Panguitch Elementary School playground was the reason I went to see Great-Grandma. She was cool -- in a Grandma, white-haired sort of way -- but the Tidal Wave, wow, that was the ultimate kid cool. It teetered on a center pole, suspended like a tight-waisted petticoat in a Southern cotillion -- swinging back and forth to the sound of merriment. A wooden bench wrapped around the bottom so you got a bonus ride of swaying back-and-forth as it circled like a merry-go-round.
From Grandma’s, you could hear the clink, clink, clang of the chains as the wind knocked them against the pole. It constantly summoned me to the playground and some days, I’d spend the entire day lying on my belly rocking back and forth, around and around dragging kid fingertips in the sand. I’d count how many times I could go around until it came to a complete stop then I’d jump off and push ‘round and ‘round until it my legs couldn’t keep up.
I pine to play like that – alone for hours with no thought of getting on with something less boring, just dragging my fingertips making designs in the sand.
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