On the hill above the city,
on an afternoon all green and blue:
Picnics are spread, a tea-party laid out.
A small boy joyfully kicks
a large plush toy down the hill,
as a wedding party poses by the pavilion.
Happily discordant strains
of “happy birthday to you”
drift from a nearby teenage group,
set apart from the many little ones
who are running,
rolling,
laughing
beneath a bright flock of kites.
I took my daughter and a couple of her friends for a picnic and kite flying at the Arboretum yesterday. It was one of those perfect Canberra autumn afternoons – mild and sunny, and almost unbearably blue. The sort you want to keep preserved in glass, for later revisiting.
At least it was perfect until I decided to have a go at rolling down the hill. The kids were having a great time doing it, and who cares what other people think, right? Turns out all those other adults were smarter than me. Barely a quarter of the way down I had to stop, head spinning and almost throwing up. Sigh. Next time I will stick to flying kites.
anotherKate 
Lovely poem and prose. I hear you on the rolling down the hill! Sucks to grow up. I can’t even enjoy swinging for long anymore. Maybe it’s nature’s way of keeping Mums happy pushing their kids on swings instead of being part of the battle to “have a go”.
Hey, that makes sense! First you get a huge burst of oxytocin when they’re born so you love them (and everyone else in the room), then you get… whatever it is… that makes you want to throw up whenever you try to have a turn on the play equipment.
😃oxyspewcin or something
lol… yep!
…and I used to like the swings at the park!
well, only one way to know – do the experiment 😀
Last time I tried a swing I did feel a bit yuck after a while, but more embarrassing was that my backside got wedged in and it took a bit of a struggle to get out. They must make swings smaller than they used to be. 😀