When I was very little, about three years old, I remember going to the hardware store with my Grandpa and my Dad. I can still smell the musty, sawdusty smell of the store and I remember looking with great wonder at the large rolls of chain that looked to me like very, very long necklaces. We were at the store to get some rope so they could make me a swing. A simple board with a hole on each end for the rope to pass through, tied to an overhanging limb in my back yard.
That swing was my special place for many years after that. I loved to feel the rush of the wind in my face, the dizzying swoon of winding up the rope and unwinding faster than I had ever spun before. Sitting on the swing in the shade of the huge Mulberry tree I formed many thoughts, goals, and a vision of who I really was. I dreamed, sang, prayed, and relished life. When I was swinging high in the air, I felt more alive than at any other time. Spring was my favorite season then and the warmth, the green life emerging all around me, the beautiful clean earth smells brought me so much joy.
Ever since then, I have loved to swing. I don't know if it is swinging itself that I love, or if it is the journey back to my childhood that brings me a feeling of peace and happiness. Whatever it is, I can hardly ever refuse an invitation to swing my feet in the air and lean back, letting my hair fly as I touch the sky.
3 comments:
That sounded so real. It was lovely.
Yeah, that sounded like a poem!
I love swinging too! I used to swing every day at recess in 5th and 6th grade, and I agree with you- it is a very good time for thinking and dreaming!
-Ashley
My grandpa used to tell us that if we swung really high we would touch the moon. I believed him. I think we did touch the moon a couple of times. What a sweet memory of my grandpa. I can't look at swings without missing him.
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