Up, UP, and Away.

                                                                 By Shayla
I awoke at 4:30am with a start in our dark cave room in Cappadocia Turkey, and fumbled to pull on 3 layers of pants, 2 shirts, a sweater, a down coat, a scarf, hat, gloves, and 2 pairs of socks. It would be accurate to describe me as a fuzzy Pillsbury dough boy. Outside in the air that sliced with chill through my excessive layers, our ride was waiting.

It was still quite dark, and the air moist and thick. The vehicle paused several times to let other well bundled people into its mouth, swallowing them up, and rolling away.

At the launch headquarters, they served us complimentary breakfast sweets and cups of hot apple tea, which I eagerly wrapped my numbed hands around. The four of us stood around a small table munching.

We were altogether way too giddy considering the hour, but understandable due to the upcoming event at hand. My excitement pulsed through me and I laughed to myself, and stole cookies from Trevor's plate mischievously. I simply could not get over what we were about to do. We were about to go up, up, and away, our wild adventures taking us high in the sky.

Back in the van, we could see clusters of half blown colorful hot air balloons the size of houses lying like beached whales, tethered to their baskets. More of them loomed into view from behind the protruding fairy chimneys, like an odd dream. Each balloon was unique in vibrant color and pattern, but I immediately spotted my favorite out of the pack. Minutes later, after winding through the rock faces, the van came to a stop right in front of that very balloon out of them all.

The company men ran around like busy ants, finished blowing up our big beauty, and assisted the 4 of us and several others into the giant basket. We were quite a mixed basket of folks ;) (get it): Two young Chinese guys, an older British woman, an Asian woman, and a pair of European girls, plus 4 blond Americans, all of us united by the experience of going up in a hot air balloon in Cappadocia, Turkey. Everything was happening so fast, and my whole being was thrumming with excitement. By now the day was just dawning, the first light seeping into the world above the mesa in the distance.I watched in wonder as the first few balloons drifted up into the sky, so beautifully majestic. Our captain fiddled with the nozzles, sending off short blasts of gushing flame above us.  Soon, we too began to ascend, leaving behind the yellow-dressed company men, the dewy grass, and the fantasy-like chimneys, each one in sequence. I've experienced lift off dozens of times, especially in the last few months, with planes being our main source of transport. It gives you that surge in the stomach, the roar of the enormous propellers, the awareness of speed and motion, then a sudden rise when your brain tells you, "you're flying!" In a plane it is immediately obvious in that last split second when your stomach takes its leap, that you've left the ground. None of that is true about today's lift off. As far as I'm concerned we are a feather. Our lift off makes no announcement and gives no cues. We rise slowly, the ground growing farther and farther away still. We are weightless, rising and falling gently in our oversized wicker basket. We have no control over our direction and there is so much beauty in that. This is a journey in a very pure sense, who knows where it will lead us? The chimney strewn landscape grew smaller, I watched it happen as if in slow motion. When I finally looked up, prying my eyes off the ground far below, we had reached a significant height, and I realized just how many balloons filled the valley. In clusters more balloons stood at the ready to be set free. More and more of the elegant beasts rose up, filling the grey sky with color, bringing the vast expanse to life. Some lit up with a haunting flicker and glow before their flame disappeared in an instant like a candle being snuffed out. Something about that glow was so completely magical and filled me with awe. Suddenly we descended and loomed over a rock formation, that seemed so close I could practically touch it. Beyond the chimneys beneath us was a small valley and in it, houses were built into the rock face, many of them crumbled and abandoned in disrepair. But then we rose again, higher until the once expansive mesas had become tabletops fit for mice. Chimneys formed long curving ridges like the skeletal spine of an enormous creature. Fields of green, varying in shade, created a patchwork quilt that blanketed the whole valley. Even the balloons, which had dispersed across the sky, seemed miniscule. At one point our captain mentioned casually that we had reached about 1000ft. Wow. The temperature had most definitely dropped and to my delight, tiny snowflakes fell daintily into flecks on my mittens. I was in utter awe...and I wondered: how come such broken, messed up people--individually and collectively--are so privileged to live in such a beautiful world? We don't deserve any of this, but yet God gives us this wonder-inspiring place to inhabit. I believe he gave it to us because when we take the time to simply stop and soak up its brilliance, we are a smidge closer to seeing HIS awe-inspiring beauty. And boy did we get to see it and revel in it. The thing about a hot air balloon ride is that it's a tender experience. What I mean is that it would not be quite so magical if we were the only ones in the air because we wouldn't get to witness the spectacle of over 70 other balloons rising and drifting throughout the sky. Similarly, in the human experience, life is not so special, or meaningful if we were to do life alone. This is why I am so grateful to be surrounded by such caring friends and family.
We too rise and fall, but there is always the reassurance that they are there. And they sure do make life way more beautiful.
We too rise and fall, but there is always the reassurance that they are there. And they sure do make life way more beautiful.