Let's Fly A Kite!

Kites

Runaway again fly for that childhood kite. - Chandni Negi

The sun was shining, the sky was a clear blue, and it was hot without being oppressive. It was the perfect afternoon for flying a kite.

That was what First and Younger Daughters thought. Pa, let's go fly a kite! Their voice rolled through with a warm glow of excitement.

I felt a soft breeze tumbling down from the distant Cave Creek mountain as we trudged along to catch up with the girls on their bikes. Looking out at the brilliant sunlight, it was hard to believe that elsewhere in the world, icy winds blew.

Out on the field about a few streets away, a group of children were already flying kites. The wind was blowing steady and held the paper shapes high in the cloudless sky.

Me first, First Daughter said, smiling so that her eyes became slits. Hold it, Sis, and when I start running, let go, she instructed Younger Daughter.

Resolve sliding over her face, she ran down, taking giant strides.

Younger Daughter followed, her arms outstretched.

They were tasting the wind, feeling the sun race ahead. For a second, it seemed like they could almost outrun them, the wind and the sun and their shadow at their heels.

The girls were grinning with delight as the kite took off.

Fly higher! First Daughter yelled all in one breath, her voice high with amusement.

Just as the wind kicked harder and briskier, the kite started to falter.

Older Daughter's voice became quiet and small. Oh-oh. 

Let the string out, Hubby was yelling, his face flushed, but too late. The kite had taken a dive.

My turn, Younger Daughter, said. Hold it for me, Sissy. T'will be a'wight. She was consoling with her usual charm. 

And just like that, the kite was afloat once more. The skin around Younger Daughter's eyes crinkled, her face lighting up with a warm smile. 

Just then, a powerful gust of wind started to rattle the pampas grass. It sounded almost like a whistle as it rushed up the lot, and smelling faintly of the earth. It caught up the yellow cassia florettes, swirling them into the air.

And one more time, alas! A crash. 

But you did well, girls, Hubby said like a Sunday School teacher complimenting his favorite students. Anyway, time to go home and eat, he instructed.

The girls shrugged and flashed him a sheepish smile. Tomorrow again, Pa? Pretty pleeze.

He grinned back, giving a little mock salute.

The wind had died. The afternoon had faded to a warm summer dusk, the sun making its descent in the west amid sculpted clouds, shading the sky in pink and orange.

It had been a great day.

A perfect one, actually.