Life is just a tire-swing

Zooming through the air, up into the blue and back again. I love swinging. We swing as children, but forget the feel of it as adults…the sheer freedom felt. Hair blowing back from my face, the race upward and then halt mid-air…lifted off the seat for the briefest second, and then down, down, down arching back up again. The creak of the chain is heard as I pull harder and harder to lift higher and higher.

I swing barefoot – always – and point my toes to the skies as I lean all the way back. I think being barefoot makes me feel more free – unencumbered. Smiling should accompany swing time, along with some singing.

As a little girl, I used a tire swing. I was instructed to sit within the tire hole, but discovered that sitting on the top-side of the tire while holding onto the rope afforded the best swing action. Our tire swing was situated in a big elm tree that I dubbed as my own hideout. Hours were spent climbing, talking, scheming, hiding, and swinging in that tree. My favorite was to climb to the big fork in the elm and have my sister lift up the tire-swing to me. Tottering on the tree branch, I would throw myself in free-fall fashion as my hands held tightly to the rope. As I fell, I would wrap my legs around the top edge of the tire and sit down – all the while gleeful with the swooping feel I had underneath the green umbrella of the elm. It never lasted long enough, so it was repeated throughout a summer day, until I heard my mom calling my name from the back door to come inside as the sun dipped low in the sky.

Now, I swing about three times a week. My routine walk leads to a park with a swing-set. So far, I am the only adult I have ever seen on it. Kids watch me wide-eyed, with understanding reflected in their faces, as I swing with unbridled passion. Note: my profile picture is me harnessed into the Giant Swing at Cross Bar X Youth Ranch....the best ride ever!!!