My spine still tingles at the thought...

I take a deep breath.

I cautiously lean forward, holding fast to the thick vine, and peer down the sharp 40 ft drop to the bottom of the gully.

Looking down was a bad idea - I screw my eyes shut and clutch the vine a little tighter, feeling its rough bark rub harshly against my sweaty palms.

The dry leaves crackle under my feet, and behind me I hear noises of encouragement and a couple of amused taunts from the younger crew, (because it's taking me quite a while to get up my nerve.)

I could turn away. I could let the vine go. I don't have to do this.

"How many times have y'all done this?" I holler to the group behind me.

"Tons! Even Dad has swung on it!" Mary yells back. She's brave. Me? Not so much when it comes to possibly plunging 40 feet to a very painful death.

I almost let it go. Back away. Laugh at my cowardice and move on to other adventures. There's always adventure to be had around this house.

But he's back there.

I like him a lot.

My ten year old self wants to impress him.

So I grit my teeth, close my eyes so tight I see purple and red stars, and swing out. And out. And out. I hear the vine crackling, I feel how tense my arms are as I hold on.

This is it. I'm about to die. Poor Mama. I'm gonna fall; it's gonna break; it's gonna break...

My legs kick - at nothing. Just pure air. I want to scream, but it's stuck in my throat. More air, more air, then oh, the blessed ground! Mary's hand helping me up the incline, back to the yard.

I'm alive. I didn't die. I didn't back down. He watched me. Was he impressed?

Suddenly, I realize I want to do it again.

So, I do. And I keep my eyes open this time. It's amazingly fun now that I've moved past my initial terror, but I screech [loudly] nonetheless, because I'm a girl and that's just what girls do best in such situations. There's still a tantalizing possibility of falling, just enough to make it extra-fun, but it's a small possibility now.

I've done it. I know.







I remembered this vine swing today, and I missed it. It finally snapped a few years back, after being used and abused by countless children, countless times.

That first time, that first swing into the unknown, will always stay vividly in my mind, not just because I was stupid enough to risk life and limb for the approval of a 12 year old crush, but because it made me feel brave. Undefeatable. (Albeit a wee bit shaky on my feet for the first few minutes back on land.)

I liked that feeling. Still do, only I really never feel it anymore. Which, I suppose, is why this particular memory is so wonderful.