| Dogs distrust hot air balloons. I gathered this tidbit as | | | | in their nest. We waved reassurance to cows whose |
| my husband and I floated over the mountains in a | | | | moos voiced concern at our strange presence |
| wicker gondola, listening to the barking chorus that | | | | overhead and we called "good morning" to the folk |
| followed us even 3,000 feet into the air. The burner | | | | who blessed us with their waves. |
| evokes canine protest -- but we had no problems, as | | | | |
| we drifted with the currents and contemplated the | | | | "Are those sheep?" my husband wondered, pointing |
| silent fog in its morning retreat over the hills. | | | | to toy animals far below. "No," said our pilot placidly. |
| | | | "Cows." They turned out to be horses, but who cared. |
| We learned that a mere a six foot rise in altitude can | | | | For the duration of our flight, nothing mattered, and that |
| change your direction, if your vehicle is a hot air balloon. | | | | was perhaps the biggest lesson of the morning. Letting |
| We learned that the tops of trees look a lot different | | | | go of anxiety. Letting go of fear. Letting go of |
| from above, and birds look surprised if you greet them | | | | expectations. |