Today I was with a group of birdwatchers at Kenneth Stainbank Nature Reserve, the first topic of conversation was who had seen their first kite.
When my Dad grew older he moved to a retirement home near where I live. So the race was now on for a kite in the same area. I honestly thought I had a chance as he wasn’t walking that much anymore. No such luck. His verandah where he spent most of his time overlooked Burman Bush. He won the competition hands down.
Never once in all the years did I win. It became a standing joke and a tradition in the family. Often times if one of my siblings saw their “first” kite they too would inform Dad. But he always had his bird under his belt.
This competition has however left a legacy for our family. Two Yellow-Billed Kite seasons as have passed since Dad left us. Now, whenever they arrive not only do I welcome them even more warmly, my siblings are reminded of my Dad and even some of my friends who followed the competition much to their amusement.