For some reason there's not a lot of kite-flying down at the river. There's plenty of wind, especially out at the ends of the piers, so I'm not sure why; on the riverfronts of some cities kites are a big deal. But today there's a white one, bobbing and weaving on the end of the long pier, near the white tent. White tent, green trees, white kite, bright and cloudless blue sky. Strong breeze, autumn air, sharp waves on the dark blue water. And while I'm at it: waving green grass, egg-yolk yellow black-eyed susans, pale purple butterfly bush, and sedum turning from green to soft red. Listen, the rest of you kite flyers, you guys with the red kites, the rainbow kites, the dragon kites with shiny green scales. What are you waiting for?