Remember when you were a kid and you got a ballon, a helium balloon. It was so exciting, you were going to love that balloon forever. Maybe you were warned that you should tie the balloon around your wrist. But what's the fun of that? That's what babies do and anyway you loved that balloon, you weren't going to ever let go of that balloon.
But then a momentary distraction, a gust of wind, and the balloon was gone. At first you couldn't quite believe that the balloon had escaped from your grasp. It rose up so tantalisingly slowly just barely out of reach. By the time you could get the attention of your parents it was out of their reach, too. You stood and watched as it continued to rise. And then a current caught your balloon, your now ex-balloon, and it rushed skyward and away. Maybe you shed a little tear as the balloon shrank to a spot against the clouds and then was no more to be seen.
You knew from previous balloons that eventually the helium would dissipate and the ballon would fall to earth again, a little latex Icarus. Maybe you wondered where it would come down, who would find it and if they would think about you, the little kid who lost a balloon.
Today I found a downed helium balloon in my garden. Ha ha kid, you shoulda held on tighter.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Up and away
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4 comments:
Awww, poor balloon. I always preferred to think that they drifted into space, headed for some balloon paradise somewhere.
Yea, I know it couldn't possibly happen, but that is better than thinking of it popping.
Even worse were the bets my parents would make on how long the balloon would last in my tiny fingers.
Ok, Vol, I freely admit that you were a more advanced kid than I, but c'mon -- a latex Icarus? Maybe those whuppins did motivate you. Regardless, your vindictive thoughts toward the former owner of said balloon tickled me.
Absolutely. Icarus. There was a Brueghels (elder or younger, can't remember) painting of the fall of Icarus that fascinated me. I'm very arty.
It''s quite impressive.
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