A sunlit splash of color bobs and dances high above the earth, first dipping, then fluttering giddily up toward the clouds. On the ground, a young boy watches the bright bird, his head thrown back, expression rapt, clutching the slender string that connects him magically to the sky.

Perhaps more than the robin, the crocus and the sound of night peepers, a glimpse of a kite sailing beneath the clouds is the final promise that spring has come to stay.

Maine, with its endless wind, open fields and miles of beach, is a kite-flier’s dream. In spring the sky above the Atlantic from Pembroke to Kittery becomes a weekend mooring for thousands of kites. Small diamond shapes with rag tails, exotic, spinning wind socks, up to 90 feet long, swooping, diving stunt kites, elaborate box models sail in a gay regatta above the water.

Kites, without doubt, are in. But then, there has never been a time when they weren’t.

Although believed to have been invented by the Chinese around 1000 B.C., kites have shown up in nearly every global culture, from Egypt to Guatemala. The history of the kite is closely entertwined with mankind’s perennial obsession with flight. Giant, man-lifting kites were developed early on — the Greek myth of Dedalus, who learned to fly but soared too close to the sun, is thought to have been inspired by an early kite-flying incident.

The Chinese, perhaps the world’s most devoted kite flyers, used kites in fortunetelling, festivals and in war as signaling and measuring devices. Even Mao Tse Tung was unable to part his countrymen from their beloved kites, despite a short-lived effort to ban them as “bourgeoise.” So attached are Orientals in general to kites that the Japanese have a special term for it — “tako kichi,” or, roughly, kite crazy.

Today’s kites are as diverse as the people who fly them, ranging from small, single-string drugstore models to hi-tech giants that could cover half a football field and require up to 20 people to fly. Kite flying is now considered a serious sport by many; three kite magazines are now available and dozens of kite-flying festivals and contests are held around the world annually.

Although Lincoln City, Oregon, bills itself as the “kite capital of the world,” the world’s largest kite festival is held in Washington Beach, Wash., where more than 100,000 kite enthusiasts gather each spring.

Rich Manalio, owner of the Harbor Flags and Kite Shop in Wells where kites are sold year-round, said kite sales have been growing about 15 per cent annually. Customers range from casual kite fanciers to committed kite fanatics.

“One man I know owns 280 kites and has flown every single one of them,” said Manalio.

There are even a few diehard kitists who fly their kites in the dead of winter. “But most people prefer to wait until spring when they won’t freeze to the lines,” Manalio said.

Manalio’s kites run from $4.98 to more than $1,000. In almost all, rip-stop nylon and aluminum spars have replaced the traditional silk or paper and cedar sticks. Stunt models — kites that can be intricately controlled by the flier — are the single most popular type of kite, accounting for one half of all sales, said Manalio.

Larger man-lifting kites are growing in popularity among the daring. To fly these monsters, the kite strings are attached to a special harness worn by the flier who is then anchored to the ground by a bungie cord. “I’ve watched these guys out on the beach, bobbing up and down at the end of their bungie cords like yo-yos!” marveled Manalio, who added drily, “People tend to take all sports to extremes and kite flying is no exception.”

Kite flying has, in fact, joined the ranks of sports that can be considered dangerous. A few years back, at the Washington Beach festival, the designer of the largest kite launched in the United States was killed when his foot became tangled in one of the many lines; he was lifted more than 200 feet into the air before being dropped to the ground. Even smaller kites can be hazardous because of the speeds some can achieve. One Flexifoil Power Kite was clocked at 108 mph — fast enough to put a good dent in a nearby windshield — or spectator.

But the magic of flight has always outweighed its dangers. Even if civilization as we know it someday crumbles to dust, someone, somewhere will still be flying a kite.

Cheryl Seal of Dover-Foxcroft is a free-lance writer.