Then Comes the Wind

I took the kids out to fly a kite for the first time the other day. It first seemed like a reasonable proposition that later proved otherwise. The wind that once was earlier that day, became no more and left us alone with gravity laden nylon, sticks and string.

At first the kids were real troopers. I showed them how to run with the kite, allowing for just enough string to have it "fly" immediately behind them. As soon as they stopped however, the once airborne diamond nose-dived into the turf.

It wasn't long of this that found me trying to console my little ones and reassure them that the wind would blow once again and there was no need to ruin what had been a good day up to that point. Their disgust was evident as Cam stomped his tiny spool of twine into the dust and Cassi just wailed.

It's not much fun flying a kite when you have to run it constantly. The build up of lactic acid drives this point home in even the most boundless of legs. Sometimes we have to run for a while if we ever want to get the blasted thing of the ground.

Then comes the wind. It lifts once grounded wings and the pitiful piece of nylon and string that seemed destined for yard art soars into the heavens. Then comes the secret of letting out line and loosing the appearance of control.

I've felt as if I've run with dw like my kids did with their kites. It looked as if the wind was never going to blow through this thing. I've never wanted my hands on this thing and I hope that I haven't deceived myself.

The time has come. The winds are here. It's time to let out the string. I want to watch her soar. If they have, may my hands never touch nylon again.