Swing.

A red disk. Round. Plastic.

A rope, tree, and ladder.

I watched as my uncle tied a rope to the branch of an old oak tree. He then picked me up and sat me on the round red disk. Soon I was sailing through the air.

With the wind in my hair, I threw my head back. I laughed. I played. I sang aloud. Later, when I was older, I found the courage to stand and leaned back then forward. I reached heights unimaginable. 

It was there on that swing I learned about trust. I believed. Most importantly, I dreamed.

Leaves. Blue sky. Freedom.

What memories do you have of your first SWING?