Photo courtesy: Google Images
I dreamt about hot air balloons. I dreamt that I was in one, and there were a few other people in their own balloons around me. Up so high in the sky and the earth below was resplendent. Early morning hours, just after sunrise, it was serene, almost surreal and yet so very beautiful. So while we’re all floating along in our balloons the baskets beneath our feet suddenly went and somehow were replaced by a harnesses wrapped around our waists and legs. At first I found this amusing, yet at the same time, frightening because the realisation that change could happen at a moments notice meant that we could all potentially fall to the ground.
Irrespective of my dream, I think that hot air balloons are a beautiful sight to witness. Often times, if I’m up early enough and on my way to work, I spot a few hot air balloons floating around in our skies and I am always delighted to see them. There is something so magical about hot air balloons, magical in my mind. I love the colours, the sense of tranquillity they project to me, and the way they slowly move across the sky is very dream like.
Yes indeed, they are very pretty.