I took the dog out a moment ago, and as she was doing her business, I was kinda just kicking through the dead leaves and dirt on the ground. Among the leaves, I saw an old fragment of rope, tied in a knot around a chunk of tree branch that was so dry, it turned to dust when my foot touched it. Out of instinct, I looked up. There, on a stub of branch that had broken many, many years ago, is another knot of the same rope, dangling down a foot or so before its frayed end.
Most of the children who once swung on this rope have gone on to have children of their own, lived full lives, and I’d bet some have even died by now.