Monday, 18 December 2017

Where Lost Balloons Go

Months ago I began to photograph lost balloons.

I didn't really know why.

They don't seem very photogenic.

But each one carries a story we shall never fully know.

Once they were part of somebody's plan for jollity.
But they slipped from captivity and escaped into the wild blue yonder.
Only to discover that the waiting world was hostile.

Although maybe the balloons that I come across are a biased sample - the ones that didn't get away.
Perhaps others are bobbing happily together high in the ether.
I'd like to think so.

However, on Saturday I spotted somebody in Huntingdon town centre.  As soon as I saw him, I knew that he was the missing part of the story.

At last, right in front of my eyes was the individual who looked as if he had lost all those balloons.
A sad clown laid low by the practice of balloon art.

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