The Swing
The swing rocked to and fro. To and fro. To and fro. And happily so. I could hear the giggles of my toddler while my younger baby was getting dirty in the sand. A while later, they both wanted to swing together. Luckily the swing had space enough for two. And now we had two sets of giggles. Well, make that three! To and fro. To and fro. To and fro. And happily so. It took me back to my childhood days. The swing was my favourite equipment in the park. The slide and the merry-go-round came nowhere close to the competition. The swing gave me a rhythm. A rhythm of thoughts. A rhythm of balance. A rhythm of calm. The occasional kick on the dusty ground to keep the momentum going gave me such a high. The wind on my face with my hair going all over the place, was the happiest feeling ever. This trance would, almost always, get jolted out by the staring eyes of the other eager children. Giving me looks. Or tugging at their Mum’s palla . And Mums in turn giving me looks. Well, even this wa...