The first of the year, and a stroke of luck and good timing (although I suppose they all are). The small children toddling off into the distance here brought this balloon, and the older of two dropped it as I approached. As has been the case before, the mother marched on, smaller child in tow, while the dropper looked at the balloon forlorn then back at her departing family, and decided to leave it and trot after them. I was waiting for that.
It was evidently a balloon shape when the child acquired it, its numerous wasp-waists testament to a twisted past. No doubt a professional balloon shaper could forensically identify its former form from those spacings, but I have no such skill, so will never know.
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