Wordless Wednesday

Up, Up and Away

The excitement mounted as the balloon rose; the only sound the whoosh of the burner as the pilot fired flame into the envelope, heating the air. We floated silently, at the mercy of the winds, marveling at the world from above the trees. Off in the distance, other balloons hung in the air seemingly motionless. There were 4 people in our basket, we each stood in our own corner, watching the countryside flow beneath us. The pilot descended once, brushing the treetops with the bottom of the basket before firing the burner again. People on the ground ran out of their houses to wave as we floated by. We shouted and waved in return. The trip lasted over an hour. It was a birthday gift I will never forget.


I watched and clapped with the other onlookers as the balloons launched, back lit against a dying day at the NJ Festival of Ballooning. But my mind’s eye was filled with my own experience years and years ago.


The festival was fun, with the typical food and rides. There were mimes performing on high flexible pedestals, trampoline gymnasts, and throngs of people. The draw was the balloons. The morning launch of over 120 balloons was, from what I heard, spectacular. The evening launch that we saw, much less so. Because of high winds the launch was delayed until after 7pm, then only a few balloons rose with their paying customers.

If you go to a balloon festival I encourage you to get up at the crack of dawn to see the morning launch. Better yet, go up in one.

First Harvest

Good thing I am only growing for one.

Wordless Wednesday

Muir Woods

I tiptoed into the hushed fog-shrouded woods, peering up at the massive giants around me. The wooden walkway angled off in the distance. Alone with the trees, the faint twitter of birds high in the canopy and the trickle of the small creek that runs alongside the path; like my first visit to St. Peter's in Rome, I wanted to fall down and worship in the cathedral. I walked softly; breathing in the cool damp April air. I spotted movement along a fallen trunk, a liquid drop of sunshine with a tiny black beret flitted amidst the leaves. It was my first look at a Wilson's Warbler. I walked deeper into the woods marveling at the trees, reading the posted signs, tenderly touching the shaggy gnarled bark, Breathing in the piney smell. It was a day I will never forget.

I have been back to Muir Woods many times alone and with family and friends. I have been there in different seasons, but the first time was the most magical. It is not far over the Golden Gate bridge. Next time you are in San Francisco, take some time to drive up. it is so worth it.

Napa Valley wine tasting

I thought it would make the most sense to stay in the town of Napa if we were going to be in Napa Valley, I have since changed my mind. Napa is at the southernmost end of the valley but the heart and pulse, not to mention the best shopping, is in St. Helena further north. Traveling the almost 60-mile elongated circle up the Silverado Trail and down Route 29 stopping at wineries was a lot of fun. There are over a hundred wineries from which to choose. Many of them have open tasting rooms and tours while in others you have to make an appointment. Not being in town for very long, we opted for open tasting. We stopped at Grgrich Hills ($10 for a flight if 4), where I remembered them making something I really liked years and years ago. But I didn’t like anything there. Huh. We then stopped to try a flight of bubbly at Domaine Chandon. They have the most incredible property. The flight was $16. for 4 different sparkling wines. They also serve food on site. We didn’t eat there, but judging from the menu and other’s people’s plates it looked good. We then drove over to Black Stallion, a newish winery on Silverado Trail with a 2 for 1 tasting card that the hotel gave us. We both really liked the Sauvignon Blanc so much that we bought a bottle.

Driving back to the hotel laughing merrily, we spied another winery called Luna and spontaneously pulled in. Walking up to the tasting room, we noticed that they were closed. Shrugging, we got back in the car; it was getting late after all. As we started to pull out of the drive, a handsome man jogged across their tiled patio with a black wine bag. Concerned that we had missed the tasting he handed us a bottle of cold wine through the dusty car window. We thanked him profusely, promising to return the next day. Peeking in the bag, we saw it was a beautifully chilled bottle of Pinot Grigio. We decided to have the Luna with olives, portobello mushrooms and roasted peppers, and cheese and crackers for dinner. It was delish. If you get to Napa you have to totally go there.

Wordless Wednesday