This is the weekend of the Adirondack Hot-Air Balloon Festival – one of the biggest in the world – and I know I won’t be able to go and see it (too far away, for our busy weekend ahead). Instead I picture it: a skyful of balloonists each one a cartoon thought-bubble set alight to bubble heavenwards, crowding the sky as if emanating from a child’s illustrated Earth, one that we own again just for a moment gazing upwards at an aether crammed with giant Easter eggs. Can this really be the same planet tearing itself apart with wars and weaponry? On my way to the Red Hook diner – a pleasantly converted converted pizzeria – to meet my pal Trey, I stepped out to take a photo of a lake in Zena that has a resident heron often on the watch for prey, and was surprised by the sound of winter – already? Geese overhead (you can just make out the V-formation in the photo), honking ominously.
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