Sunday, May 17, 2009

Rockaway Beach Kite Festival

I think we can officially call ourselves kite flyers now, in the official sense. Yesterday we rode over to Rockaway Beach with my parents. We were blessed with a parking spot just steps from the beach, and easily hauled our modest bundle of goodies out to a spot just left of the big boys. That blue and yellow sled seen over to the right is monstrous, and gorgeous to behold as it ascends.

Our purple and black sled w/ tie-dye tails and a Gomberg windsock for laundry pales in comparison, but it's a start! We didn't get much else up, due to the light wind. This wasn't as successful a flight as at Newport a few weeks ago, when I kid you not we emptied the box and the bag and had everything in the air!

The wind was light and a bit unsteady, but enough to get things up and going for a few hours, regardless. This time we tried to get around to look at other people's toys, er, I mean, tools, and we struck up a few conversations, too. With organized activities like this, you never quite know -- is the community open and friendly, or are they closed and elitist? Well, at least the people we spoke to were the former, thankfully.

We began to feel like little fish in blood filled waters surrounded by hungry sharks, for we quickly drew the attention of those who have bored everyone within ten miles with their big fish stories, and their eyes alit with excitement of fresh blood to regale with their stories (with emphasis of eye rolls of others standing around). That's all part of the fun! We also got a warm welcome, a few wonderful tips, and great information.

We are both looking forward to the few smaller gatherings the coast offers during the summer, REALLY excited about the big festival in Long Beach, WA, each of us planning what new gear we're going to get before it arrives.

I love getting out to fly so much, I stopped to ponder why. It's because out there on the sand, with the sound of the surf in my ears and the sun on my skin, with a wad of nylon riding on the wind, I think of nothing else. I am not worried -- a very rare and hard to find state for me anymore. My mind clears completely, and I feel at once grounded to the earth, but looking to the stars. In some ways I feel a return to a light-hearted innocence where anything is possible. That stays with me for a while even after the packing up is finished.

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