I looked up from my sewing and saw this bird in the sky. A beautiful, breezy weekend day. This apartment complex is inhabited by mostly rather non-playful types, people over 50 but mostly in the 70 to 80 year old range. In short, not a kite flying crowd.
But, yes, it was a kite, a beautiful hawk kite, mostly yellow with Asian type markings, likely of Chinese manufacture [but these days, what isn't?]. It soared and fluttered and eventually fell into the parking lot. I assumed it must belong to someone's grandchild. But no. First I saw Joe, the building's jack-of-all-trades man pick it up. He handed it to the Vietnamese man, who was spray painting the shingles of the building -- the building belongs to a family from Vietnam. This is their American dream, their wealth, and pride and they take quite good care of the place. And, now I see, they also play a little bit, even when putting in extra hours of work over a holiday weekend. In the last year or so, many things in my life have seemed so serenditiously delightful ... maybe it's also a matter of keeping my eyes open and enjoying the tiny things like an unexpected sight of a kite in the sky.
The mid-70s are a surprise! Part of me remains in the 50s -- age, I mean, not decade of 20th century. It's a joy ride, new experiences land in my lap and I've become a better quilter, poet, writer than I expected. It's a rich life for a person never rich financially. Hey, this is what the mid-70s are like!