Nolan Fyfe

A kite hangs high on the left, tugged by a breeze that is willing to take your worries for a short flight.

A basket outside holds spare string and one very cooperative spool. Nobody has ever found the end.

A rose-colored kite strains on its string toward the right. It insists the best view is always one gust higher.

Kito checks the breeze with one raised finger and a grin, and gives every kite a fair chance to fly.