As I was pulling out of my driveway yesterday morning, I saw a big, orange hot air balloon, floating over the neighborhood, getting ready to touch down. It was beautiful.
I followed the balloon, windows rolled down, head sticking out, almost causing an accident or two in the process. But I didn’t care; I found myself grinning ear-to-ear. There’s something magical and special about hot air balloons, I suppose because the only ones I’ve ever seen are those in the movies. In a childish way, I imagined the balloon landing down near me. The balloon pilot would invite me to go around the world or go visit some imaginary place.
I followed it for about a quarter of a mile before it disappeared behind the trees. Sometimes its little things like this that makes me happy.
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