St John's Road, from 37 bus, 16th February 2008

And about ten minutes later, a second pink escape. Its colour and heart shape make it even more obvious that this was a Valentine's reject. To see two in ten minutes is rare - maybe Clapham is a particular hotspot of dashed romance.

I was actually on the phone when I saw this, but couldn't resist taking it, so slipped back the lens cover and took the shot anyway, mid-conversation. That action didn't hang up as I imagined it would, but as I expected it to and thus stopped talking, my friend hung up after a few "hello?"s to the background bus noise. I rang back having taken it. As she, like most, has no idea about all this, I brushed the moment aside as an obscure technical glitch with the phone.

Clapham Common, from 37 bus, 16th February 2008

Blurred by haste as the bus pulled away. Perhaps this pastel pink one was formerly part of a Valentine's Day gift - if so the fact that it was two days later rolling unattended on a small urban lawn does not imply good things about the relationship it was bought to celebrate.

Burlington Gardens, 13th February 2008

Spotted while leaving Secret Cinema at the On/Off thing, which that night was festooned with balloons and dancing and costumes. Given the performance it was hardly surprising to see a ribboned and pastel escape on our exit, but on the way in, as the event name implies, we had no idea what we were about to see. It turned out to be "Funny Face", a film of such anachronistic naivety that it felt like an Attenborough-esque study of the lives of another species. S'unpredictable, this life...

Brighton beach, 10th February 2008

Out of all the balloons I've caught over the last 2.5 years plus, this is my favourite so far, and I think I'll do well to beat it. The sunset was incredible, neon red silhouetting the gutted pier, the wheeling starlings just visible at left, the lazy viscous waves... a snapshot scarcely does the scene justice. The balloon, green although the camera doesn't betray that in this light, was ripped furiously from left to right by the wind and waves, so much so that a minute before I was about to leap down from the concrete groyne to the beach to attempt to snap it in the surf. I'm glad I didn't. It shot past the end of my perch so quickly I had only a few seconds to capture it before it was lost against the darkening waters.

It is doomed, as are all the others, but what a final journey.