Kite Fest

Today I went to a field.  Just outside my school.  I think it is called NIU North 40.  Why? I have no idea.

It was, it still is, sunny and eighty degrees.  But that sort of eighty degrees that makes you feel like its colder than that.  I grabbed a light jacket on my way out the door and soon found the sun made a much better coat.  It was the sort of eighty degrees that is the lingering arms of a warm summer, but also the whispering indication that fall is right around the corner.  The warm weather letting you know what lies ahead.

The sky was blue.  As I made my way from the south edge of town to the north, I noticed the punctuation of white clouds. Not overwhelming.  But present.  The blue was dominant.  Until I arrived.  And blue was no longer king.  Instead, the court was filled with purple and green and yellow and orange and red and pink and black and grey and brown, clamoring for attention.  Swooping and whizzing through the pale blue background.  None of these voices were quiet, none gave way to any other.  They called and laughed and gasped with me at the chaotic beauty of it all.

It was like going to the circus or the fourth of July as a child.  Everything was soaked in colour and oh so magical.  The kites shone like lights on the Midway after dark, the ferris wheel music playing just a little bit too loudly in the background.  They were like day-fireworks that burst into the sky but didn’t disappear.  They left trails of string instead of smoke.

I swear, today wasn’t real.  Someone had filmed today in technicolor and was playing it back for me.  And it was every bit as beautiful as I hoped.  I bet heaven is in technicolor.  I bet heaven feels like today.

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