128. The Big Swing

     If I were to see a large wooden, sawhorse type structure holding a bench type swing, and I had nothing to do, I’d lay down on that swing and have a nap. That is, if it was safe to do so, and probably if no one was around to disturb me.

     A nap comes to mind as today I’m tired. As I walked from my home to here; the writing club; about twenty blocks; I yawned all the way.

    I didn’t sleep for about three hours last night. I was lucky enough to hear the half hour coyote symphony outside my window. When I got up to investigate, I never saw coyotes but did enjoy seeing the one brilliant star about two feet under the sliver of the moon.

       Back to the swing. The wooden structure and the high dimension of this saw horse type structure in the picture shown to us by the writing club facilitator reminds me of when I was in grade seven and felt older than all my sisters.

      I would sit on the swing; a one-seater and fly higher than the cross beam. I felt like I was on top of the world. I learned how to pump my legs so that I came very close to going right over top.  When we were agile and brave, and it was time to go, we dared ourselves at how high in the air the swing would be when we took the big jump.

     I dusted off many a dusty pant leg or walked away holding a skinned knee. It did not take away the fun feel of freedom.

                                                        December 7, 2015 – Ten Minute Writing –

—Ellen Sagh

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writings:   ellensagh.com

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