I don’t know why, but on that midsummer afternoon, I passed by that square.
At this time, a black shadow jumped into my field of view.
Mu Ran looked up. There was an old man and the white thread in his hand. On the far other end, there was a kite. The old man was concentrating, but due to the instability of the wind direction, the kite swayed left and right, flipped up and down, and soon the kite fell down. But after the old man's repeated efforts, there was finally an elegant kite flying in the blue sky.
I was stunned, and after a while, I asked respectfully: "Can I fly a kite in summer?"
"As long as I fly it, I can fly it in all seasons!" The old man's hearty voice revealed unquestionable confidence. That heartiness stirred my heart into chaos.
can fly in all seasons as long as it is released. I love kites. Kites mark the distance between heaven and earth. In childhood memories, flying kites account for most of them. Because I know that kites can only be flown in spring, and I think only children fly kites. I always feel that without the gentle spring breeze, there would be no flying and no stretching of the sky.
But all this before me made me reinterpret it. The old man and the kite show me the philosophical meaning. No? Although the summer wind is strong, the autumn wind is light, and the winter wind is biting, far less gentle than the spring breeze. But it is wind after all, and when there is wind, kites can fly.
I miss that summer, and I don’t know that the old man and the kite flying freely regardless of the season are still there. Because of the wings of flying. Can occupy any season.
