Second Star to the Right

We love the park.  The girls would be happy if everyday I simply packed them in the stroller and took them to the playground.  Gloom or shine. All. Day. Every. Day.  And they would slide and chase and climb.  But most of all they would swing.  They are expert swingers, those two.  Sugar Blue is never ready to get out.  You can see her savoring the flavor of the air on her cheeks, ingesting it like honey and letting it amplify all that is sweet.  She lounges and smiles.  Takes advantage of the opportunity to see the world upside down.  Giggles and shines.  And always wishes for more.   
And Curly.  Curly, Curly, Curly Sue.  She has mastered the art of swinging.  She extracts every ounce of fun there is to be had in two chains and a plastic seat.  She's an expert at the twist and spin, underdogs and superman style.  But her specialty is the classic set up, back straight, face lit.  Pumping her legs or coasting, floating.  She flies, lets the breeze swirl her curls like a mane around her face.  The motion seems to lift her to a secret place, a Never Never Land tailored uniquely to her.  She packs the rhythm in her pockets like pixie dust, saves it for later.  I think swinging is her happy thought.
I introduced her to the spider strategy not long ago.  I slid between the chain links and lifted her on my lap.  Then four legs pumped, two shorter, two longer.  A gleeful squeal escaped Louise as we swung like a pendulum, gently gaining altitude with each bend in our joints.  Wind kissed my cheekbones, whispered in my ear and I looked at my first little girl, already far past the second star to the right and circling the mermaid lagoon.  I was transported, Wendy led by Peter Pan's perfect charm.  The moment passed, warm and slow as amber syrup from a pitcher.  Lately, that's my happy thought.