Sad rope swing

Went for a long walk to cure antsiness, and to procrastinate cleaning house and folding laundry. Only three days before Christmas, and it is seventy-seven degrees! Returning to our complex, I decided to walk along the creek. "Our" creek is two blocks long, and the city calls this tiny wilderness "Rustic Park". Thought I would walk along to the place where a rope swing hangs from a tall tree over the creek.

We moved to this condo complex nearly seven years ago now. We moved out of the house where we had lived as an alleged two-parent family for seven years--the only house Steven remembered. When the boys discovered the rope swing, that spot along the creek became Steven's emotional tether to our new place. Snakes and a horrible bout with poison ivy did not dissuade him. Swinging on the rope helped all of us reconstruct our ideas of what made a family and a home.

With all the fall leaves gone, the creek looked sad today, especially around the roots of the rope tree. The most obvious eyesores were the plastic bags--EVERYWHERE. Styrofoam, bottles, cans, ropes, wires, a smashed grocery cart, motor oil jugs, small rugs and a garden hose for crying out loud... I found a large Sunkist produce box and decided it was a sign to fill it up before heading home. That amount of effort did not make the rope swing inviting for any new family making a stressful transition! Next time I'll wear gloves, take clippers, and bigger boxes. I'll listen for the woodpeckers I know are there. I'll celebrate how far we've come as a family, and honor a place that helped us along. I'll probably get a bit teary next time, too.