Early on a Saturday morning, Chase took me for a walk. While I am quite aware that this sentence should be arranged differently, this was the truth of the matter. We had just started up the gravel driveway with Chase tugging me along as I stumbled in my appropriate three-inch sparkly sandals. I heard a “whoosh” sound. I ignored it, thinking that one of the neighbors must be playing with a new power tool. Our walk paused for a moment while Chase sniffed at something that caught his attention. I heard the “whoosh” again and then a man’s voice called out, “Hello! Good Morning!”
I froze. In a panic, I scanned the woods around me for axe murderers and psychopaths. The voice was alarmingly close and I peered through the trees trying to find the source. Another “whoosh” filled the air and a cat came careening down the driveway and disappeared under my car. As I was beginning to feel like I was the naïve star of a bad horror movie, I could hear the man laughing. I was sure he was laughing at me and I was filled with a mix of anger and dread as I still couldn’t locate the voice.
I heard another “whoosh” and noticed that Chase had frozen in place and was now staring at something above him. I followed my dog’s gaze and was amazed to see a bright yellow hot air balloon carrying a man in its basket. The man was still laughing and my dog, who was out taking me for a walk that morning had taught me a lesson: sometimes you have to look up!
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