A dear friend and I were drinking wine in my garden Sunday afternoon when we heard what sounded to her like Tyrannosaurus Rex snorting above us. I knew without looking what it was. Hot air balloons are not uncommon where I live, and within seconds three of them were hovering right over our house.
One was so close, the kids playing in the cul-de-sac could shout questions at the people in the basket. The people in the basket told the kids they’d be landing in a park several yards from us.
A crowd ran and biked in the balloon’s trail, picking up more people the closer it got to the park. People who saw the balloon landing from their cars pulled over to join us.
Once the balloon had touched down and the passengers disembarked, the pilot allowed all the neighborhood kids (including ours) to run over and touch the deflating balloon. I wasn’t the only one snapping photos. It was a lucky-to-be-here moment, and those you want to save.