Hidden in the happy memories of many of us is an old tire swing, just an old worn-out tire that hung from a tree in the back yard. It was fastened to a strong, far-reaching branch and was just the right height so that when you sat in it your feet were on the ground.
We were excited when someone gave us a push. On a sunny lazy afternoon, we would crawl into it, and were just as happy slowly turning it to and fro or twisting it around. This was our private spot where we could sit and daydream.
Everyone needed a comfortable tire swing in their youth.
By Doris Stensland – February 2017