The joy of bimbling

I had such a lovely couple of hours just bimbling along, time to stand and stare. How long Lord, how long has it been?

This pink balloon bimbled in the breeze right by my sit-spot. Its long silver ribbon tethering it to some rocks but it was clearly wanting to be up and away, straining against the restriction.

After blipping it, of course, (it felt a little like photographing an animal in a trap) I freed it and we bimbled together along to the burn, where it got all caught up again.

Freed again it fell under the influence of the wind pushing north and the water flowing south, undecided which way to go.

Freed for the last time, it surrendered to the wind, disappearing upstream into the dark of a culvert for all the world like a teenager escaping into the night, silver shoes flashing.