Friday Mar 21, 2003
It was a dismal gray northeastern day in late November, and not particularly inviting weather for flying kites. Nevertheless, I packed my pinstripe delta that morning and drove several miles to a wooded park that had a large field. When I arrived at the upwind edge of the field, all was strangely quiet.
The touch football games that usually monopolized the park this time of year were conspicuously absent. No doubt the combination of the cold weather and the preparations for the imminent annual turkey fete were keeping people at home that day.
I began unrolling the kite, which was as drab as the day I had chosen to fly it.
For more on how a kite flight changed my life, read Window in the Sky inside the main site gallery.