Petrus Spronk

Dear Captain Balloon up in the sky,

For many years now you have taken people up into cloud land, high up in the sky. For many years also you have provided much pleasure for them when your balloon took them up very high, and brought them safely back to earth again.

I have seen you gently floating on the updraught or riding the breeze for a decent run when the breeze was at your back. The breeze which takes a basketful of excited people for the first time, or for many a repeat. Because it is so very addictive – to enter the deep blue sky without the restrictions of any road ways or signs of where to go and not to go.

You push off from the earth and observe the landscape diminish in size below you until it is no larger than a child’s drawing. You have entered the big blue and after the initial breathtaking moment, many a time you get a close-up look at eagles – the drawing of their feathers beautiful intricate designs. Those eagles who have come to investigate what the depth of the sky ocean has brought up this time. You sense the lightness of letting go from connection of the earth not unlike feeling smooth movement like a yacht on a still day. You are able to enjoy various views from the windowless basket.

Look down and you could be surprised when entering the path of a local eagle  wondering what is that buoyant object which neither floats nor sinks, but drifts with ease in this magic sea-space.

The delightful 3D clouds like a parade move gently by. One of the passengers tries to give one a nudge, however nothing happens. Clouds will only be moved by the breeze.

Balloon man, having taken numerous people up and down, you have in your wisdom decided to take this air light journey on your own. We grieving folk you left behind watch you getting smaller and smaller until you have disappeared into the point of your own perspective. Way off into the deep blue sky. The place where you obviously feel at home.

We, whom you left behind are happy in the knowledge that you are in your air-light summer blue balloon. High up in the comfort of the silence of a balloon drifting away, so very far away.

Rest in peace, Captain Simon.

Petrus Spronk is a local author and artist who contributes a monthly column to The Wombat Post.