A Quechee Encounter.

What’s that in the air, in the distance?


Is it a balloon?




Yes, it is.

The light is fading.

I pull off the highway to watch.




It’s getting near dark.

They are coming down fast.



I hope they’re OK, and can find a place to land.

They see me watching them, and wave…

I wave back.



The balloon comes low enough that I fear for their safety.



But they fire up the burners, and start to rise up.


Away they go, quietly.

They’ll clear the ridge they’re approaching.

I hope there’s a good big field in their line of flight.

And that they’ll find it before dark.

I get back in my truck.

And move along.



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