Sometimes a moment lingers and the memory it produces is like a snapshot.

Blue skies are not shielding the hot sun’s rays. I ride to the waters in Red Hook seeking cool air. I often go there to admire the Statue of Liberty, the barges, tugboats, water taxis and rusted remnants of its industrial past. Now there are well tended paths and lawns that abut the water’s edge. Modern lounge chairs of wood and metal are placed for those who wish to linger.

I note a box kite not flying very high but the movements are fluid and graceful. It is white and gray, perhaps homemade, a long, wide silk swath of pinkish hue is its tail. The sea breeze keeps it easily afloat. Guiding its flight is a woman lying with her back to the grass. Her straw hat provides shade as she orchestrates the dance. Her movements are subtle, she reins in and reins out the guiding string with the gentle movement of her hands.

It is an impromptu spectacle of anonymous expertise.