Swings
There's something about the sound of a squeaky swing that gets me every time. Squeak forward, squeak back, forward, back, forward, back. There are 2 "baby" swings in the park next door. I hear them often on weekdays when moms are early to pick up their kids from the elementary school and they have to keep the little ones busy. I sometimes hear the swings earlier in the day, if a mom is on a walk with her little one and spots the empty swing. Every time though, for the past 13 years, the swings have made a sound when some lucky kid is being pushed in one. I think that we took the can of WD-40 over there once, but the silent swing didn't last. Maybe they are made to have that sound, to remind moms of 15 1/2-year-olds that the time flies fast.
We chose our home because of this park. We knew that there was a school on the other side of the fence, but initially, the park sold us. The suburbs are a funny animal. Safe, but generally not artistic. Friendly, but usually people are so busy working, raising their children, driving all over town, that people don't sit on their front porches and visit with the neighbors much. The park is there to catch the kids after school before they grow up too fast and have too much homework to play outside. The park holds imagination in the crazy bug- like jungle gym you get to crawl on after too many hours under those gawd awful lights in the ceiling. The park has more than 50 young Live Oak trees to run around, kind of hide behind, maybe hug and sometimes cry near for comfort. The park has a walkway that circles the perimeter so kids with their bikes, scooters, and feet can fly like the wind while being chased. The park is where the moms and dads can come and sit a bit before the bell rings and catch up on the news of the neighborhood. It might be the only adult interaction for some of the parents, who stay home with the younger siblings. Many parents just stay in their cars to pick up their elementary school kids, and that's okay too. They park on the street and wait to see their gift walking or running with that big old backpack, open the door, jump on in and then drive off. Some people are too busy to sit in the park and rest for a bit and watch their kids play. Some parents have done this 3, 4 times already with older siblings and are just happy to sit in a quiet car for a while. Some do not want to leave their pets in the car, so they enjoy the air conditioning with them. The sound of the children taking over the park is one of the most beautiful sounds one can hear. Even the occasional cry is okay. It reminds us that in life there is pain and joy happening simultaneously.
Now, this isn't a grand park. It's a little afterthought of a space where they probably couldn't squeeze in another house, so they planted some Bermuda grass
and put up few things for the kids to play on. The city keeps it clean and pretty well maintained. If it isn't, they hear from a cranky lady who lives kind of close... well... next door, stage left. It doesn't have a pool or a tennis court or even a basketball hoop. But the majority is shaded from the Texas sun, so it's a great transition place before you have to go home and start growing up. I don't even know if the kids will remember this park when they go off to college. They probably think that it's an extension of their elementary school. No huge memories will be made here, except maybe for the teenager or two who smoked weed in the park at midnight those few times, or the teens who met there on and off for about a week, to kiss after high school. But for the little ones? I'm not sure. It's been nice for me and my family to live beside the daily affirmation that life is awesome, life is fast, life is a little sad and life really comes down to what you can carry in that big ol' backpack.
I guess there is a tiny bit of envy that sneaks out every now and then when I hear those swings. I loved being the mom with the kid in the park. I still do, but it's a park with a diamond and the swings are different now. Life is. Swing forward, swing back and maybe carry a little WD-40.
September 24, 2017 1:08 am
needed a little WD-40 to get me writing again too.
We chose our home because of this park. We knew that there was a school on the other side of the fence, but initially, the park sold us. The suburbs are a funny animal. Safe, but generally not artistic. Friendly, but usually people are so busy working, raising their children, driving all over town, that people don't sit on their front porches and visit with the neighbors much. The park is there to catch the kids after school before they grow up too fast and have too much homework to play outside. The park holds imagination in the crazy bug- like jungle gym you get to crawl on after too many hours under those gawd awful lights in the ceiling. The park has more than 50 young Live Oak trees to run around, kind of hide behind, maybe hug and sometimes cry near for comfort. The park has a walkway that circles the perimeter so kids with their bikes, scooters, and feet can fly like the wind while being chased. The park is where the moms and dads can come and sit a bit before the bell rings and catch up on the news of the neighborhood. It might be the only adult interaction for some of the parents, who stay home with the younger siblings. Many parents just stay in their cars to pick up their elementary school kids, and that's okay too. They park on the street and wait to see their gift walking or running with that big old backpack, open the door, jump on in and then drive off. Some people are too busy to sit in the park and rest for a bit and watch their kids play. Some parents have done this 3, 4 times already with older siblings and are just happy to sit in a quiet car for a while. Some do not want to leave their pets in the car, so they enjoy the air conditioning with them. The sound of the children taking over the park is one of the most beautiful sounds one can hear. Even the occasional cry is okay. It reminds us that in life there is pain and joy happening simultaneously.
Now, this isn't a grand park. It's a little afterthought of a space where they probably couldn't squeeze in another house, so they planted some Bermuda grass
I guess there is a tiny bit of envy that sneaks out every now and then when I hear those swings. I loved being the mom with the kid in the park. I still do, but it's a park with a diamond and the swings are different now. Life is. Swing forward, swing back and maybe carry a little WD-40.
September 24, 2017 1:08 am
needed a little WD-40 to get me writing again too.
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