The String That Binds

There is a weight to the air when the wind shifts. We spend our lives tethered to things we cannot see, holding onto thin lines that pull against our palms. It is a strange tension, this connection between the earth and the unreachable. We look up, not to find something, but to feel the resistance of the sky. As children, we believe the string is a bridge. We believe that if we hold on tight enough, we might be lifted, or at least, that we might keep a piece of the clouds from drifting away. But the wind is indifferent. It takes what it wants. Eventually, the hands tire. The string goes slack. We are left standing in the tall grass, watching the distance grow, wondering if the release is a loss or a final, quiet act of grace. What remains when the tension finally breaks?

Shovan Acharyya has captured this fragile connection in his photograph titled The Days of Flying Kites. It reminds me that we are all holding onto something that is already halfway to the horizon. Does the sky feel heavier now that you have looked at it?