Life is conspiring to prevent me from doing my thing so I dredged up something from the archives.

A few years ago, minding my own business, walking along the logging paths that cross the local forest – a balloon. Of the kind I have to inflate a couple of times a year for children’s birthdays, not the kind that has foolish tourists dangling from it. The big mysteries are: who put it there in the month of October? Just what are we supposed to gain by booking this small tree? Why is the writing on the balloon all blurry (okay, I know the answer to that one…poor photography skills)?

The mind boggles.

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