As the kite danced, my heart filled with peace

Then a wondrous thing — a man flying a kite. The kite — a dragon, a bird — swooping and hovering in the gorgeous pink sky.

For an hour we watched, commenting every now and then on the expert motions of the kite flyer, or on what we could see from our bench — way off, the viaduct, the coolly beautiful neon blue light of the suicide barrier on the bridge, even the train rushing through. We felt a solidarity with the other people in the park, gathered there with cameras, lovers and of course dogs for the sunset.

The dancing silhouette of the kite against the sky made me so happy, it began to cure my soul sickness.

I can be lofty and say it was all the recent shattering world events that caused my soul to shrivel, for that was certainly a big part of it.

We had called our kids in France after Nice and heard their pain and terrorism fatigue, discussed the wisdom of always wearing running shoes to crowd events.

We had emailed our family friend in Istanbul to make sure he was safe, and yes, he was, but what of the future?

We had absorbed every shooting, every statement desperately calling for peace, we had called up videos of Donald Trump — why do we inflict ourselves with his crass lying hatred? But we do. We have to. Throughout these political events, I have been on my phone constantly. “Twitter is not real life,” gently cautioned a friend who feared I had perhaps forgotten about the real world.

“I know that,” I insisted, but couldn’t put it away, the bad news newswire replete with the sarcasm that was once the purview of crusty editors on a newsroom floor, now woven seamlessly throughout my feed.

That kite, it dipped and fluttered so exquisitely I began to think it was the only birthday present that mattered — apart from my loved ones. It was whispering to my soul after a trying year of not only horrible and frightening world events but also some personal challenges.

I still have a bad head, almost a year into post-concussion healing after a fall.

It no longer feels like furniture being moved inside my head, but a tight band around it, and prickles all over my scalp.

I’m more socially paranoid than before — who doesn’t like me? I am always mildly anxious about everything, from Trump with the nuclear codes to my occasional lack of tact. I blurt out the truth and then think, well that was a mistake.

That kite was whispering to my soul after a trying year of not only horrible and frightening world events but also some personal challenges

That kite kept dancing and my heart kept filling with peace and happiness.

As the sky went dark, the kite was slowly, delicately balanced down, and its owner started up the hill toward our bench.

We called out “thank you!” and he at first looked startled, but then delighted. “Is it a dragon?” I asked, trying to nail down the journalistic details. “It’s whatever you want it to be,” he said with a smile, and then leaving, added “You guys should get one.”

Maybe. But you can’t replicate magic, and a sudden sense of the sublime. You just have to be grateful you were there for it. Home we went. “You know what Trump said today?” my husband called up to me.

But I was staring at his picture of the kite — bless you, iPhone camera — and thinking, I haven’t felt this peaceful or hopeful in a long time.

A kite at sunset, the darkening pink sky, the twinkling skyline and souls no longer quite so pinched.

Thank you, kite guy. Judith Timson writes weekly about cultural, social and political issues. You can reach her at judith.timson@sympatico.ca and follow her on Twitter @judithtimson.