At The End Of A String

Every year, for the past seventeen years, Arvada has held a Kite Festival. I remember it being held in a small park, then it moved to a larger area and for the past few years it has been held at Stenger Soccer Fields. The space works well but the parking is terrible. This year I arrived about an hour after the gates opened and already there was no place to park. I managed to squeeze in between a trash can and a porta-potty and was able to watch a few kites. The fun part of watching the kites soar up into the sky, or not, is being able to walk up and down the fields. This year I stayed in one spot.

I could see that on the west end of the fields there were tents and bouncers of different shapes for the children. Who know what was being sold in the tents because I never made it to that side. One year, before the Festival became so popular, I was given a t-shirt that I like to wear when I attend the festival.

What fun to watch the Dads and some Mothers trying to show their children how to fly a kite. I noticed that the smaller kids could care less and it was the parents that were having fun. One mother and son stood about ten feet from each other. She held the string and he held the kite. They stood and looked at each other. "What do we do next?" I heard the boy say. "Throw it up in the air," the mother answered. He threw it up and the kite fell to the ground. At this point I said, "When he throws it up, you run while pulling the string." She switched places with her son but he did not have any idea of what to do as he held the ball of string. This surprised me because I thought everyone knew how to fly a kite! I do not know if they every got their kite up in the air because I turned my attention to the kites already up.

I love kites. I remember my brother making his own and I had to go find rags to cut them into strips and tie them together to be used for the tail. "The tail is very important," my brother would tell me.
After reading The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini, I liked kites even more. They are beautiful as they zig-zag in the blue sky. Some stay up for a long time while others come crashing down to be picked up for another try.

"I see children as kites.

You spend a life time trying

to get then off the ground,

you run with them until 

you're breathless, they crash, 

you add a longer tail,

you patch and comfort,

adjust and teach. You

watch them lifted by the wind 

and assure them

that someday they'll fly."

Erma Bombeck