Before the balloon goes up

Everyone books a balloon safari for the flight. Understandably, an hour over the Serengeti at first light is not a small thing. But the part I keep coming back to happens on the ground, in the dark, an hour before anyone lifts off.

The envelope goes out flat across the grass, a hundred feet of it, and the crew walk it open by hand. Then the cold-inflation fans start and the whole thing begins to breathe. For about ten minutes you can stand inside it. The fabric glows from the burner light, the crew move as silhouettes against it, and there is no other light source for miles.

That is the frame I want. It is also the hardest one to get, because it lasts a few minutes, the light changes every second, and you are working at the very edge of what the sensor will do.

A few things I have learned. Shoot wider than feels sensible, the scale of the envelope is the story, and a tight crop loses it. Expose for the glow, not the silhouettes; you want the crew to go black. And be inside before the burner fires properly, because after that the heat moves everyone out.

Then the balloon stands up, the guests climb in, and the day starts. But the picture is already made.