And among them was a clear blue rokkaku, one of my favorite single-line kites for calm, contemplative sessions.

The wind felt pretty much perfect for that rokkaku — not too strong, not too light — just that sweet spot where it can truly shine. So I pulled out a flying line, grabbed the kite, and got to work. I assembled it carefully, tightening the bow lines just enough to shape it properly. Then I hooked it to the line and tweaked the tow point — a minor adjustment to fine-tune how it would sit in the wind.

With the breeze at my back, I let the kite lift from my hand, slow and graceful, climbing with purpose. There’s nothing quite like watching a rokkaku rise steadily as you let the line slip through your fingers, the tension pulling gently as the kite finds its place in the sky.

And when it’s up there — just hanging, rock-steady — it’s pure peace. A dead stable, soaring rokkaku is always a relaxing sight.

In that moment, I felt fine. No pressure to perform, no tweaking needed. Just me, the wind, and a beautiful blue kite drifting against a quiet sky.