H is for Hot Air Balloon

I’ve noticed the older I get the more fear I collect. When I was younger, jumping off a cliff into water was fun. Now it sounds terrifying. I remember my brother and I used to freak my mom out by standing too close to the railing of hotel room balconies.  She would tell us to step back, her knees were shaking. I laughed then. I get it now.

So many of the things I used to want to do when I was younger like skydiving, bungee jumping, or more cliff diving, I now have no desire to do.  Fear has taken over.  But one thing I still want to do, and I believe, right now, I am not too afraid to do, is take a hot air balloon ride. I’m not sure why I haven’t developed a fear of being in a wicker basket under a giant balloon filled with hot air from burning hot flames yet, but I haven’t.

I imagine this being some romantic date with a picnic breakfast and mimosas. We launch super early to catch the sunrise from high above the ground in the basket of the balloon. We sip mimosas as we take in the scenery around us.

One day!