Kite Flying

Happy Kite Flying Day everybody!  It’s also Boy Scout Day , but come on – which one of those would you rather be celebrating?

If somebody tells you to go fly a kite, you should definitely do it.  I remember an extremely windy afternoon once at W’s summer camp before we were married, hauling a battered old kite down from the rafters and taking it to the highest point we could find on the island.  It was much too windy to go out in the boat, and fishing was never my choice of entertainment, even way back then.  But neither was sitting in the cabin trying to figure out what I could say that would piss his mother off the least amount possible.  I don’t think I’ve figured that out yet, but perhaps it’s because I finally just gave up trying.

The wind was crazy, and all we had to do was toss the kite up into the air and start letting the string out and let it go.  The wind took it up and up and up until I thought it would be ripped to shreds.  I loved the feel of the pull on the string, trying to keep the tension just right, my eyes never leaving that little colored speck in the sky flapping around like a tethered bird.   I loved being the joyful anchor until my arms positively ached with it.  I didn’t love quite so much W yelling at me to pull it back a little, let it go, hang on, don’t let the string go slack!  He’s a born instruction giver and always the one who has to be in control, but to his credit he never took the kite flying over from me until I was ready to either drop or just let go.  Flying that kite was one of the best feelings ever, and I don’t have any idea why.  He helped me reel it in finally.  It was kind of like a rescue from the wind’s ferocity, but also like taking away the kite’s freedom to soar.

After that day I prayed for wind at camp strong enough to blow us all away. Or at least keep us from fishing.  But if the conditions were ever so ideal again, we’ve missed them.  I don’t know what happened to that old kite – maybe someone else took it out and crashed it into the trees or the water and left it for dead or perhaps the rotten string finally broke and that was the end of it.  Maybe it simply got tossed out with a bunch of other old crap that looked fire hazzard material.

I think I’ll put kite flying on my bucket list of things to do, one more time, before I die.