kites, kites, everywhere kites

Another catch-up post...

One of the first nice days of the spring neatly coincided with an event I'd been looking forward to having nice weather for. The Smithsonian Kite Festival happened the same weekend the cherry blossoms first popped out. There was no excuse not to head to the Mall to take it all in, so that's what we did.

The Kite festival had actual competitive kite builders and kite fliers, but the competition's relatively tiny space was hemmed in by thousands of amateurs who had flocked to the Mall for the chance to show off their own kite-flying skills, or at least felt compelled to buy a cheap plastic kite to add to the critical mass. There were plenty of bargain-bin kites, but there were also plenty of intricately-designed models to draw the eye.

For example, there was a dragon kite with 88 hand-made individual kites making up the tail. There were sport kites that seemed to fly free of their strings. And there were odd-shaped kites, such as the Panda bear that couldn't quite get up off the ground. (He was a sad panda.)

After a while we wandered south to check out the iconic cherry blossoms. What we found, mostly, was a ton of tourists lining the paths seven-deep to get photos and trample the cherry trees. Snapping a few obligatory pics was enough for us.

Back to the Mall, where the fest was wrapping up. Then the remainder of the day was spent enjoying the sunshine.

showing its good side

This is the best time of year in D.C. - one of the only windows where the weather lends itself to appreciation rather than complaining.
The cherry blossoms have come and gone around town - not only ringing the Tidal Basin and framing the memorials, but also in yards and along the streets of the city. The pink and white blooms lasted barely more than a week before the green shoots of leaves took over, but the cherries were only the leading wave of a color assault which neatly coincides with the first days of unabashed and unrepentant sunshine, carrying with it actual warmth (but not yet accompanied by the oppressive force of humidity). As the delicate pink and white fades away, a vibrant second act of bright reds and yellows starts to take over, standing out from the now ever-present green.
As attention was diverted by the cherry blossoms, our yard transformed from a dormant, patchy rug to a plush, tall and very much alive layer of bright organic matter, pushing up (and up, and requiring mowing before drawing neighborhood complaints). The park behind our house has gone from a study in browns and sharp lines to a collage in which the nature of any one element is hidden behind the sheer visual obstacle of so many green shoots and coverings of every plant and tree in the area.

It's time to revel in the beauty of a city that normally is anything but.