Ordinary day, driving the kid to school and we're late. I'm rushing, pushing, passing cars, edging ahead of traffic. Seconds tick and I feel the day's urgency, an invisible hand on the small of my back, nudging me ever forward. Conversation is short and clipped, my focus on the lights ahead pulls my son's gaze into the race, his urgings -come on car, come on- only adds to my anxiety. Leaning back in his seat, his relaxed angle allows him to see what I in my urgency would have otherwise missed...
Ballooners taking advantage of the cool morning air and blue skies, soaring just overhead, so close that it seems that we might be able to hitch a ride if we were able to catch up. My path briefly follows theirs and I am torn, longing to shed the mornings duties and follow the balloon, wind, blue skies and whim or turn the car and carry on with duty and responsibility. I pause, considering...
But the balloon takes a turn that has him gliding over treetops and rooftops, past stream and ravine, on a path where my car could not follow, too swift for my feet to pursue...
I was left in it's wake with the hope that I too would have days to chase the skies and sail off into the blue.
