There's something special about hot air balloons; the freedom and tranquility and peacefulness of their journey.
I've never been on a flight because, unfortunately, to achieve this perfect peace you need to go through the take off and then survive the landing.
Now I write this it occurs to me that that's a lot like life! Bumpy either end but well worth the effort in the middle. Perhaps I should consider a trip.
As Rachel and I watched the balloon coming closer towards us I was struck by how little of our lives allows us to just 'be' and think and see. Riding in the balloon is all about just 'being' and watching it we were partaking as well.
It came so close to the house that we could see the people in the basket and hear the roar of the burner. It was magical; enchanting. We were caught up in the wonder of it.
And then it past over, it had drifted with the wind. But Rachel couldn't let it go, she ran to her room to see it there
She demanded we go out the front of the house to see it. She was chasing something, perhaps the calm that the balloon transmitted. I know I was sad to see it go.
After school Rachel's teacher told me how all the kids who'd seen the balloon were bursting with tales all day.
Was it the balloon?
The physics of floating beneath a bag of gas?
The gentle wonder?
The following of the wind and natural forces?
Or The Feeling of peace and stillness that it emanates?
I don't know; but that hot air balloon touched us and reminded me that stillness is enriching and filling in our busy world. Something I will be reflecting on this week.
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