There are many people on the lawn, both children and adults.
But undoubtedly, Sylvan Cheney is the most striking one.
Perhaps due to Jasmine Yale sitting, Sylvan looked particularly tall to her eyes, focused and attentive while holding the kite string, head raised, always watching the kite dancing in the sky, controlling the length of the string at any moment.
The kite wasn't easy to fly, as the string was too long to hold, too short to fly high.
The wind blew up the man's long coat, Jasmine watched, her eyes somewhat misty.
The mottled shadows of the leaves fell upon her face, she sat silently, looking toward the bustling lawn.
The little girl quickly became familiar with Sylvan, and would sometimes tug at Sylvan's coat, looking up expectantly.
"Big brother, can I fly it?"
"Little one, can you do it?" Sylvan glanced down at her.
"Of course I can."
