The weather cleared yesterday just before I got off work. In Alaska, we take advantage of every moment of sunlight we get during the warmer months. Within minutes, groups of people were hitting the Delaney Park Strip to play softball, walk, and fly kites.
When I first saw the kites on the walk from my workplace to my car, I thought they were parachutes. I was wondering why they weren't moving, or falling. Then, (ok so I have to admit to having a moment of confusion) I realized that the huge, colorful objects in the sky were kites, not parachutes!
I remember the last time I flew a kite. It was the spring of 1999. I was dating an avid fisherman. We were fishing, and happened to have a few kites in the truck that we'd purchased for Kaylee and my nieces. It was a windy day, and the fish weren't biting much at all. During a lull, he hooked the kite center bar up to the poles with the fishing line and threw the kite into the air. It took off like a rocket, and soared into the sky. It soared up fast, and emptied the reel of fishing line. It was the most memorable part of the day, seeing this burly fisherman, his eyes twinkling, laughing, with his "catch" jumping and pulling in the sky. When it was time to leave, he reeled in the kite and we headed home.
Seeing the kites yesterday reminded me that no matter how old, or young, one is the simple pleasures like flying a kite on a warm day never get dull. I could have sat in the park all afternoon watching the kites dip and angle their way through the sky. Their bright colorful display was a welcome site after 6 months of winter and the gray sky spring days we've been having lately. Just as I headed for my car, the clouds started rolling in again. For the 30 minutes I watched the kites though, I had been 10 years old again, with no place to be and no responsibilities.
I've got to get a kite!