Hometown fair

Austin Powell

Childhood Memoir

April 10, 2012

            Every summer my hometown has a fair the weekend before the 4^th of July.  The fair has everything you would expect a fair to have like games, rides, music, and most importantly food.  The smell of smoked turkey legs, buttered popcorn, and funnel cakes fills the air around the small town.  Flashing light bulbs of all colors and the ping of ringing bells are also a part of this event.  My family and I are entertained by the fair even when we don’t go.  Every year, 20 to 30 hot air balloons are brought to the fair to offer rides.  If the weather permits, the hot air balloons lift off around 6:30 in the evening and you can see them slowly rise about the tree horizon.  We all pile up into the back of our pick-ups and follow the balloons.  The shifting breeze decides their direction and determines which roads we travel.  As we follow the balloons driving down curvy country back roads, the sights and sounds remind me that I am home.  I enjoy feeling the force of the warm air as I poke my head out from behind the cab of the truck.  I love to see the lines of grass and hay bales as we pass freshly cut fields, and listen to the sounds of cicadas and crickets as we drive by in the summer heat.  Eventually the balloons have to land, and so they choose the closest open field to touch back down.  The astounded facial expressions of the riders always leave me to imagine what the view is like from above in a hot air balloon.  All of my little cousins love to run up to the balloons after they land and help fold the masses of cloth back into a transportable size.  I look forward to this event every year, because it always provides me with great and funny memories and reminds me of all of the small things I love about home.