I'm tired so excuse the most likely sub-par writing. Today's prompt is: Your favorite piece of playground equipment. This brought up memories of elementary school and this giant tire swing. It had 4 tires attached and you sat on them with your legs inside the tires while someone spun them. they took them down when I was in 3rd grade because of safety but that will always be my favorite. So. Here it goes.
Spinning Tires
Long before I'd even considered driving a car I would sit on the edge of a large tire and spin. I would watch the world fly by and shriek at the air beating around me. It was a glorious feeling. When you're a child you're very nearly fearless and it shows in the things you'll do. I'd cling to frayed ropes and let someone I didn't know spin me until I could've thrown up. I would get off that "ride" with red palms and pink cheeks. I would skip away to play or, more often than not, get back into line to do it again. It felt like flying. Like freedom. If I'd let go I'm sure I would've gotten hurt but it made me feel as if I could lift off the ground and soar.
They took that piece of equipment down when I was in 3rd grade. I came back to school one day and it was just...gone. They cited safety. No doubt some parent complained (probably rightly so) and the school was forced to dig it up and take it away. For two years I learned to fly. I learned about freedom. I was going to have to come down eventually but for two years I let that spinning safety hazard give me joy. We grow out of that kind of joy and it makes me wistful now to think of it. Long, braided hair and dresses. White tights. Spinning for what felt like an eternity, laughter pulled from my throat by the wind. It's that kind of purity that we chase as adults. It's what we want back. And if I close my eyes, I have it.
Spinning Tires
Long before I'd even considered driving a car I would sit on the edge of a large tire and spin. I would watch the world fly by and shriek at the air beating around me. It was a glorious feeling. When you're a child you're very nearly fearless and it shows in the things you'll do. I'd cling to frayed ropes and let someone I didn't know spin me until I could've thrown up. I would get off that "ride" with red palms and pink cheeks. I would skip away to play or, more often than not, get back into line to do it again. It felt like flying. Like freedom. If I'd let go I'm sure I would've gotten hurt but it made me feel as if I could lift off the ground and soar.
They took that piece of equipment down when I was in 3rd grade. I came back to school one day and it was just...gone. They cited safety. No doubt some parent complained (probably rightly so) and the school was forced to dig it up and take it away. For two years I learned to fly. I learned about freedom. I was going to have to come down eventually but for two years I let that spinning safety hazard give me joy. We grow out of that kind of joy and it makes me wistful now to think of it. Long, braided hair and dresses. White tights. Spinning for what felt like an eternity, laughter pulled from my throat by the wind. It's that kind of purity that we chase as adults. It's what we want back. And if I close my eyes, I have it.
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