Swing High

Saturday was marked by record breaking January temperatures in the 70's. As people wandered the streets lapping up ice cream cones and strolling the avenues in shorts and tanktops, I rushed to the train station bound for battery park city to meet the amazing Mr. Carpentier.

We after-all had a date with a swingset. You are never too old to plop your ass down on a rubber seat, grab hold of the chains and reach for the sky. The feeling of the air rushing against my face as we swung higher and higher, let me know that I am still alive. Sometimes, I become too bogged down in the mechanical aspects of my existence to really just enjoy the fact that my heart beats and my lungs push the air in and out. I worry too much. I fret. I overthink and overboil my blood in a firey kettle of self-induced neurotic hell-fire.

The sunset on the water was a feast for the eyes. The children laughing and playing took me back to a time when the world made so much more sense, something it lacks for me these days. I enjoyed the unseasonably warm winter's day able to forget for a moment that a chunk of the arctic ice shelf the size of 11,000 football fields broke loose and is drifting south....able to forget that the gulf stream is slowing and that Europe is bracing for the coming ice age. It's all happening faster than we think.

Sometimes, it nice to just close your eyes and feel the wind on your face and swing high.....so high we touch the sky.