Thirty years ago when we were still living in Blackburn Hamlet we had grown accustomed to suddenly hearing a sound of deep breathing, in-and-out, as though a giant was just passing through the Hamlet, striding impossibly long steps, his head well above the roofs of the houses, breathing heavily as he proceeded. Only, of course, it wasn't a giant. This sound informed us of the aerial passage of a hot-air balloon. We would rush to a window, then scramble to get out-of-doors to watch as the balloon with its hissing flares and its basket carrying waving people within, majestically made its way over the houses and onto nearby fields.

It was a delightful bit of excitement, to witness these events; colourful objects that looked so very exotic, making their passage across the sky, so close to the roofs of houses, it seemed we could almost leap up and touch them. They were indeed close, if on occasion we could make out such details as smiles on the faces of those gliding along with the balloons, themselves obviously delighted to be able to do so.

To be able to finance their operations, hot-air balloon fanciers took to selling their passions as novel new billboards floating above curious and enthusiastic potential purchasers or subscribers, and the balloons changed from merely colourful to full advertising displays. Even their shapes might sometimes resemble a product they were advertising, but in this instance it was likely a manufacturer itself that had such a balloon designed and produced for its advertising campaigning. They certainly were novelties. Which didn't quite serve to destroy their capacity to enchant.

Over in Gatineau, just across the Ottawa River in Quebec, an annual balloon festival was established, popular and well-attended in the fall, when a proliferation of balloons began to crowd the skies. It attracted international balloonists, so little wonder it created non-stop traffic in the sky. It's likely still in operation, but as a muted affair, their popularity having waned, particularly in the track of a lethal accident one year when the festival organizer's teen-age daughter died when she was engulfed in flames as the balloon and basket she was in caught fire.

We've been enjoying a real spate of later-summer hot temperatures and uninterrupted clear skies. Yesterday was one of those lovely days. Last evening, just as dusk began to fall, my husband, who had been upstairs, had heard that giveaway sound, went to a window looking out the front of the house and saw a balloon hovering close overhead, making its way across the street, and called down to me to grab my camera and rush outside. He's a far quicker study than me.

Earlier in the afternoon I'd been in the dining room, busy with setting up a new computer temporarily placed on the dining room table. I thought I'd heard heavy breathing, and wondered whether some sound mechanism within the computer was capturing my breathing, amplifying it and playing it back to me. It hadn't even occurred to me that a hot air balloon might be overhead, we hadn't seen them in years....