Tucked away in the corner of a beautiful landscaped haven of greenery, the city swings were swaying gently in the breeze as if being ridden by playful ghostly figures.
 
Memories of a 10 year old Northern tomboy leaving her 2 year old kid brother sat on a grassy knoll close to a row of local swings found its way to the surface. Forgotten for a split second in the middle of playing a game of chase and searching for ball bearings on the nearby disused train track…
 
Too large to fit, we used to stand with each foot astride the top of the swing, body towering high above the square seat. Clasping hands tightly on each supporting chain and with great gusto we’d swing back & forth until we’d reach the optimum height. Then, without safety nets, we’d let go & fly into the abyss between sky & knee grazing asphalt.

London SE13 / ©2013