Sunday, November 14, 2010


The little Road says, Go;
The little House says, Stay ;
And oh,it's bonny here at home;
But , I must go away.
                Josephine P. Peabody

 Walking through the bush twice a day checking for calves tunes you into every detail of those surroundings. Things in their place, and things out of the norm.
 This morning takes me along the line fence. Through the prickly ash, a very plentiful, sharp and thorny bush.

 I see a bright red balloon nestled against the rails in the midst of these nasty bushes.

 It is deflated and I wonder if it was deflated before landing or it was the result of the the thorns.
 My thoughts go to the origins of this balloon.
 "Could it be from some little child's hand, accidentally carried off by the wind, resulting in crying and going back to buy another one?"
 " Was it let go to commemorate some ceremony, or in memory of someone who was loved?"
 "How far had it traveled?"
 Maybe it was carried by the wind, dancing across the sky for miles and miles.Maybe just from next door.
 The sites this balloon could have seen  makes my mind wander. Envious of the balloon and the freedom it had. Skirting across the sky not a care in the world.
 Across land and sea, or in our case across land and pond. Daylight and starry nights. The moonbeam bouncing off  it's red shiny surface.  Free!!
 Landing gently between the thorny bushes, on the green grass, waiting to be discovered by the passing farmer looking for a calf,  dreaming of an adventure in a far off land.



  1. I loved Josephine P. Peabody's words and yours too. I always struggle with my love of being home and that insatiable urge for adventure in the wilderness that so often calls us to come and see what is over the next ridge.

  2. Mr.H yes the urge to go can be very strong.Thank you. I love reading your blog.

  3. I once took a birthday balloon like that one and attached my business card to it and let 'er fly. I got a phone call two days er from someone who lived 30 miles away telling me the thing had landed in his yard. Fun!

  4. You couldn't help but wonder where it came from could you. I'd do the same.


The mind grows by what it feeds on. J.G. Holland

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