I love the kite.
Because it’s everything Cas is and everything he isn’t.
On the one hand, it’s flying free. Something Cas should be doing, having rebelled and taken up arms for free will.
And yet, the wind—the kite’s movements are influenced by the world around it. And, though it may be flying, it’s still tethered. It’s still guided by a length of rope. In fact, it needs the rope and the wind and the grounded man in control to fly at all. To be truly free is to be severed, to fly without a course, to give oneself to chaos.
The kite’s body is a basic, faithful cross. But, no matter how sturdy its frame—no matter how strong Cas’s conviction—it’s not free. It can’t fly on its own.
When Cas sees the kite, I wonder which he sees: the ascending hope of free will, or the sadness of angel always tied to some ideal.
Now, who’s the man and what’s the wind and what’s the rope is all sort of relative. Is the man God, and is the rope loyalty? Is the man the Winchesters, and the rope free will?
Is the man God, the rope love, and the wind the free will that Cas needed to finally soar?