Dreams, aspirations, joy of living, love for nature, freedom; this was all a kite meant, a long time ago, maybe fifty or sixty years ago. Home-made kites A reed stolen from the vegetable garden, yes, the one mother used to support her tomatoes, Cut exactly in half with a kitchen knife. A handful of flour and a little water, and the glue was ready. Scissors, and brilliant blue and yellow paper bought at the store just down the road. A lovely blue kite, with a long tail, yellow and blue rings for wings.

In Japan, it is only in Nagasaki that one can see the Indian style Patang, known in the Japan as the Hata tako (flag kite), or just Hata, which translates as kite, although Tako is the more common, generic name for a Japanese kite. The name Hata is derived from the fact that the Indian-style Patang came to Japan on Dutch ships flying their country’s flag. From ancient times, the colors of the Dutch flag—–red, white and blue—–have been the sole colors used on the traditional Hata.

Hundreds of children, some of them homeless street children, flew kites in a Mumbai (Bombay) park recently as a gesture toward peace, harmony, and religious tolerance in India. The street children had made and adorned their own kites at a workshop conducted by Babu Khan of Rajasthan, a noted kitemaker who has made “lakhs”—-hundreds of thousands—-of kites in his lifetime.

My research in India focused on the manufacture of Indian-style fighter kites, known as patang, outside of the standard kite flying seasons. Most of the work was conducted in Jodhpur, Rajasthan. Much has been published in periodicals on the two major yearly Indian kite celebrations. But to the best of my knowledge, there has been no study of off-season kite production.

George A. Peters is a West Indian living in Seattle who has made a satisfying career for himself as carpenter by day, musician by night, and kiteflier over the weekends. He likes doing all three jobs, but it is the kites that are his great passion. “Kites are uplifting, fun. They relieve stress. You combine paper and sticks, string and glue and that thing goes up in the sky. What more pleasure can anyone get? I love making kites, teaching how to make them, flying them. That’s my satisfaction in life.”

At least from when Archimedes yelled “Eureka, I have found it!” while running down the street naked, baths have played a key role in invention. I for one have always been a fervent believer in bathing, evidence to the contrary that my best friends have never told me about notwithstanding. It has always seemed to me that for the inventors, showers are neither contemplative enough nor conducive to doodling—–until now, that is.

In his new book The Philosopher’s Kite: Essays and Stories (12 Second Press, New York), Tal Streeter roams the kite world and far beyond in his inimitable fashion. Part autobiography, part travelogue, part speculative treatise, part imaginative tale telling, the volume eloquently extols the pleasures of kiteflying and all things related to it.

In addition to his extensive trove of contemporary and historic kites, Scott Skinner, president of the Drachen Foundation, has numerous kite-related collections—-stamps, porcelains, paintings, books, monographs, photos, illustrations, pins. His easy favorite in these sub-categories is colorful, skillful Japanese prints of kites or kite-flying from the 18th and 19th centuries, of which he has compiled some 80 specimens.

Drachen Foundation administrators have been busy these days with imaginative publishing projects.

Adam Vance of Seattle was kite surfing well out in Puget Sound some months ago when his harness line broke. As his $1,200 kite blew away, Adam found himself stranded in the middle of the bay. He got back to land safely only after a long, arduous swim. With Vance out of sight, the kite was spotted in the water by a ferry crew and retrieved by a yachtsman. Hoping to find the owner, the yachtsman placed an advertisement on the Seattle Times’ Website vaguely describing the find, but crucially adding the date the kite was fished out of the …