Back in my island paradise, before I left, the skies were alive with a seasonal invader – the bright swooping shapes of a myriad kites. I met a man on the way back from Kandy the other day, face intent, body strangely still except for rapidly winding hands.
His string was a thousand metres, his admirers explained, and indeed I could barely see the ascending blue and red speck in the sky until he set it swooping among the clouds.
A little further on, down in paddy country, it seemed whole villages were at play in the freshly harvested fields – mums with babies, granny and grandpa, everyone was joining in the fun.
Balanava! Look … There in the Distance