My husband was born and raised in Jamaica. As a child he and his friends would often make their own toys, like wooden cars with bottle cap wheels, and kites. Using bamboo and newspaper, they built their own flying machines and sent them up with fishing wire.
He’s been trying to share this with the kids, passing on his passion to the next generation. Bamboo isnt readily available here where I live, so he’s had to buy kites. It’s all good, as long as they fly. They enjoy the experience, but I just hang back watching them have fun.
Yesterday that changed. He bought another kite and had me go to the field with him. I must admit I was less than enthused, I couldn’t see the point. I told him he had 10 minutes then I wanted to go back in. He put the kite together, unfurled the tail, attached the string and waited for a good breeze.
And up it went! And it looked pretty….bright coloured tail against a bright blue sky. Fair enough, I thought, seems like fun. Then he gave me the reigns, he handed me the spool of string and I felt the kite jerk, being pulled by a strong current. That’s when it hit me….there’s power in your hands when you hold a kite. When you feel the pull and you let the string out little more by little aaaaannnd STOP!
Now just relax and watch it float, dip, rise. Listen to the rustle of the air moving under and over and around it. Feel the warmth of the sun on your face as you stare straight up, as your kite goes higher and higher in the sky fading as the distance between it and you increases
We were there for half an hour, and I enjoyed every minute! I get it now, I see why he wants to share this with me and the kids. There’s a joy kite flying, a harkening back to simpler times. And I highly recommend it.
Thanks for stopping by! 🌸