So yeah. November the One. Inevitably not every day but maybe more often. Deal?
I have taken no pictures of fall, so seasonality will not open the month. Rhinebeck noted my distinctive absence, therefore no seasonal knitterly pictures will surface here from that. I was sad to not join in the celebration of the craft.
Pictures from the Tour de Fleece sit somewhere in my digital archives, but the memory of what each skein was sits nowhere in my wetware. I plugged my little camera into the desktop just now. I was horrified to see 256 pictures downloading. I am sure it is a camera/software mistake, but I may be wrong about that. Perhaps there will be something worth sharing after all.
We woke at the earliest part of sunrise to see AutumnAloft in Park City. The magic cannot be explained. The balloons, massive inflated things, are laid out on the high school playing field. A small window after sunrise offers somewhat predictable winds. Once the shell is extended, and the lines are untangled, the wicker basket is attached. Huge fans blow air into the envelope. Once the balloon inflates, gas powered heaters warm the air. Slowly, the balloons attain upright posture, and strain at the ropes. 
The Stars and Stripes always goes up first. We sing the Star Spangled Banner. Kids, adults, dogs all clap in glee as one after another, the ropes are released and the magic of bouyancy is true.
Each balloon gets about 800 hours of life before the stitching and the construction are less reliable. A simple one costs $60,000. Complex balloons like Mr. Owl start at $100,000 and climb upwards from there. There evidently is a circuit. The owners travel from one place to the next to fly.
This is not a ride event, so, no, I did not go up with them. I stood on the hillside on a hiking trail, and watched magic. The balloonists learn to read the landscape. The mountains and trees and buildings are like rocks in a river for a white water person. They give clues to where the wind will change, and how it will carry the balloon. No prediction is perfect - the chase trucks go follow where their balloon lands.

You can see the flames from the heater in this Stars and Stripes picture. I have trouble picking out which balloon is my favorite. Based on how many pictures I took of this one, I think it is the spiraling upwards rainbow striper in the picture below. It is the balloon on the left.
Dinners were had, and we may have seen the Salt Lake City Queen of Knitters.

