Childhood Memory: Lying on my back in a yellow green field, staring at the red and yellow kite flying bright in the deep blue sky. Dark trees on the horizon, my cousins shouting around me.
Edinburgh Kite Festival: The fields below Salisbury Crags are crowded with familes, students, groups of youngsters, dogs. The blue air is full of multi-coloured kites of all types jostling against each other, swooping or gliding, climbing and falling. The sounds of laughter everywhere.
Red Kites: Going on holiday to the Black Isle, knowing that there might be a chance of seeing Red Kites. The birder's anticipation of a rare species. Nothing though can prepare for the thrill of a kite appearing on the wing in front of you, glowing vibrant in colours even the best field guides never prepared you for. Pure energy of a raptor, the joy of a bird now not so rare as it was.
Kites for Weekend Wordsmith