by Lori Hearon (Autumn~Burn~Death)
Traffic was slow but steady on I-40 in Albuquerque this cool Autumn morning. Ena looked down at the clock on the dash of her aging Jeep Wrangler. The clock glowed back in the darkness; 3:32am. If the traffic didn't thicken, she would arrive at the park just as planned. Ena usually ran late wherever she went, with only the best of intentions to make her appointment on time. She questioned with skepticism the individual that was early to an appointment. Her assumption remained that the person simply must have too much time on their hands. Today however, was her favorite day of the year, the International Balloon Fiesta and she would be on time.
Turning onto I-25 heading towards Alameda exit, fueled by her quad shot Americano and the anticipation of her day . The darkness of early morning was penetrated by vehicle lights, all traveling to the same destination. Taking her exit and maneuvering her way through the sea of trucks hauling their hot air balloons and gear, she made it to the crew parking at 4:02 am.
The site was so active you would hardly know it was the wee hours of the morning. She had to walk a quarter of mile to the Pilot Briefing tower, so she needed to hustle. Ena opened her door and swung a long lean jean covered leg out from her seat and her scuffed cowboy boot hit the gravel ground. She reached for her backpack on the passenger seat and planted both boots on the ground. Slinging the pack over her back she breathed in the crisp air and a gentle calm fell over her adrenaline wired body as she watched the launch sites alive with activity. She thought she felt her tear ducts wanting to participate, as she reached in the back of her vehicle for a flannel shirt to put over her jersey t-shirt. This was Ena’s religious experience, her Meca, the place she found her strength. As she quickly made her way to the tower she touched the charm around her neck and let her fingers run over the engraving.
She scanned the lots for a sign of her son and crew but didn't see a trace. They would be here no matter what he had said to her on the phone last night. It was his last ditch effort to dissuade her to not fly the balloon. He had spoke of a horrible set of two numbers, 58, that she choose to never acknowledge, even though her drivers license displayed the truth. It was one thing to bring up her age but the nerve of him to bring in her precious granddaughter, Lily. He had just spoken the words, “think about Lily, will you, I can pilot and you will still be apart of everything... I mean Mom, really what if something was to happen?,” when she hung up on him. Flying that balloon is what has kept her alive for the last fourteen years, he should know better than to try to take that away from her. He was so worrisome these days; he got his practicality from his father because she certainly didn't deal with tomorrow until it came.
After the briefing, an hour later, the sight was even more crowded with people and the excitement heightened. Arriving at the lot where her balloon would lift off, she found her son and his crew. They had everything prepared for lift off. The wicker basket had been taken off the back of the pick-up and the vibrant colored envelope was set for flight. She looked over at her son in his worn blue jean shirt as his tousled dirty blonde hair waved in the wind and she gave him a wink. “I knew you would get me ready for lift off,” Ena said. He smiled and shook his head as he finished checking the propane tanks in the basket.
Radd, the Jamaican Zebra, in his referee shirt and pants sporting dreadlocks, walked over to Ena and said, “A fine day for flight mon,” with a slap on the back. Zebra’s are what the balloon festival calls air traffic control. They handle crowd control along with directing and insuring the pilots have a safe passage and a safe landing. Radd briefed Ena on what hand signals to look for during the launch sequence. They also discussed wind conditions for the day.
It was 5:40 am and Ena stepped into the basket for lift off in the Dawn Patrol Show. Gavin, Ena’s son walked up to the basket and put a loving touch on her head. They both looked into each others eyes and Gavin said, “Tell him I said hello.”
Ena starts up the burner, the propane flows out in liquid form and is ignited. The flame burns and heats up the metal in the tubing. The propane turns from a liquid to a gas and a powerful flame lights up the nylon envelope. Ena’s heart beats in anticipation.
Radd blew his whistle and gave a thumbs up signal letting Ena know the skyway was clear for take off. Gavin released the balloon and it began to rise. Sprinkled all across the park the kaleidoscopic of balloons taking off filled the air.
