Arts & Entertainment

Despite the fact that my wife beats me every game we play at, I still enjoy it. I have kept my Triumph Spitfire over many years, despite the cost of upkeep. I take pleasure in driving down country roads, having adults and little kids wave at me as I drive by. The kids particularly are thrilled, shouting and waving. I wave back and smile, still a kid at heart. The old gal (Spitfire) turns 40 this year. She just got "a header" put into the engine which gave her new life.
I have to keep moving, keep running – "no spinning wheels for me", as Gordon Lightfoot once told me. Just this week I was running along Long Point Beach close to where we live, trying to get my kite up into the air.
Kite flying was very much part of my childhood, growing up in Guyana. We often made our own kites then and flew them virtually all year round but especially at Easter time.
One of my favourite kites was the bird kite. Made from "pointers" taken from my mother's "pointer broom", the bird kite was slender, light and graceful like a ballerina. Up in the air, it danced and pranced, bringing joy to youthful hearts.
I bought an American bald eagle kite in South Padre Island where we wintered last year, and launched it recently at Long Point. South Padre Island in Texas by the Gulf of Mexico is like the kite capitol of the world. There is lots of wind, kite competitions and demonstrations.
When I was courting my wife in Barbados before we got married, I took her to Crane Beach and showed off a kite that I had made. I did my best to impress her with my kite flying moves. What she said recently was that my "moves" did not end with my kite!
As I launched my bald eagle kite at Long Point, the huge bird with a wingspan of almost six feet, took to the air easily. However, it soon came under attack from a group of swallows, who dive bombed and darted at it from every angle. They felt threatened by this new king of the skies.
I had to be quick and skilful with the string to save my kite, remembering some of the skill I had acquired as a child. In those days, other boys with razor blades on the tail of their kites could destroy your kite in quick time.
My kite flying also attracted other "birds" of the bikini variety. They stood by to watch and to chat and I soaked it all up. Some folks walked by and shook their heads wondering how a grown man could be so childish.
Be it bicycle riding, driving my sports car, riding my scooter up and down our driveway, flying my kite, or dancing the night away, this boy was born to play. Bernard is enjoying his second childhood and youth, a second spring.
We are in the month of July. These are the high flying days of summer. There is no better time to play. So kick off your shoes, go to the beach, break a sweat, turn off your T.V. and computer and enjoy the great outdoors. Play time is the best time. Become a kid again. If the creeks don't rise and the sun still shines I'll be talking to you.

July 6, 2011 issue
Arts & Entertainment
Flying high with kites and second spring of youth
Bernard Heydorn	Play days are the best days. An old saying My wife tells me that I am still a kid at 66. I love to play. Summer time and summer-like weather bring out all the play in me. Play, adventure, novelty, travel, romance and the outdoors make Bernard a happy boy - fun in the sun powers up the pleasure in me. I made "a bowling green" in the back of our yard to play on. Now I am working on putting in a "putting green".

*The kid, Bernard, launching his bald eagle kite at Long Point beach. Riding past in the breeze is a colourful Amazon parrot on its colourful bicycle. Vivienne Heydorn photo.*
Despite the fact that my wife beats me every game we play at, I still enjoy it. I have kept my Triumph Spitfire over many years, despite the cost of upkeep. I take pleasure in driving down country roads, having adults and little kids wave at me as I drive by. The kids particularly are thrilled, shouting and waving. I wave back and smile, still a kid at heart. The old gal (Spitfire) turns 40 this year. She just got "a header" put into the engine which gave her new life. I have to keep moving, keep running – "no spinning wheels for me", as Gordon Lightfoot once told me. Just this week I was running along Long Point Beach close to where we live, trying to get my kite up into the air. Kite flying was very much part of my childhood, growing up in Guyana. We often made our own kites then and flew them virtually all year round but especially at Easter time. One of my favourite kites was the bird kite. Made from "pointers" taken from my mother's "pointer broom", the bird kite was slender, light and graceful like a ballerina. Up in the air, it danced and pranced, bringing joy to youthful hearts. I bought an American bald eagle kite in South Padre Island where we wintered last year, and launched it recently at Long Point. South Padre Island in Texas by the Gulf of Mexico is like the kite capitol of the world. There is lots of wind, kite competitions and demonstrations. When I was courting my wife in Barbados before we got married, I took her to Crane Beach and showed off a kite that I had made. I did my best to impress her with my kite flying moves. What she said recently was that my "moves" did not end with my kite! As I launched my bald eagle kite at Long Point, the huge bird with a wingspan of almost six feet, took to the air easily. However, it soon came under attack from a group of swallows, who dive bombed and darted at it from every angle. They felt threatened by this new king of the skies. I had to be quick and skilful with the string to save my kite, remembering some of the skill I had acquired as a child. In those days, other boys with razor blades on the tail of their kites could destroy your kite in quick time. My kite flying also attracted other "birds" of the bikini variety. They stood by to watch and to chat and I soaked it all up. Some folks walked by and shook their heads wondering how a grown man could be so childish. Be it bicycle riding, driving my sports car, riding my scooter up and down our driveway, flying my kite, or dancing the night away, this boy was born to play. Bernard is enjoying his second childhood and youth, a second spring. We are in the month of July. These are the high flying days of summer. There is no better time to play. So kick off your shoes, go to the beach, break a sweat, turn off your T.V. and computer and enjoy the great outdoors. Play time is the best time. Become a kid again. If the creeks don't rise and the sun still shines I'll be talking to you.
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