When we arrived at the park, we saw another kite easily as beautiful as Tot's kite. It was shaped like a quetzal - or at least that's what I recall. The owners were struggling with it on the ground, the wind tossing it back and forth. And then I lost track of them as we chatted with neighbours, noted that it really was quite chilly outside and shivering just a little, watched laughing children running crazily after their kites or dogs or both.
And as Tot was flying his kite, I stood, holding my hat on my head and pushing my flying scarf aside, quickly forgetting that I even had the camera. The children who were trying to fly my silly little kite (sorry no photo) had already had their homemade kite tear in the strong wind. It was a lovely kite too - but had been put together with little pieces of scotch tape rather than stitching.
And then I saw that Tot's kite had fallen in the middle of the field. He walked slowly towards it, winding in the string, pulling on it to coax the kite up but the kite refused and insisted on languishing in the swampy ground. Maybe it knew of the danger ahead.
But Tot picked the kite up and sent it flying to join its slightly smaller twin that was soaring higher and higher.
And I got distracted again standing by the tennis courts watching the happy chaos. Until I heard someone say, "oh noooo!!" And I looked over Tot staring intently at the factory roof and pulling on his kite string. Helpless, I just stood and watched, despairing. Knowing that the kite would be lost. Hoping that whoever found it would return it (because we had stuck a couple of address labels on the kite just before we left the house). For a second, we caught a brief glimpse of the kite's tail and I remembered that I had the camera and started clicking away furiously.
The kite kept tantalizingly leaping upwards and then falling back onto the roof and I kept thinking that I was just capturing pictures of the factory. In fact, I didn't even know right away that the kite had escaped. I was so intent on clicking away at the roof. But the cheering alerted me and I focussed higher and higher and was thrilled to see the kite soaring upward.
And I got distracted again watching the children happily trying to fly our silly little kite. Until I heard someone say, "oh noooo!!" And I looked over Tot staring intently at the tree by the factory and pulling on his kite string. Helpless, I just stood and watched, despairing. Knowing that the kite would be in the tree forever. Fading in the sun. Fluttering, trying to escape. Caught. And I remembered that I had the camera and started clicking away furiously.
When Tot headed home to get our telecoping tree pruner, I stood guard over the spool and kite. Someone came over and said that the public announcement guy with the ladder would be finished soon and we could probably borrow his ladder. I considered it but didn't want to leave the kite.
And then a wonderful boy came running up and said, "Oh that's an easy tree! I could climb that!" And he started to scramble up the fence toward the barbed wire top. I stopped him, saying that the barbed wire was there for a reason. But he really wanted to try. He negotiated that he could safely climb the higher fence beside us - the one without the barbed wire - then he could climb the tree and release the kite.
We turned around to watch as others running to capture their errant kites.
And as we waited, we discussed it a little more. "It will be easy!" "No, the barbed wire is nothing!" "I won't hurt myself!"
And Tot arrived with the tree pruner. The boy really wanted to help and like a monkey started scrambling up the fence to the top, hesitating there. Stopping there. Thinking about how to get his leg over to start climbing down the other side. Stopping. And, thank goodness, deciding on his own to climb back down on our side.
Tot managed to get the kite out of the tree and I was pulling it out of his way. We both turned to thank the boy for his help but he was gone.
As we headed home, I saw the public announcement guy in the distance, carrying his ladder, exiting the park. We scanned the emptying park for the boy but didn't see him. We so wanted to speak with him again! To say,
Thank you, Valiant Boy!!
<< Previous page: Early in the afternoon we cycled down...