We end the last issue of Kiteworld as we opened up the first. This little tale by Bjorn Verduijn reflects the verve and a refreshed perspective that kiteboarding adds to our lives as accurately now as it did back in 2001. Enjoy every session and steal them as often as you can!

It’s definitely on. The fog that had filled the city through the still night has cleared, and a steady cross-onshore wind enters Ayr Bay. I follow the track that leads out onto the open beach of Scotland’s west coast. The sharp air of the Atlantic Ocean is unmistakable in the breeze. Equipment: tiny Mutant, huge inflatable Water: choppy, 2-3 feet, mid-tide Time: 07.00am A man with a lean face crosses the dunes with his dog. I wave at him with my left hand. My right arm grasps my 16 metre inflatable kite. Do I confuse him? He says nothing. The water is freezing cold after the Scottish winter. Stepping in is a sensory shock. But the sea is a platform that allows me to take refuge from my hectic life. Escape. The direct contact of my body with the naked forces of nature gives me the strength of life’s energy. I know that my eyes are wide open, awake and highly reactive. A quiet gaze can be amazingly loud. I set out on a long carving tack out to sea. This is unlike anything we know. This is not imitation. This is evolution. Renewal. Never has spring felt so good. The sharp, salty taste of the sea, the bright morning light, the biting wind; everything is imprinted on my mind. When I finally come back in, the beach is still empty. The quiet man and his dog are gone. But the whole, the unity appeals. It’s 8am as I wander back to the car. I fold my semi-inflated kite down onto the passenger seat beside me. I drive back to the city, smiling at strangers along the way. The day begins... By Bjorn Verduijn

Let it go, let it go...