Kite

 

August 29, 2022

 Greetings from an earth-bound misfit,

 The horizon joins a pale blue to the rich green, the universe fastened to the world by a rim of trees, so it won’t blow away.  An impossibly thin line of white joins the effort, connected to a piece of fabric dancing above the world.  I am holding the sky.

 This swatch of wonder was hand-made by a friend of mine, Craig, a Renaissance genius to whom I am forever grateful.  It is an intricate and simple design that amazes me, inspires me.  I lifted it to feel the air, and it lept out of my hands, a living thing.

 It is a rare thing to discover something so delightful that waited to be had right there in front of me.  A simple thing, echoes of childhood, of gliding on air.  Flying a kite may be more complicated than this, I suppose, if you want to do it really well.  But I don’t have those aspirations.

 You have to pay attention to fly, but the act invites dreaming and philosophizing and wondering. Alan Cohen said: “You will find truth more quickly through delight than gravity.  Let out a little more string out on your kite.” 

 The wind wants change.  It will chase the wispy clouds in this way, make room for rain, or something else.  It wants to matter to the temperature, to the leaves, it wants to shape rain against the sunset.  I interrupt it for a moment, and offer this slip of color into its path, and the wind is elated.  It whirls around to play with the kite, to see it flutter, to dance with it.

 I feel like I am fishing for wind.  I put this colorful bait in the sky and feel the wind rush to it, I pull the line, I move my hand, twitch my wrist, feel the wind nibble at the kite, and then take it and run.  I let out more string, and feel the surge of living.

 The line forms a graceful curve to meet the kite, this tiny twist of white, itself played by the rush of air, creating the reason the kite can fly.  The image on the fabric is Jake, my favorite optimist, the same face that graces my best-loved coffee mug, urging me to do what I like, to like what I do.  I smile into the sky, knowing the message from Jake has connected again. 

 Above me the kite dances and whirls, its tails fluttering with unabashed joy.  It runs in one direction and then back, like a fawn swept up in the fun.  I sense its happy vibration, carried down to me in the grass.  The kite performs because it is connected to the line, the only thing that restricts it, and the only thing that allows the beauty in it, the possibility in it, is the tension between me and it and the wind. 

 The unique thing about a man of a certain age embraced by something so innocent and playful and so connected to childhood, is that it invites thoughts that could not be available in other circumstances.  When I went to bed last night, I watched the kite fly above me and tried to capture what I felt.

 I feel the spirit of my sister floating above me.  I feel the witness of everyone who has gone on to what’s next.  I feel my children growing up, connected but now lifted on their own wind.  I feel the beauty of an unseen part of nature, connecting to me in this new way.   I feel the whirl of passion and joy in my chest, that surge you get when you are surprised by something you didn’t know you loved.  I feel like I am soaring on the air.

 I am more aware of the wind again.  This morning when I went out to smell the morning, the wind was there, asking if we were going to play.  I feel like I have met a childhood friend and despite all the years that blew by, neither of us has changed.

 

Hope this finds you learning to fly,

 

David

 

 Copyright © 2022  David Smith