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
There's something about kites and Christmas cards. Thank you for these. And the awards and poems. (And the sexy single. She's sexy AND smart! We're very happy.)
ReplyDeleteThanks Writer on Board, though i think you lost me somewhere along the way...
ReplyDeletea memory forever written in the book that is paradise.....
ReplyDeleteYou made such good pictures through words, I feel like I've been somewhere. Thank you.
ReplyDelete