Up, up and away
This is my favorite time of year, here, when the nights are cool enough to require a sweatshirt and socks and the days are warm enough to allow for a dip in the pool. Acorns are starting to litter the driveway. The elderberries are a dark purple. The leaves in the woods are starting to droop just a little as they think about fall.
This morning I was awakened by the sound of a gas jet outside my window. Hot air balloons are another seasonal feature. In spring and fall they come often early in the morning and at sunset. There is a balloon launch in the next town. I ran to the window to see a rainbow striped balloon floating lazily over the treetops on a perfect, crisp and sunny morning.
There will be no balloons in Brooklyn, but there will be sunny mornings. We will put on our sweatshirts, and climb the stairs to the roof where we’ll sit with our coffee and watch the birds soaring across the view of the Manhattan skyline, our own ticket to some open sky.
Less than two weeks until we’re gone. I’ve hired the movers and filed the change of address form. There’s no turning back now.