My backyard is large and given to much activity. I have two swing sets. One is very tall, large with heavy, black tire seats. It is out in the open and the snow level often reaches the bottom of the seats. The tires are still and stay in place. The other set is the variety you see advertized in spring and summer flyers from your local stores. Small, a couple of seats, a glider and a slide attached to one side. This one is somewhat sheltered by a large pine tree and some fruit trees, so the snow generally doesn't get quite so deep.
When we have a winter wind the small seats move back and forth. I know they are wishing for the return of those laughing children, for the pleas of "push me more," "higher." Lonely, a word that fits the feeling with the gentle empty movement. This set is bereft of the life it enjoys in the warmer months, but it is willing to wait. There is no choice. Winter birds, chickadees, sparrows may perch on the frame of the set, a squirrel might streak across the top on its way to a pine cone from the sheltering tree. The magpies in residence in the pine tree often put on a show. But still the set says empty.
After a time the snow level decreases, the dry grass beneath shows through, and children arrive. The laughter begins again. It isn't just a gently moving, it is pumping, back and forth, so much that the whole set threatens to tip. But there is action, life, wonderful.
Life brings people many situations that are similar. Loneliness may be one of them. Distress that seems insurmountable. There is the time of waiting, hoping for change for the better. Waiting can be very difficult. But there are moments that ease the waiting, just as the chickadees and sparrows break up the bleak winter days. The magpies are always nearby, supporting all year round, even if they are unable to sit and swing.
I am not sure why I have felt the need to write about the backyard swing, but it has been pushing me, perhaps it is giving me a lesson in patience. Or acceptance of change, dealing with things over which I have no control. My human magpies, friends to help... Or....I just know there are many lessons to be learned yet in my life.
