I loved the swings on the playground as a child. There were only eight of them, four to a set, and they were a hot commodity. We’d race out past the four-square, past the wall ball court, and into the dirt for the privilege of sitting first on that black, thick plastic hung from thick ropes of chain.
I wasn’t always the first one there, though, and would have to impatiently wait my turn. But, boy howdy, once I was holding onto that cold metal and kicked off, I knew what flying was like: a bit of fear and unimaginable glee.
I didn’t have to wonder how birds felt as they soared through the air because I was right there with them.
Earth-bound yet flying.
Image Credit: JJ Girl on Swing by the_scarer