Swing sets remind me of that night during freshman year of college when Larissa and I went out to the playground at 2 a.m. We probably had final papers of some kind hanging over our heads, yet we didn't care. We wallowed in blissfulness and delighted in freedom from restraints and demands of society. A long time has passed since I last felt so carefree.
This past week, J and I took a walk after dinner and found ourselves gravitating toward the swings at a nearby park. We each sat on one swing adjacent to one another, yet after only a couple of minutes, I realized that I was bored. For no apparent reason other than to defy the rules of how swings are supposed to be used, I slithered out of my seat and found myself lying on the ground with my arms behind my head and legs propped up on the swing seat. J eventually joined me, and we were two adults lying on the pavement in a playground, like little kids who saw the world upside down for the first time. Nearby, two Korean mothers conversed in familiar cadences as they watched their kids use the swing set -- the right way. The little girls looked quizzically at us, which made me self-conscious, but only for a brief moment.
High above, tree branches swayed in eager expectation of the coming storm. Clouds gathered and moved rapidly across the sky, like swarms of ants descending upon a half-cut honeydew. The pleasant spring breeze quickly turned into violent gales that whipped our hairs into our faces, while the setting sun cast a luminescent glow in the horizon.
However, despite all the movement and changes happening around us, time stood still as we talked. The ominous-looking clouds and powerful winds signaled that we should leave soon, yet the world looked so much more interesting when up was down and down was up. For a moment, we defied the rules of the playground. For a moment, we listened to the wind and the coming rain. We didn't hide or run away.
Comments (1)
oooh such a kiddo!