Have you ever noticed that girl in the park who swings so high it seems she might fly? Actually, she is more woman than girl. Still, she swings.  Even in winter her long blond hair flies free.  With headphones on, she notices no one.  Whether the park is full of kids or completely empty, she swings to an internal rhythm marked by a motion of her hand and a tilt of her head.  Her silhouette is unmistakable. I've glimpsed her from blocks off, swinging late into the night.

I figured she must be special, the way Aunt Lynne is special, playing her harmonica while waiting for her car to fill with gas, handing out CDs of her improv band at Christmas.  Or maybe it's not that complicated.  Maybe she's just another ordinary girl who swings because she likes it, the way other people like playing solitaire, watching TV, braiding hair.

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