Blades of grass rippled gently like waves in the water as a light breeze eased into the park. The bright mid afternoon sun shone down from the beautiful azure sky, illuminating the clouds and the trees in a golden hue. The only sound that interrupted the tranquil silence was the light dripping of water coming from the massive fountain that stood in the center of the lush pond. The lily pads floated gracefully in the water, their pretty pink pedals decorating the greenish blue water and providing shade for the tiny fish that swam in it. My bare feet leaped from stepping stone to stepping stone, touching against their warm surfaces. I stepped off of the final stone, hot from the sun's radiant heat, and into the smooth grass, which stretched out far down the park like a soft silk carpet, and my T-shirt and shorts rippled against my body in sync with the green willows as another breeze entered the park. My dad came up to me with the kite, his large, towering stature shining below the clear sun. The flying structure was graceful and complex, the red spun cloth clinging onto the wooden skeleton, which emanated an aroma that smelled like old bamboo. My mind dreamed to the marketplaces of the ancient Chinese towns, imagining the different craftsman work busily at their stores. Taking a deep breath in, the smell filling my nose along with the crisp, end-of-summer air, I closed my eyes. The sun's rays warmed me and permeated me, and a graceful zephyr whispered into my ear.

My dad, a white hat placed lopsided on his head, had come from the old, quiet store. He exclaimed excitedly, “We got the kite! Let's go fly it!”

His words made me uneasy. What if the kite breaks? I thought.  I wasn’t so sure; my fears of losing the kite were still present in my mind. “Are you sure?” I asked him.

He nodded and said enthusiastically, “Yeah.”  Slowly shuffling toward my dad, I grabbed the kite, its wooden structure clunking like an old complex mechanical toy. Its string was wrapped around tightly on the wheel. I looked back at the store. Stacks of Instant Noodle wrappers lined the front shelves, but behind it lined rows and rows of different toys and kites, now untouched from the children who had returned to school as the park was taken into autumn’s hands. It was silent, no one working in the store, but the cacophonic sound of beeping cars and trucks in the busy streets beat lightly outside.

My dad handed me the wooden spool where the string was rolled, and I reluctantly took it in my hands. He looked at me encouragingly, his eyes bright with adventure and excitement. “Do it.” My hands shifted nervously to the string, shaking a bit. Then, in one swift movement, my finger unrolled the string. The kite expanded, it flew into the air like a bird as the string unraveled its magic. I stood back, its magnificent structure slowly unfolding and rising into the blue sky, casting a giant shadow onto the ground as it took off like a plane soaring into the air. Soon, it was there, flapping in the wind, high up. A smile crept across my face, and I began to laugh. My dad shouted, “You did it!” He patted me on the back enthusiastically.

“Yeah!” I responded. I laughed again, joyously. I set my hands on the spool, my fears gently assuaged. The kite floated majestically in the air, going up 50 feet, then higher and higher, its magnificent red structure spread outwards like wings. It flew past the giant trees, the bottom layer of their leaves already turning brown and red, and brushed surfaces against the massive skyscrapers that surrounded the park. It touched the bright clouds in the boundless sky. My mind dreamed, my thoughts surrounded in a creamy aura of euphoria. My dad cheered and waved his arms happily as the kite flew and soared into the air. Suddenly, a few smaller kids joined us. “Let’s fly our kites too!” they cheered. Together our kites formed a beautiful shape in the sky, shining in different colors. The park grew in people as it came to life.

We guided the kite into the deeper sections of the park. The willows whistled happily for us, dancing in the wind. The massive botanical garden stood in its beauty. We passed an old, weathered rock mountain decorated with bonsai trees. Deciding to rest, we set the kite down for a while, and my dad managed to get me onto a cart. Someone pulled me through a path, me squealing happily in the back as the wheelie took me forward. I looked back at my dad and a smile lit my face from ear to ear; his camera flashing. I smelled the crisp pre-autumn leaves on the trees lining the path; already turning red and yellow.

We exited the park, and neared the rows of trees. Then the unthinkable happened.

  The kite clumped and was tangled in the twines of an old tree's branches. We moved toward the tree, bewildered, scared. Leaves flew down as my dad tried desperately to pull it down. But it struggled to escape, its wooden structure clunking uselessly against the thick, dark branches. My sweaty forehead began to heat up. Closing my eyes, I looked away and buried my face in my hands. No, this isn’t happening. It can’t be, I thought. Then I heard footsteps. It was an old man; he smiled at us and let us step aside, moving toward the tree. He groaned and tried to heave the kite down. But it stubbornly remained in that position, trapped between two branches, completely paralyzed, with no way of getting out. We were disappointed, and my heart sank. My kite. It’s gone. I felt like crying, a hole of painful emptiness had opened up inside me. But despite the loss, we smiled at the man, warmly grateful for his kindness. We left the park silently, watching him wave at us as we exited through the gates. My father put his hand on my shoulder as we moved onto the sidewalk.