“The Swing”
by Robert Louis Stevenson
“How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!
Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
River and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside–
Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown–
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!”
I like this poem. Only relatively recently I have learned to love it as I have watched my mother recite it for her grandchildren. In watching her recite those verses, I have seen her become a child again playfully saying them. She also, has recited another, “My Shadow”. I can hear her say “I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me…” So I wasn’t surprised when she gave them a Book of Verse by Robert Louis Stevenson.
Growing up I don’t ever remember her saying those words. How did I miss hearing and learning them when we were children? The answer to that question is not important really, but what is memorable is that she could bring delight to her grandchildren in just saying these magical words.
I hope by watching her, it brings wonder to them, as it has done to me, in watching her recite these verses from memory.
I guess we learn more and more about our parents at different stages in their lives, not just ours.
My mother with daughter #1 on a tree swing at the farm
Always a swing for every age in our back yard.
As a child, I do remember swinging in our back yard and the neighbor’s on various swing sets. I remember swinging high, flying out of the seat and then marking with a twig or stone how far I had “flown.” Our neighbors had a pump swing. It had a long seat and handle bars attached. Oh, it swung high since it was suspended from the branch of a very tall slender oak. No need to ask permission, as the neighbor kids would also, come over to climb our trees, play in our tree fort and ride bikes in our driveway that had a generous concrete apron. I spent many a morning and afternoon just swinging as high as I could pump.
When our girls were young, along came the safe, secure, not so dangerous play structures that a local department store sold. One such swing set stood in our backyard for years. And, I thought “Yes, relatively safe with all the government regulations, but how high can one really swing?” When papa rigged up this tire swing, I was so delighted the girls could swing as high as Daddy could push them.
…as high as Daddy could push
“Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
River and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside–”
There’s a certain freedom that comes with swinging, and there’s a certain comfort that comes with having a loved one behind us when we do.
Beautiful, sentimental post, Georgette. Loved the photos, too
MJ
You’re so right, MJ about the someone behind you. You just reminded me of that. Remember squealing “Push me, push me…swing me higher?” Yet when no one was there we were simply content with pumping on our own.
absolutely! We loved to compete at going higher and higher during recess; sometimes we nearly flipped over.
Sadly, I cannot swing anymore. The movement makes me feel like I’ll hurl … but I love pushing the grandkids on the swing
MJ
Oh, I’m sorry. Occasionally, I have swung at the park with grandson.
Sadly, both those trees in the photographs were taken out by a tornado. I beg Rick to put up the chair swing in the tree in the pasture, but he says the cows would wreck it. (PS We did sell off the heard last year, but Rick is leasing acreage to the neighbors for their cows to graze.)
Lovely poem and a wonderful post about the joy of the simple things – like swinging.
Robert Louis Stevenson is the best. Another level after Mother Goose, I think.
Oh my, I just visited your post today. Where else but in our blogging world can we go from your topic to Mother Goose? haha
thanks for the memories. we had several swings and hammocks in the big trees in the farm yard where i grew up. spent absolutely hours and hours on them.
Your post was such a delight to read today! My absolute favorite thing to do is swing. I’ve always had a swing in my life from the time I was very little to now with the one on my front porch and I have such fond memories of flying freely through the air on a swing. Swinging is my refuge. It’s where I do some of my very best thinking and mulling over of life. So your post warmed my heart as did the Robert Louis Stevenson poem, which for some reason I too have memorized from childhood. Lovely words, his and yours!!
I believe I recall you were enjoying your alone time on your porch swing when the bear came to visit. (wink) I didn’t even mention the swing on our patio. That’s where I sit with my coffee early in the morning then start my day. And, that’s where I had my skunk encounter last year…and now, I remember your bear…How dare they get between our swing and us! I’m glad you enjoyed today’s post.
I love watching my mother interact with her grandchildren and her great-grandchildren. It is particularly poignant and meaningful now. You are right…we think we know who our parents are but never finish learning more about them. Love this.
Now I’ll answer the question I asked in the post. My mother says in raising us four, life was a bit of a blur. Bless her, I think she was running on fumes keeping up with us, so now, it’s especially meaningful to learn something new about her. Thank you for understanding that line.
I smiled at this post, Georgette. I remember my Mom teaching me the “My Shadow” poem, and I haven’t thought of it in YEARS. We didn’t have a tire swing, but had a swing set in our yard (also for years), and a porch swing that my daddy made. Mom said they used to swing me to sleep on it many a night when I was a baby.
Thanks for bringing the memories to mind!
