Play next door

When I think about the nature of my play as a child, I immediatley think about "my park." I grew up living next door to a playground with an open field, various play structures, a gazebo, and a crumbling retaining wall that functioned as a rock gym. For me and my friends, it was our neighborhood paradise, and I was particulary possesive of it because it was practically my front and back yard. When we were toddlers, we played in the park whenever we weren't napping. Through the years, I remember entertaining ourselves with various activities in that space, including gymnastics, pretend store, rock climbing, soccer, trail blazing, flower crown making, rolling down hills, sledding, calvinball, tree climbing, and pretend pirate ship. I loved inventing complex games that started elaboretly and always fell into regular tag or hide-and-go-seek.

One year, the county decided that the playground equiptment was antiquated and unsafe (which is probably was, but that's what made it so fun!) Somehow my mom got looped into helping select the new colorful plastic forms that would replace the old metal slides and wooden structures. As a parent and nurse practitioner, she emphasized the safety angle with her selection suggestions. The first day the new playground opened, we all deemed the new equiptment dull and promptly began climbing ontop of the structures, ignoring the intended function of each piece to use it in the least safe way possible. Plastics roofs of little play huts became slides and jumping platforms. My mom was not happy, but we were.