13 Lucky Days | Day 13: Don't You Know How to Fly a Kite?

ABOUT 13 LUCKY DAYS

I'll take 13 photographs (or maybe a handful more) each day for 13 days and share them here. For me, shooting is about being present and passionate and grateful of even the smallest of details: a quirky pouted lip, the sweetest flyaway caught in someone's lipgloss. I'll also share a few words about each photo, a little story. And so, on to shooting for 13 days, on to sharing, on to feeling more present and thankful. These are lucky days indeed.

I'm glad you're here, and I hope you'll check out the previous 12 days! This is the last one for now...

DAY 12: Don't You Know How to fly a Kite?

You think it might be a good idea, and every spring, you do it. Wind whips your hair, you see an open field, you buy a too-expensive kite because last year's blew away and got all tangled in a gnarly tree.

Why do the kites keep getting more expensive, or is it just your taste?

We bought a kite with a frog on it. Daddy was at work. A field of ball players was behind us, probably measuring us up: two kids under 5 and a mama with sandals on, is this gonna work? 

I tried to teach you how to hold the kite up high, you kept stepping on the tails. When I said, "let go! let go!" you just kept running and holding on, tripping again on the long kite tails. I hate it when my voice gets too crazy and pointed. But, "let go, India, let go!!!" 

And when you did, it rose up on the first try. I had to keep running and unravelling in the hopes that it would soar high enough to meet bigger gusts of wind. You thought I was running away from you and wouldn't let you hold the string. You yelled at me. I yelled back against the wind. Baby was just running after all of us and squealing with glee.

We tried again and again, but the wind had died down, that unpredictable spring weather. We kept running, my camera banging against my hip. Again. Again. "Let go! Let go!"

And then, "Don't you know how to fly a kit, Mama?" 

I explained it simply: the only way to do anything was to try again and again and learn to do it better, but we were relying on the wind. We needed the wind to pick up. And so we kept trying. We sat down in the spongy grass. We waited more. Baby found a soccer net and sat down inside: she smiled, was pleased with her little discovery.

And then, we waited long enough. The wind picked up, we righted ourselves, you held the kite and let go when I said. I ran and ran and ran, unravelled the string. I handed you the string when it was time, and you flew the kite for a while, smiling and squinting up. Baby stood beside you. Perfect.