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  • catherine@allaboutwriters

A party every morning.

"Open the blinds, someone?" I call hopefully down the hallway.


Within a few minutes, a call comes back,

"It's a dinosaur! Oh my gosh, come and see this! It's a dinosaur!"


We gather at the front windows in various states of dress, the noise of coffee brewing in the kitchen. No doubt about it, that there is a dinosaur, floating up from the valley down the hill from our house. A dinosaur, along with about twenty other hot air balloons, rising up as far as we can see. We each silently count, as we ooh and aah at the sight before us. We agree on a count of about twenty balloons scattering across the morning sky, delighting in this annual sight that we know won't last.


But for now, there's a party every morning. Balloons as far as we can see, mostly round but with a few bonus novelty balloons. Today, a dinosaur, though apparently not so great at staying in the air. Looking far right, we can see the flag atop of Parliament House, to the left the once-again green hills of the arboretum. As my son commented this morning, this is a city hidden in trees, and although the odd building breaks through, our view is mostly green and leafy.


I can't help but recall the dry, brittle brown of the summer. The comfort of this big blue sky is so starkly in contrast to the smoke haze we endured for months. Then, we couldn't see the house across the street, let along the tower on the hill. And so we all pause, for a few moments longer than normal. After all, there is a party today.


All too quickly we begin the routine of breakfasting, dressing, lunch-making and bustling out into the world and the days before us. So nice to have a party to start us off.


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