On the Hill

On the west end of Seymour at Rock Ledge Park is the sledding hill.  In any snow day, one can see dozens of children trudging up the hill for the thrill of sliding down.  For a time, my parents had a house just across High Street where they could watch their grandchildren play.

In the summer and fall, the hill  is a place for people to walk their dogs.  We used to take our Australian shepherd Jake there because we could sit at the top of the hill and throw his Frisbee down slope for him to catch. Running up and down the hill was a great way to wear out a rambunctious herd dog. When we took him for his last walk, it was here we came.  We had tears in our eyes, knowing the next stop for the old dog would be the vet's.

It is in the spring that the hill is in its glory, for when the wind is from the right direction and blowing steady, it becomes the kite hill. There are no power lines, fences or trees to trap the kite.  Not even Charlie Brown could tear up a kite here.

Today, Chris, Tisha, and Evan took me to the hill to fly a dragon kite.  Chris got the kite up without any trouble and Evan had a turn, but they both lost interest.  In these days of computer game excitement why would they care about something that went up and stayed up in the steady wind.

Me, I have a love affair with kites. Yes, it goes up and stays up, but isn't that comforting?  I took the string and sat looking up at the blue sky on a perfect spring day.  

I remembered all the kites I've flown over the years from the box kites of newspaper my father made for us on the farm, to the kites we flew over Lake Michigan in Chicago in the 1960's, to the kites I flew with Chris on this same hill when he was a boy.  And now I was with his son.

That hill has so many memories.  Add one more.