After spending many sunrises for years and years all over the globe in hot air balloons and always feeling as if I were in another world, I would have to say:
Lauriate … I don’t usually stop long enough to think about "this" … but as you rise high in the sky, standing in a wicker basket, feeling no motion, no wind, no sound — you find yourself in another world high above, looking at the beauty below, and yet no one can get to you. You are there with your own thoughts and this surge of joy in your heart, so unlike our worldly joy. It does seem a glimpse of heaven . . . a similar feeling I am almost stunned with as I explore the most remote places on earth. There are no worries, no concerns, for you are alone and experiencing the joys of the moment that often I am the only one who sees. In the busy world of everyday we live in, the contrast is hard to explain — but exhilarating. to see it all, to experience the animals and sights of pure untouched nature —- well, to me, it is living life to the very fullest. I truly think that is why I run on such a "high". And Luariate, I have had more friends - friends that thought they never would - go up in hot air balloons and never stop talking about it. Too bad you don’t live closer — the sky would be the limit I assure you!
My definition [of a philosopher] is of a man up in a balloon, with his
family and friends holding the ropes which confine him to earth and
trying to haul him down. ~Louisa May Alcott, in Life, Letters, and Journals, ed. E.D. Cheney, 1889
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After spending many sunrises for years and years all over the globe in hot air balloons and always feeling as if I were in another world, I would have to say:
"Heaven. I’m in heaven …!" Joan
Joan - “heaven” - a perfect Joan Larsen caption for this beautiful scene.
But I wouldn’t fly in a balloon.
I wouldn’t smile at a crocodile.
And, I wouldn’t stare at a polar bear, either.
My definition [of a philosopher] is of a man up in a balloon, with his family and friends holding the ropes which confine him to earth and trying to haul him down. ~Louisa May Alcott, in Life, Letters, and Journals, ed. E.D. Cheney, 1889
Honey, look! It’s your thighs!