Go Fly a Kite

Yesterday was the day of Austin's annual Kite Festival, and although Corrie and I missed the trek downtown, we did visit Brentwood Park, an old haunt down the street from the Dwyce house.

We brought kites.

Rachel had purchased the kites the evening prior. Soon after assembling them, we were out running and sweating and panting and, in my case, cursing quietly, as the three of us struggled to get them airborn.

Struggled.

Maybe the wind wasn't cooperative, maybe the kites were of substandard quality, or maybe we just suck at flying kites. I didn't think flying kites could be something anyone could suck at.

None of that mattered, of course, when Rachel finally got one up when a nice gust system blew through. Hovering high above she turned and called to us, with non-chalance. She passed the string around. When it comes to your fingers you find yourself with a strange smile and giggle. It's just you, wind, a string, and a captured sail trying to fly away.

Until the nice ups Rachel got as we were getting ready to go, all three of us had had tiny successes, and the photographs show that.

Here's Corrie with some nice distance:



A shot of Rachel:



Here's an artsy picture Corrie got of me:



And here, if you look close, it looks like I might be in mid-curse as I fight with the kite.



I will occasionally poke fun at my own frustrations, and yesterday afternoon certainly had its share of frustrations, but make no mistake: when I left work this evening and the wind blew through my walking corridor I realized I would be acquiring my own kite.

Also: Thanks to Corrie and Rachel for the pictures.