Balloon Fiesta 2010

Pretty sure I've been to at least 20 balloon fiestas in my life and every year I love it more than the last. From the time we were little kids and Nanny and Papa would come stay at our house and all the girl cousins (5 of us) would camp out on pallets in the living room and our parents would bundle us up for the cold. We would wake up hours before the sun rose, it was almost as exciting as Christmas morning, and make our way through the long line of traffic so we could get to the field before the Dawn Patrol balloon went up. Once on the field we would quickly procure breakfast burritos with loads of green chile and steaming hot styrofoam cups filled with hot chocolate. Once we had our fill and the sun rose over the mountains, the balloons began to rise into the air. A million colors, floating into the sky, making the invisible Albuquerque box visible. The excitement of walking balloon to balloon, feeling the temporary warmth of the fire that heats the air inside the balloon, joining in the cheers as each balloon rises from the ground.

These are sights and sounds that have come to signify home for me. At this point in my life, home is an abstract term. But each year I return to ABQ in the fall and smell the roasting green chiles and feel the chill in the air as a promise of winter, and I am home. The best part is being home with my family. How precious these times have become. What were once no big deals have become jewels to hold onto. These people have helped shape who I am and what I hold dear. I am so blessed to be a part of a family that genuinely loves to be with each other. As a self professed memory-aholic, the camera comes in super handy when capturing these small pieces of time.