Yesterday I stumbled upon a tree swing.
I was playing hooky from work and enjoying a morning walk with a friend along San Diego Bay near Shelter Island. The weather was unseasonably warm, near 80 degrees. The sky was clear pastel blue, almost cloudless. It wasn’t one of those clear days that make you think you can see all the way to Hawaii, but almost.
We were just walking, and there was the swing, clipped to a tree and hanging out over the water on what appeared to be a public path.
How long has it been since I sat on a tree swing and felt the sun on my face? How long since I have felt the wind brushing my hair as I reached up for the tree limbs? How long since I giggled inwardly or outwardly as a child with the sheer fun of a carefree swing?
About 24 hours.
Yesterday, I seized the moment. I sat on a stranger’s swing and felt the joy of swinging and laughing and being.
I should do it more. What about you?