We had a giant weeping willow tree in our back yard, the branches were easily fifty feet high. My dad was a tree man, he cut down trees for a living. He made us a swing out of a big tire. He cut the tire to make a seat, with big round handles. Thick ropes held the swing to the branch. You could sit on it, or stand, hooking your feet into the handles. The swing was far enough out on a strong branch- you could stand and swing sideways and never smack into the tree. It felt a bit like a trapeze would feel, I'd imagine.
My sister's partying friends would come over and spin each other on that swing, torquing it round and around too high, and then letting go. Troy Erney got the blood vessels in his eyes broken that way, spinning around too fast. It was gross.
Every spring, our yard would flood. We'd have to wade out to the swing, and then once on, we'd fly high over the water.
I would swing and swing until I felt calmer. When I started to feel sick it would be time to get off of it.
Hours of my childhood spent swinging.
Swinging helps Riley so much.
I wish I had a swing like that for my kids.