I may have mentioned before that I frequently drive my husband 11kms to the railway station in the wee small hours. Lately, I have been feeling lyrical about the sky and how it looks on these crisp Autumn-feeling mornings. Well, yesterday was one of those deep blue, apricot edged skies. It was cold (or what my mother would have called ‘fresh’) as we set out.
When we got to the main road, I was surprised for a moment to see hundreds of cars headed for Carterton…there was even a slow crawl around the roundabout at the edge of town because of the traffic. And then I remembered, the annual Hot Air Balloon Festival was have its opening Ascension in Carrington Park.
“Damn,” I said to Michael, “I should have brought the camera or at least my cellphone.” But I hadn’t, so I prepared myself to live totally in the moment and watch the balloons without recording…until I’d dropped him off. A sudden brainwave hit me, I could have a go to get home, pick my camera up and come back lickety split, as someone like Brer Rabbit might have said.
And so I did. What a glorious start to the day.. . to see these sleeping giants transform into their various shapes and sizes and then take off into that wide blue yonder and head for the mountains. Lucky for me I met Megan and her two children Bennie and Sarah, so I had the benefit of some of that special wonder children bring to such an occasion as well.
To top it all off I fell into conversation about our respective bikes (more about this in a later post) with a lively redhead of my own age as I walked back to my car. Love what such occasions do to bring us together as we build our community stories.
Is it any wonder I climbed into the car singing… O My. What a Morning…O My. What A Morning…?