The Art of Flying
There's a special art to using a park swing. You hop up on the U shaped seat first, then you grab hold of the metal chains with pudgy fingers and, once situate, you use your legs like pistons to start moving the swing.
As a young child, I am too small, with birdlike limbs, to propel myself so my mother stands behind me and pushes my back on the swing until I gain some motion and she leaves me alone to my own mechanics.
I close my eyes and kick harder, toes pointing skyward. Gravity helps me as my seat become airborne. Perhaps my chains will snap and I am catapulted into the blue sky!
I imagine once I am in the air I can fly. My little arms pump furiously as I crest the clouds. A bird passes me and we race, souring and dipping, wind whipping my hair, legs swimming behind me.
I'm not sure if all children imagine such things on park swings, but I know I can fly.
swinging on my porch
I hope you'll join in with a growing group of lively frreewriters!
And join us at the Isle of Write in the freewriter - retreat
art and flair courtesy of @PegasusPhysics
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