DENNIS JENDERS
Tuscany, Italy · 2018
We got up in the dark for a shuttle out to the launch field. When we arrived, they were still inflating the balloons, that slow, upright rise that always gets me, close to a balloon glow. This was my second flight ever. The first was an overcast morning in the Pacific Northwest, so this was the one that finally gave me the sunrise.
Several balloons went up together, which is a gift when you are the one holding the camera, because you get a sense of scale you cannot fake. We drifted low over the vineyards and the valley and watched our own shadow cross the ground. We came down to prosciutto, melon, and prosecco. A wonderful Italian breakfast before departing.
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Balloon at First Light
Shot long across the valley as the sky went pink over Montespertoli. The hills stack into blue below and the balloon holds the frame alone.
Sunrise Over the Val di Pesa
The sun coming up over the Chianti hills with a balloon small against the cloud. Mist still holding in the low ground.
The Villa on the Ridge
The pink held over a villa and its cypress on the far ridge. One of the quietest skies of the morning.
Above the Morning Haze
A tall frame with the balloon riding high and the warm band of sunrise pinned low over the ridges. The valley below still full of haze.
The Burner Lit
A balloon down low over the ridge with the burner firing, glowing against the last of the blue hour. The town still asleep below.
The Whole Valley Waking
A wide frame from altitude, the hills and vineyards rolling out under a soft sky with a balloon small in the distance. The view that shows you where you are.
Our Shadow on the Vines,
Low over the vineyards with our shadow laid clean across the rows, a stand of cypress on the rise behind. The shape of us on the land.
Shadow and River
The shadow crossing a cut golden field, a river threading the low right and another balloon out past the trees. Autumn just starting to turn the woods.
Low Over the Fields
The shadow again over turning autumn scrub, with farmland and cypress climbing the hill behind. The low, slow part of the flight.
From Inside the Basket
Looking up from the basket at our own envelope and a rope line, another balloon set far off in a mackerel sky. The angle you only get in the air.
The Valley in Morning Mist
The hills falling away in bands of mist under a warm gradient, a town holding faint in the low ground. The quiet part of the morning.
The Balloon Comes Down
After we landed, looking up the green and yellow envelope as it settled, one last balloon still up in the morning sky. The end of the ride.
