Letting go: A photoblog

The neighbors gave the little girl a heart-shaped balloon for Valentine’s Day.   The next morning, she decided to make a wish.  Which means–for some odd reason–in our neighborhood, letting the balloon go.

The little boy who has been chasing the balloon around the house, noticed something in the sky.

“Oh no!  Mama, the balloon!”

“It’s up there!”, he yelled.  He jumped up and down to reach it.  “I get it!”  He tried, but his legs were too short, his arms not quite long enough.

The balloon was caught in the thermals and floated over the City of Angels.  It’s barely visible.

“It’s gone! It’s gone, Mama!”, cried the little boy, as he looks at the dwindling heart shape in the sky.

But the dirt is still here.


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