Ena felt the wind in her hair and the humid early morning dew on her face as she rose towards the sun rise. She loved to watch the flame burn. There was something about that flame that seemed to purify all those things of un-importance that can plague your soul.
The balloon had risen to 1,200 feet quickly. She felt complete peace and a stillness as she floated. She felt a warm presence around her and knew, just like clockwork, he was there. “You never miss our appointment, do you James?,” Ena horsley said, as tears rolled down her cheeks and the warmth seemed to tighten around her. She reached down and fingered her necklace that read, “the heart remembers.”
The touch took her back to the day when she had her first hot air balloon ride. Her husband had been diagnosed with terminal cancer and they spent his last year marking of things from his “bucket list.” For all the years she had known James, whenever she had a bad day or felt fearful, he would tell her to close her eyes and pretend she was in a faraway land flying in a hot air balloon. He had ridden in a balloon in his childhood and found it to be one of the most enchanting and tranquil experiences he had ever had. Ena had never flown in a balloon but had dreamed of it for years. It had been a fall day much like today, as they flew over the New Mexico mountains, James held Ena in his arms and said.” I will never leave you. I will forever be with you in spirit. When you need me, you will find me up here.” He then placed the necklace around her slender neck.
Following his death she set out to become a balloon pilot. After taking hours of instruction and passing her FFA written test and solo flight, two years later, Ena was issued her pilot license by the Federal Aviation Administration. She then purchased her own hot air balloon and began the hobby of flying. Enda knew she could have never coped with James' death without something to keep them connected in spirit. Whenever Ena felt she no longer had the strength to continue, she would fly to meet him. She didn't have to pretend to fly, she really flew.
As she floated over emerald green tree tops and river beds she talked with James. She updated him on his granddaughter, Lily and her latest accomplishments and she talked about Einstein her dog that never lets her sleep alone. All the while, James was there and she could feel herself becoming whole again. The magic of the winds of flight had faithfully touched her soul again.
Traffic was slow but steady on I-40 in Albuquerque this cool Autumn morning. Ena looked down at the clock on the dash of her aging Jeep Wrangler. The clock glowed back in the darkness; 3:32am. If the traffic didn't thicken, she would arrive at the park just as planned. Ena usually ran late wherever she went, with only the best of intentions to make her appointment on time. She questioned with skepticism the individual that was early to an appointment. Her assumption remained that the person simply must have too much time on their hands. Today however, was her favorite day of the year, the International Balloon Fiesta and she would be on time.
Turning onto I-25 heading towards Alameda exit, fueled by her quad shot Americano and the anticipation of her day . The darkness of early morning was penetrated by vehicle lights, all traveling to the same destination. Taking her exit and maneuvering her way through the sea of trucks hauling their hot air balloons and gear, she made it to the crew parking at 4:02 am.
The site was so active you would hardly know it was the wee hours of the morning. She had to walk a quarter of mile to the Pilot Briefing tower, so she needed to hustle. Ena opened her door and swung a long lean jean covered leg out from her seat and her scuffed cowboy boot hit the gravel ground. She reached for her backpack on the passenger seat and planted both boots on the ground. Slinging the pack over her back she breathed in the crisp air and a gentle calm fell over her adrenaline wired body as she watched the launch sites alive with activity. She thought she felt her tear ducts wanting to participate, as she reached in the back of her vehicle for a flannel shirt to put over her jersey t-shirt. This was Ena’s religious experience, her Meca, the place she found her strength. As she quickly made her way to the tower she touched the charm around her neck and let her fingers run over the engraving.
