I don't usually hang around taking photos in playgrounds - there are few more surefire ways to get a criminal record/beating/string of glam hits blacklisted from the radio. This time, fortunately, I was out with dear friends and their toddler, and hence the swift whipping out of a camera attracted fewer angry mobs than it might otherwise have done.
There were a few of these balloons around, some snagged in trees and some rolling free, and they were evidently printed for the birthday of one of the abundant toddlers. Although the birthday girl (I assume, from the pink) had clearly departed, the balloons kept on entertaining, and the snagged were tugged from trees for play and the rolling kicked about. Small children are hardly the most gentle balloon handlers, and none of the printed pinks lasted long. Their attention span is similarly short, happily, so the popping was likely quickly forgotten, and the rest of the early autumn day enjoyed simply for its warmth and rich light.
