Flying lessons.
Apr. 21st, 2011 11:48 pmThere's a swingset in Central Park just a few minutes away. I'd been walking around, enjoying the sunshine and color and the baseball players and the turtles, when I got to the set and decided to spend a few minutes on it. Maybe more. I didn't keep track.
I'd called my brother to see if he would head uptown for dinner, and chatted a bit after he turned down the invitation. He suggested both taking a walk and hitting up the gym, and I agreed with that suggestion, so out the door to the park I went. Well worth it: sunny and bright, breezes just on this side of windy, all sorts of people out and about, plenty of birds, magnolia branches dropping under the weight of the flowers. There were kids playing baseball, and I saw a ten-year-old boy scratch himself in an extremely precise area, which made me laugh: he's a baseball player, all right.
I'd gone in at 90th street and walked several blocks down to get to the Turtle Pond, where I had to force myself to stay quiet - I couldn't manage it. The turtles of spring have arrived. I counted about thirty of them sunning themselves or swimming around and poking their heads out of the water. Forget robins - it's turtles that really say the weather's turned warm and the world's woken up again. All reptiles and amphibians, really; frogs, toads, newts, snakes, lizards. But mostly turtles, at least where I'm living now. See, birds can keep themselves warm all winter, but herps are pretty delicate creatures, and much more in tune with the world around them. Respect the turtles.
I was in a giddy mood when I got to the swing set. I'd forgotten it was there, and was that much more delighted thanks to the surprise. So I went on for a while. I didn't time it, so I don't know for how long, but I think at least a few solid minutes. I'd forgotten how cleansing they are, too.
It was pretty wonderful, and I kept pushing myself off the ground or throwing myself forward or back a bit to increase my momentum and go just a bit higher each time. And I shut my eyes and leaned back and just felt myself move. My stomach lurched each time the swing went as high as it could go, forward and back. So I leaned back a little bit more, and told myself, It's not something to be scared of. Just feel it. Let it. And it took a few more swings, but I stopped being scared. It's a big, heavy feeling at the apex - a little scary, and nauseating too - but wonderful, too.
I was shaking and tired when I got off, and it was worth it in the end.
I'd called my brother to see if he would head uptown for dinner, and chatted a bit after he turned down the invitation. He suggested both taking a walk and hitting up the gym, and I agreed with that suggestion, so out the door to the park I went. Well worth it: sunny and bright, breezes just on this side of windy, all sorts of people out and about, plenty of birds, magnolia branches dropping under the weight of the flowers. There were kids playing baseball, and I saw a ten-year-old boy scratch himself in an extremely precise area, which made me laugh: he's a baseball player, all right.
I'd gone in at 90th street and walked several blocks down to get to the Turtle Pond, where I had to force myself to stay quiet - I couldn't manage it. The turtles of spring have arrived. I counted about thirty of them sunning themselves or swimming around and poking their heads out of the water. Forget robins - it's turtles that really say the weather's turned warm and the world's woken up again. All reptiles and amphibians, really; frogs, toads, newts, snakes, lizards. But mostly turtles, at least where I'm living now. See, birds can keep themselves warm all winter, but herps are pretty delicate creatures, and much more in tune with the world around them. Respect the turtles.
I was in a giddy mood when I got to the swing set. I'd forgotten it was there, and was that much more delighted thanks to the surprise. So I went on for a while. I didn't time it, so I don't know for how long, but I think at least a few solid minutes. I'd forgotten how cleansing they are, too.
It was pretty wonderful, and I kept pushing myself off the ground or throwing myself forward or back a bit to increase my momentum and go just a bit higher each time. And I shut my eyes and leaned back and just felt myself move. My stomach lurched each time the swing went as high as it could go, forward and back. So I leaned back a little bit more, and told myself, It's not something to be scared of. Just feel it. Let it. And it took a few more swings, but I stopped being scared. It's a big, heavy feeling at the apex - a little scary, and nauseating too - but wonderful, too.
I was shaking and tired when I got off, and it was worth it in the end.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}