She scanned the lots for a sign of her son and crew but didn't see a trace. They would be here no matter what he had said to her on the phone last night. It was his last ditch effort to dissuade her to not fly the balloon. He had spoke of a horrible set of two numbers, 58, that she choose to never acknowledge, even though her drivers license displayed the truth. It was one thing to bring up her age but the nerve of him to bring in her precious granddaughter, Lily. He had just spoken the words, “think about Lily, will you, I can pilot and you will still be apart of everything... I mean Mom, really what if something was to happen?,” when she hung up on him. Flying that balloon is what has kept her alive for the last fourteen years, he should know better than to try to take that away from her. He was so worrisome these days; he got his practicality from his father because she certainly didn't deal with tomorrow until it came.
After the briefing, an hour later, the sight was even more crowded with people and the excitement heightened. Arriving at the lot where her balloon would lift off, she found her son and his crew. They had everything prepared for lift off. The wicker basket had been taken off the back of the pick-up and the vibrant colored envelope was set for flight. She looked over at her son in his worn blue jean shirt as his tousled dirty blonde hair waved in the wind and she gave him a wink. “I knew you would get me ready for lift off,” Ena said. He smiled and shook his head as he finished checking the propane tanks in the basket.
Radd, the Jamaican Zebra, in his referee shirt and pants sporting dreadlocks, walked over to Ena and said, “A fine day for flight mon,” with a slap on the back. Zebra’s are what the balloon festival calls air traffic control. They handle crowd control along with directing and insuring the pilots have a safe passage and a safe landing. Radd briefed Ena on what hand signals to look for during the launch sequence. They also discussed wind conditions for the day.
It was 5:40 am and Ena stepped into the basket for lift off in the Dawn Patrol Show. Gavin, Ena’s son walked up to the basket and put a loving touch on her head. They both looked into each others eyes and Gavin said, “Tell him I said hello.”
Ena starts up the burner, the propane flows out in liquid form and is ignited. The flame burns and heats up the metal in the tubing. The propane turns from a liquid to a gas and a powerful flame lights up the nylon envelope. Ena’s heart beats in anticipation.
Radd blew his whistle and gave a thumbs up signal letting Ena know the skyway was clear for take off. Gavin released the balloon and it began to rise. Sprinkled all across the park the kaleidoscopic of balloons taking off filled the air.
Ena felt the wind in her hair and the humid early morning dew on her face as she rose towards the sun rise. She loved to watch the flame burn. There was something about that flame that seemed to purify all those things of un-importance that can plague your soul.
The balloon had risen to 1,200 feet quickly. She felt complete peace and a stillness as she floated. She felt a warm presence around her and knew, just like clockwork, he was there. “You never miss our appointment, do you James?,” Ena horsley said, as tears rolled down her cheeks and the warmth seemed to tighten around her. She reached down and fingered her necklace that read, “the heart remembers.”
The touch took her back to the day when she had her first hot air balloon ride. Her husband had been diagnosed with terminal cancer and they spent his last year marking of things from his “bucket list.” For all the years she had known James, whenever she had a bad day or felt fearful, he would tell her to close her eyes and pretend she was in a faraway land flying in a hot air balloon. He had ridden in a balloon in his childhood and found it to be one of the most enchanting and tranquil experiences he had ever had. Ena had never flown in a balloon but had dreamed of it for years. It had been a fall day much like today, as they flew over the New Mexico mountains, James held Ena in his arms and said.” I will never leave you. I will forever be with you in spirit. When you need me, you will find me up here.” He then placed the necklace around her slender neck.
Following his death she set out to become a balloon pilot. After taking hours of instruction and passing her FFA written test and solo flight, two years later, Ena was issued her pilot license by the Federal Aviation Administration. She then purchased her own hot air balloon and began the hobby of flying. Enda knew she could have never coped with James' death without something to keep them connected in spirit. Whenever Ena felt she no longer had the strength to continue, she would fly to meet him. She didn't have to pretend to fly, she really flew.
As she floated over emerald green tree tops and river beds she talked with James. She updated him on his granddaughter, Lily and her latest accomplishments and she talked about Einstein her dog that never lets her sleep alone. All the while, James was there and she could feel herself becoming whole again. The magic of the winds of flight had faithfully touched her soul again.