The Weather Balloon

A hissing sound filled our ears as helium gas poured from the rapidly emptying tank into the last of our balloons, inflating the cloudy, translucent vessel to the size of a car tire. I shivered as my fingers, numb from the cold, attempted to tie an intricate knot, trapping the inert gas inside the capsule that would carry our weather balloon to the stars. When I finished, I sat back, admiring our creation.

Atop a light, square-shaped wooden frame sat our simple cluster of instruments: A thermometer, a barometer, and an altimeter. The frame featured struts which weaved throughout the structure like a spider web. The instruments were glued in place, but a shiny, white ribbon, which glittered under the intermittent sunlight, held the panel securely to the frame. The same ribbon snaked inwards from the four corners, wrapping around the diagonal supports that pointed towards the central cluster, before finally terminating below, where the ribbons were tied together in a loop. Roped around the loop was the end of a fishing line, so thin that we could only perceive it when it fluttered in the breeze, illuminated by the afternoon sun in a blinding flash of light that lasted only a fraction of a second. The line zigzagged across the wilted grass and half melted snow that covered the field in which we stood, finally climbing the rod of the fishing pole that I held in my hand and wrapping its way around the reel, as if it were hugging a dear friend. The frame bowed inwards and upwards as three balloons pulled at each corner, tugging at the fabric of our creation, yearning to be released, to be sucked upwards by the gravity of the infinite sky.

She smiled giddily as the balloons pulled at her arm, excited as I was to watch our invention ascend into the clouds. I looked up for a moment and watched as the white giants slipped by, high, high above us, their surfaces like smooth fields of cotton candy snow that alternated harmoniously with the clarity and peacefulness of the azure sky.

"Ready?" I asked. She nodded. I held out the pole to her. "The honor is yours." She laughed with child-like excitement and took the pole from me, her eyes bright. We were going sky fishing.

I held the frame in my hand as it strained against my frosty grip. The wind blustered, encircling me as my hair whisked around my face, covering my eyes and tickling my nose. She stood a few feet from me, the pole in her hands, her hair fanned around her head like a halo, like a corona as the sun light scattered on the fine strands.

"Three, two, one, go!" She yelled as I released our weather balloon, relenting to the inevitability of lift, giving in to the pull of the sky. The line whipped around the reel as the balloons accelerated upwards, faster and faster, leaving us far behind. We stood in wonder as the machine that we had built, the contraption that our small, dirt-stained, earth-bound hands had once touched, spiraled upwards with the wind towards the clouds that we were never destined to caress.

And for a blissful moment, we felt a rush of elation. I closed my eyes, breathing in deeply, taking in the sound of the wind howling past my ears, inhaling the scent of leaf mold and freshly melted snow mingling with the dirt and grass, feeling the cold that drilled into my bones, somehow simultaneously jagged and bracing in its frosty embrace.

And then the tether snapped.

I gave a shout of surprise as the line suddenly went slack, no longer pulled upwards by the force of the helium-filled balloons. We stared upwards helplessly as our contrivance flew further and further out of our reach.

For a moment, the wind paused, and suddenly there was silence. And in that moment, the sky enveloped our beings. I felt as if I was being lifted upwards towards the heavens, sucked into the chaotic serenity of the sky. Light reflected off the surface of the balloons high above, showering us in a rainbow of colors, winking at us playfully as they soared steadily higher. The sun passed behind a cloud, and an aureole filled our vision as sunbeams, dispersed by the dense water vapor, graced us with the most beautiful continuum of color, an infinite gradient of jades and sapphires and rubies and ambers, at the center of which sat our tiny weather balloon. And then, like an elderly father taking his last breath, our airship flitted behind a cloud, winking at us one last time as if to say goodbye, before disappearing into the vast sea above.

The wind picked up once again, jarring us from our stupor, cutting into our ears and chilling our noses, dragging us back down to earth as our blimp continued its journey to a place where we could not follow. She looked over at me, her face rosy red from the cold, tears in her eyes.

"So many hours of work..." She trailed off.

"But so much more beautiful than I could have ever imagined."