Austin Kite Festival 2010
My grandfather learned to fly kites when he was a kid. He used to write his address on little parachutes made of tissue paper. He expertly sent them up the kite's line and then shook it until they dropped and were caught by the wind and carried to far-flung places. Sometimes a stranger would write to him and tell him that his parachute had been found.
Maybe these early experiences with kites contributed to his lifelong passion for flight and an unquenchable wanderlust that made him curious about all of those far-flung places and the people to be found there.
This year, we wandered past the Austin Kite festival. I hope next year we'll be back with our own kite. I want Jack to learn how to fly. I want to hold anchor for all of those connections that might just float away. I want us all to remember our own wanderlust, to remember our wonder.
Maybe these early experiences with kites contributed to his lifelong passion for flight and an unquenchable wanderlust that made him curious about all of those far-flung places and the people to be found there.
This year, we wandered past the Austin Kite festival. I hope next year we'll be back with our own kite. I want Jack to learn how to fly. I want to hold anchor for all of those connections that might just float away. I want us all to remember our own wanderlust, to remember our wonder.
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