There it was, just off the beaten path, in a little western town. We watched as three shouting boys streaked off toward it, all their pent-up energy propelling them along.
And just like that, I was sucked back in time down a long corridor to a playground filled with children's laughter, and I was the kid climbing those cool steel steps, all those many cool steel steps, to the top of the long, long, long slick steel slide that had the hump halfway down.
Then, pausing at the top, so very high, heart pounding, fingers clamped on tight, wondering what would happen when I got to the bottom, I hoped I would miss the puddle. After a dizzying moment of indecision, I let go. My long hair flew backward with the explosion of wind in my face; my tummy rolled and tickled over the hump. I was shot off the end and flew through the air, coming to a tumbled landing in the soft green grass. I needn't have worried about that puddle.
And that was just the slide.
As you can imagine, those three boys of ours took to this play set like fleas to a dog.
It topped out as the highest swing set they'd ever been on, and try as you might, you couldn't believe how much air was out there, just waiting to be caught out of those swings.
No place for fear, here, people.
None.
And the littlest guy?
He was right there, catching big air with the best of 'em.
And the biggest guy?
He and I were practicing for the paparazzi.
We hear there'll be some openings come fall.