Article: Remembering Swings: I Had a Swing Too
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| It looks wonderful, Sharon! What a special gift your brother gave you. He could have thrown it out. Or broken it up for firewood. Or just left it to rot in the yard. But he knew it would be the perfect gift for his sister! Look how beautifully it fits there!~ I had a swing hanging from a big maple tree in our backyard when I was young. We lived next to a school, and there was a swingset just a short walk from my own swing, but mine was far superior! Swinging high, I could almost touch the leaves. And it creaked. I had forgotten about my swing until you made me remember it, Sharon. It was one of those important things to me when I was a kid, and I had forgotten about it. The whole tree was very dear to me. I climbed it everyday! And picked Cicada skeletons off of it. Oh, thanks for the memory. (You always manage to bring them back to me, as you talk of your own.) Love, Nancy |
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| I have a very special brother, Nap. He knows my heart. Touching the leaves; you made me remember that. If I stretched my toes out, I could touch the leaves and certain times of year, the apples came bouncing out of the tree on my head. "It's raining apples", I'd yell. "Raining apples!" And remember pumping? It was amazing to me that I could stretch my legs straight out and up, reach the peak, then bring my legs down and my head and shoulders forward and without touching the ground, I could swing higher and higher as long as I kept pumping. It was magic!! Jarflies. (Cicada) I climbed the tree, collected the skeleton skins and buried them in graves beneath the tree. Somebody had told me that they lived underground, so I thought I'd put their skins back underground just in case another one needed the skin. Memories. Thanks, Nancy!  |
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| Yes, I remember pumping hard, and being kind of afraid too. Of falling off, I guess. But that was part of the fun! Nobody told me that Cicadas lived under ground. I remember seeing what they looked like (as opposed to just their shells) and being scared to death of it. I have loved hearing the Cicadas in the hottest days of summer, my whole life. It's always been a reminder of a very happy childhood. |
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| "Cicadas live underground as nymphs for most of their lives, at depths ranging from about 30 cm (1 ft) down to 2.5 m (about 8.5 ft). The nymphs feed on root juice and have strong front legs for digging." http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cicada I had to make sure; it's the nymphs that live underground, then they morph into adults and dive bomb little girls in swings. I kept my mouth shut when I heard them singing. That's about the only time I ever kept my mouth shut, though. |
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 Very funny! Dive bomb little girls on swings!  |
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| Trust me, when they land in your hair, it's like being hit with a well aimed rock. And then their wings keep flapping around and they get tied up in curls. It isn't fun. |
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| I can just see you swinging way high, and then having one of them land in your hair! What to do, what to do? I guess it's funny if it's someone else's hair! Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most. More ramblings at http://thegatheringplacehome.myfastforum.org/forum54.php |
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| I'm sure the jarflies and I provided much entertainment for anybody who was looking. Mom said 'Smash it before it tangles in your hair.' Smash it in my hair, yuck, no thanks. Smashed bug innards in my hair was worse than tangled wings. Trouble was, they just kept on moving as long as they were living, tangling as they moved. It was not one of my happier moments. June bugs did the very same thing. |
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| I think I'd have worn a hat. Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most. More ramblings at http://thegatheringplacehome.myfastforum.org/forum54.php |
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| Ummm . . . I think I remember losing several hats . . . |
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| Sharon, I never tire of reading your stories. As so many others have expressed, your memories trigger our own tucked away memories. There was a swing on my grandparent's front porch, and when we visited, it was my favorite spot to be - well, it was a toss-up between the swing and the big cherry tree outside the kitchen door. Now that my grandparents are gone, that swing is on my own front porch. It is the spot where I sit and watch thunder storms roll in. I love the wild, but protected feeling of being right in the middle of the storm - sensing the wind pick-up and watching the swaying trees and the circling leaves as the storm approaches, the sound of the rain and thunder when the storm hits, and then the steamy aftermath when it is over. Yes, that swing is the place to be, and knowing that my grandparents and the child that I used to be enjoyed it too makes it even more special. Thank you so much for taking the time to write your stories which in turn gives us the chance to enjoy them! Terri “Surely as cometh the Winter, I know There are Spring violets under the snow.” (Robert H. Newell) |
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| Terri!!! So great to hear from you. I can see in my mind that swing on your beautiful front porch. I'm so glad you have it and all your good memories that go along with it. Memories are what make us who we are, shaping and forming us as time goes by. Swings make the best memories. I hope you're enjoying a beautiful autumn. It's so good to hear from you again. Thanks for reading the swing story. |
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| My kids had a swing, I loved as a kid to go to the park and swing, There's nothing like shutting your eyes and enjoying the motion. I loved to ride my bike and roller skate too! We had our carts and enjoyed anything that went downhill, Man would I love my childhood back! Such a wonderful time of pure magic, no fear at all! Now I'm relearning to ride a bike, no I'm not trying to be a child, rather trying to be a father and role model to my children. I so want them to enjoy their childhood as I did but fear in our modern world their experiences will be far different from mine. Is that a bad way to feel? Has our world changed so much that kids can no longer play outside? Are there really more dangers out there than then? |
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| It's a worry, isn't it, Jon? But the world is a different place now, and our fears are real. Even so, I still teach my grandson to make leaf boats and sail them down the stream. And we use chalk and play hopscotch on the driveway. And we swing whenever we can. By knowing what we teach them, maybe they can learn to make good choices in today's world. Your memories are much like mine, I'm sure if you share them, they'll make a difference in your boys' lives. It's good to hear from you, Jon. Best wishes to you and your family. |
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| Thank you Sharon. Fortunately we live in Japan that is comparatively safe, especially as we live in a small village. I want my kids to grow up as decent law abiding citizens, what father would ask for less? |
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| With you to guide them, Jon, I'm sure they will. |
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| Their mom is a truly remarkable woman, I would love to have her gift with kids, patience, tolerance and kindness at every level. I'm an ordinary man and as such have my faults, however I pride myself on my ability at my age to strive and hone my parenting skills and moreover to recognize those skills in others, something I could never have done as a young man. Perhaps an old dad ain't so bad after all. I feel I ought to be their grandpa, yet I'm their father! A responsibility I take very seriously. Jon |
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| Swinging on a swing was one of my favorite childhood pastimes. I had a swing set in my back yard and my playmates would gather there. We played we were in the circus. We straddled them sideways and pretended we were cowboys. We saw who could kick her shoes off the farthest. We even jumped off of them in mid flight. The great thing is that this is one of the childhood activities we as adults can STILL DO. If I find a sturdy (i.e. playground) swing set I will pump away all over again. I believe Robert Louis Stevenson wrote a poem about it in "A Child's Garden of Verses." He understood. I think it started "Oh how I love to go up on a swing/Up in the air so blue/Oh I do think it the pleasantest thing/Ever a child could do." Will have to google it. Psalm 100 (look it up) |
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| Hi Nisi, You are right about the poem, I had forgotten till you mentioned it. There's a lot of imagination taking place in the mind of a child on a swing. It's like watching the clouds float by and imagining all those shapes you see. Great to hear from you. |
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How about this fine-looking creation??  |
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