Flying Kites

The right kind of day for kite-flying is hard to come by. But sometimes, you get lucky. A bit of a breeze, but not too blustery, enough to pick up the kite and allow it to swiftly swoop in the most deliciously satisfying way, like your stomach does on a roller-coaster ride. Even with the appropriate wind speed and direction, there is some concentration involved in the process. The correct amount of tension in the strings that connect you to the kite, managing the way it glides through the sky. The many forces that need to balance in order for the kite to stay soaring, slight friction, not too much, with a bit of resistance. All these aspects come together to give the perfect flight and when it works, it feels fantastic, like you're making progress, like you've learnt something. Being aware of the stretch in the strings, knowing exactly the pressure to exert in order to control how it turns. It takes practise, sure, but once you've sussed the basics, you can work it any way you like.

Until, all of a sudden, there's a change in the wind or you move your arm a little too quickly, the string slacks somewhat. The kite stumbles. Sometimes, it picks up again with the next gust and the panic subsides. Sometimes, it falls, abruptly, without warning. A nose dive, straight to the floor. The gravity that was doing so well in keeping you grounded has won out and the kite sits there, lifeless. After a few more attempts to get it up again, you decide to give up and go home. It's a lot of effort for a small reward and it's just not as fun any more.

I don't tend to fly kites all that often; the right kind of day is hard to come by.

Flitterbox: KT Tunstall ~ (Still A) Weirdo