A Second Home

The play structure is still. No movement. No motion. No life. The sand appears to be golden as sunbeams bathe the park with light. Although the sun brings warmth to the empty park, from time to time, a brisk wind slices through the air, bringing with it fierce waves of a chilling breeze. The swings—with faded chains, dull supporting beams, and worn down seats—almost convey a sense of loneliness; as they gently sway in the wind, the swings appear to be rocking themselves back and forth, as if the faint motion brings them comfort. Silent, serene, still—the small park, although tranquil, also radiates a sense of desolation.

Although many shoes have worn down the paths beside the area designated for the playground, few enter that area. As runners jog by, as dog owners stroll by, as cyclists ride by, very few even cast a glance at the play structure. With its well-used beams and bars and swings and slides and ladders and levers and poles and handles, with everything it is composed of, it seems to be reaching out. It seems to be calling out for someone to stop, for someone to notice, for someone to love, anyone to love. This is the park in my eyes when it is deserted and bare. This is the park on a cold day, a dark day, a day with little movement, or life.

With the icy winds invading its structures, kicking up sand, and rattling the swing’s chains, the playground does not appear as appealing to children than it does when the weather is a bit more pleasant. Although, this does not stop families from visiting the park or children from clambering up and down its bars and beams. Families often do choose to picnic on the bench near the play structure or to admire the enthusiasm and energy of their young children or merely to enjoy the warmth of the sun on a blue-skied day.

On days when the play structure is inhabited, it is brought to life. The playground emanates joy and happiness: sounds of bubbling laughter swirl through the air, beckoning other children to come frolic in the sand. As children come to play on the play structure, the slightly peeling paint hugging the beams, bars, and poles seems to change. The colors appear brighter, more vibrant, with a sense of bliss, almost as if there were smiles painted in the corners of the playground. Even the sign perched on the top of a small hill in front of the playground, displaying the name given to the park, appears as though it had been coated with a fresh layer of red paint. This is when the playground rejoices.

When I walk through this park and pass by the playground, I can’t help but pause as memories dance through the air around me. Memories from the days when I first started school up until the current day. Something has always drawn me to this location, to this play structure. It has never ceased to radiate peace and serenity even when I merely imagine it in my mind. Ever since I was a young child, I have felt this way, and this playground has always brought me comfort. Living so close since I was quite young, this park has taken on the role of a second home for me.

It is not only the cheerful, yellow slides or the liberating feeling of the swings that has drawn me to this playground since I was young, but it is the area surrounding the play structure as well. With a small grass field, charming trees scattered nearby, and sweet bird’s song filling the air, the atmosphere is constantly tranquil. And when I observe people passing by, playing with pets, or cherishing time with family, it brings me comfort and gives me a sense of security. It makes me feel as if I am connected to these individuals, that something brought us to this same area.

This playground at times may be a barren landscape, a deserted tundra, a desolate wasteland. Although, for me it never has and never will cease to bring a sense of comfort and welcome. From the first time I laid eyes on this playground to the moment I walked away from it today, I have adored this playground and the memories with loved ones it holds for me. As I pass by this park and its worn down bars, rusted beams, and trampled sand, it shares these memories with me, and brings a smile to my face. And I can’t resist strolling down the path that leads to the play structure, and once again sitting myself in the seat of one of the swings, detecting the well-known feel of the swing seat, clutching its cool chains in my hand, feeling the breeze toy with my hair as I swing, and reliving the memories this playground has provided me with.

--Ashley M.