When I was a child, my parents took me to the Balluminaria Festival in Mt. Adams. I remember walking amongst the hot air balloons, gazing up at them, aghast at their sheer enormity and the towering plumes of fire inflating them. It was one of the few times as a kid that I was simply content to just look. And look. And look some more.
And this, essentially, is the entire point of the Balluminaria Festival. The hot air balloons don’t take off (hello, catastrophe); you can’t climb in them; there’s no rock concert or anything. Just hot cocoa, balloons, and a crowd of bundled-up enthusiasts with their cameras. But the simplicity of the festival is also its beauty: in our modern world, it seems like we’re constantly bombarded with loudness–it’s nice to enjoy something magical simply because its myriad colors glow softly in the crisp twilight, illuminating the pond and the cold November air. (Wow, look at me bein’ all poetic!)
Anyway, I enjoy these hot air balloons, and I hope you do, too.