As kids, we'd buy the cheesy kites at the little Steven's Store across the street, put them together, tie long tails on, run as fast as we could into the wind.... and those darned kites would rarely fly the way we dreamed they could.
Sometimes the string broke free and off they sailed to kite heaven.
Sometimes they crashed and burned and left this earth via the garbage man.
Sometimes they landed, and we stumbled on them and crushed them.
And yet, we had so much fun trying to fly those kites! Just imagining them lazily drifting up with the clouds as we laid on our backs watching them float, steadily holding the string, was good enough for us.
We sure did get our fresh air and exercise, along with a lot of laughs, too!
I spotted this kite in a tree today. It looks like it has spent some time there... perhaps a statistic from lat year's kite flying season.
Whatever and whomever guided this old kite into these particular limbs does not matter to me. I'm just glad it was there, because I have spent lots of moments thinking back to those old kite flying days of mine.
Perhaps there is a kite flying festival day to come to Putnamania some day! Wouldn't that be fun!