There’s a swing in my garden that I’ve had for years. Last year the branch it was hanging from fell down in a storm. We only got round to putting it up again (the swing, not the branch) a little while ago.
It’s strung up in a way that you can face any direction you want if your feet are touching the ground.
Recently I’ve noticed it doesn’t face forward. When no one is sitting there, it angles itself in a direction where you can pretty much see the whole garden.
I’m starting to wonder if there’s a ghost girl that likes to sit there. Maybe it’s even my younger self?
It could just be the way the tree is growing, but the ghost idea is much better.
When I was younger, I thought the word “simile” was pronounced “sih-mile”, and when you think about it that’s definitely how it should we should say it. I mean, “sih-mih-lee” – daft!!
Hah, anyway. The swing is my favourite place in the garden. Nothing like sitting in a swing and watching the world go by. It also hangs from our walnut tree, which is special for me. Since my cat died, I realised that the leaves come out on almost the exact day he died. I like to think his spirit lives on in that tree.
Three years on, I’m in the process of making a tribute to him, planting flowers around the foot of the tree. The flowers in this post are my favourite. Like balls of fire, symbolising my wonderful furball in a way not much else can.
Ciao!! ^ ^ ❤ 🙂