Funny you referred to your swing set. I seem to remember you had a post/photo of you by a car (you were going to go out in it?) and someone noticed a swing set in the background, like representing leaving your childhood behind. I don’t remember all your photos, but I do remember a commenter noticing that symbolism. (I teach Spanish literature–so I tend to remember literary techniques and references.) Glad this made some wonderful memories bubble up.
Your memory is astonishing, Georgette! I’m honored that you remembered that about my photo with all the blogs you follow!
You tell wonderful, simple stories with few words, meaningful pictures, with heart and meaning. I remember those. haha Truly I don’t remember all of them, but I do remember someone pointing out that swing set in the background as you got ready to go out as a teenager. I like it when my students can find all they can in a story.
The old tree swing is gone, but we still have a porch swing and many nights when someone can’t sleep, they’re out in porch swing, being swayed into comfort and the bliss of a forgotten time. Thanks for reminding me of a lovely memory.
I’m glad you like it. Again, I write an innocuous post; but that’s what I choose to write about, things worth remembering. As I mentioned before to another commenter, both trees, from the first and third picture are gone having been taken out by two different tornadoes. They are a memory now.
I don’t know if it happens with rope swings, too, but with chains, once you get “so” high, the chain slacks and it feels as though you’re going to fall to earth. You don’t, of course, but it always was scary in a delicious kind of way.
My favorite swing was in the basement of our house in Iowa. It was just a board seat with hemp ropes, and I couldn’t go very high, but it was a cozy place to swing in the winter. I used to swing and sing – Gogi Grant’s “The Wayward Wind”, “Lady of Spain”, “Mr. Sandman”.
“A Child’s Garden of Verses” may have been my first poetry book. I loved them all, but my very favorite was Bed in Summer . Oh, how I hated to have to go to bed when it still was light, and I could hear older kids outside playing!
Oh my goodness our parents were good. We were the kids that were in bed by the end of daylight, by 7:30 EST in summer! “In summer quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.” RLS Love it! He thought the same thoughts before we ever did.
I do remember walking home from school when it was almost dark at 4:30 EST.
Who swings in winter? That is a thought. But, swinging in your basement in winter does sound so very cozy.
How wonderful. I have a special fondness of Robert Louis Stevenson from my childhood when my sister would read us Treasure Island as often as we could talk her into it.
And, I got my first A on a book report on Kidnapped (which I wrote before finishing the book — the one and only time I did that!)
Adventure stamped you early in reading Treasure Island and Kidnapped! Didn’t you entitle a post using the names of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde…or just one? I found it interesting RLS was from Scotland and raised Presbyterian (although he rejected the latter later in life), as my mother’s family roots came from Scotland and she is Presbyterian. How interesting that she was attracted to his verses without being aware of his origin.
Cool you remember that first A. I’m sure you ultimately finished the book…right?
Elyse, I think writing a book report before finishing the book is far better, than writing one from reading a summary in SparkNotes.
Yes, I did finish the book and it is wonderful. I just hadn’t finished it in time. Probably the only time ever. I’m a voracious reader and rarely don’t finish a book. And I can proudly say I never used SparkNotes or Cliff Notes.
I love Scotland too. That’s where I got engaged!
I must thank you for waking up childhood memories I’d totally forgotten.. we had a porch swing.. my word I grew up swinging on those cushions. If I was writing a story of my life it would be one of the characters.
I also remember the poem “Bed in Summer”. I think we had to learn it at school.
Rosie, I love the idea of a swing being a protagonist! Thank you for that thought and one I hadn’t considered.
Swings are fun for kids of all ages. But safety destroys all the fun (and I know it’s different for a parent than a child, but still). I shamefully have to admit I don’t know any of Robert Louis Stevenson’s poems – I have only read his novels. I might have to look them up.
For the rebellious child he was and also, the author of “The Strange Story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde”, he wrote lovely poems for children in his “Child Garden of Verse.” “Bed in Summer”, “The Swing” and “My Shadow” are ones we have commented on, in the comments of this post. I’m sure you could relate to his “Bed in Summer” having grown up in Norway that speaks to going to bed when it’s still daylight. I’m glad this post could introduce you to this poet from Scotland dating back to the 1800′s.
You have a very loving mother who brings magic to those around her kids or adults alike. Those photos of your family having a great time by the swing reminded of how I was as a kid with my sisters and cousins. Fun, happy , innocent and care free days. My son was into it too. Swings do bring that little child in all of us.
Yes, no seat belt in the first picture. Just Grandma E’s watchful eye.
Already we are planning for Thanksgiving. For many years Rick, the girls and I hosted, but this year the vote is in. We want to go to my mother’s. And, yes, we will all help.