I have been thinking a lot about kites lately.
I passed a kite today while driving. I liked seeing it hanging there. I turned in my seat and stared for a couple seconds.

I wonder what it was like to fly a kite before humans had reached the air themselves. To feel so close to the sky, to feel the wind tugging at your hands – yet to feel the weight of that thin cord connecting you so firmly to the ground. To feel your feet anchored firmly beneath you as your eyes gazed upwards.

I wonder how long it was before people started to think of themselves as the kite. To think of themselves riding the kite. How soon it was before the thought of riding the wind and sailing the clouds crossed the minds of those holding the spools. Was it right away? Was it the first time a kite was thrown up to catch the early breezes, or did it take a imagination of youth later on to think such fanciful thoughts?

I wonder how many people lived their lives dreaming of flying, but passed on never knowing the beauty of seeing the ground from above. How many people flew a kite, but never knew what it was to see what the kite saw. To see people and places and nature and cities – from the skies. To gaze downward.
Maybe we take that privilege too lightly.

I’m excited to get back in a plane again – not just to go somewhere and visit places and travel again, but to be reminded of the beautiful things humans can make. Like kites and airplanes and cities seen from above.

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