kite flying

There is a whisper on my life's wind, letting me know that if I will align myself and wait for that breeze to take me, I will surely find myself freely flying above the world below, soaring on the air I take for granted most moments.

When we took our boys to fly kites today, there were a couple of less than peaceful moments... tangled tails, crossed lines, detached string, sporadic wind. But once the boys managed to bet on the right breeze, there was no looking back. Their Spiderman and gecko kites were magic... risen phoenixes taken to heights we didn't dare imagine. Maybe because these were old kites that had been sitting in the back of their playroom closet for years; maybe because they were party favors from some long-ago birthday party; maybe because they were inexpensive trinkets we didn't want to set our hopes upon. It's funny how easily we judge things based on where they come from... clothing, kites, people.

Yet, despite their humble beginnings, these kites were the apple of my eye for several glorious moments on this fine February afternoon... more beautiful than the magnificent blue sky behind them, more awe-inspiring than the midday moon. For even into the night, I can hear my boys' squeals of delight and triumph, and I can remember that flights are made of these -- unexpected, gorgeous moments with just the right amount of wind and just the right temperature. And even then, one must work to make the flights actually happen.

In the end, each of my sons had to pull his kite in, spooling its string gently back into place while keeping a watchful eye on the ever-descending kite and tail. Spiderman and the gecko made their way back to earth, but it was Mommy and Daddy who would later recall their notable excursions into the wild, blue yonder.

Should I ever find the words to express to my sons what their kite flying did for me this day, I hope to share with them. Because right now, I can't quite put my finger on what it is that seems so close I can almost touch it, yet far enough away that I almost fear missing that perfect breeze... that is, until the next one comes along.