Laos Village Swing at Sunrise
5:45 AM. The sleeping bag didn’t want to let me get out. But sunrise called for ambition. A chance to take a pretty picture. I’m glad I did.
In northern Laos the Akha people we work with make some wonderful swings. We did not get a chance to see them in action, but I can imagine the swinging. I used to swing our kids, pushing them higher and higher, telling them they were going to the moon.
I don’t know exactly why, but the Akha village swing connected me to the memory of Robert Frost’s poem, Birches.
When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy’s been swinging them.
But swinging doesn’t bend them down to stay. Ice-storms do that.…..
The “lakes” of clouds in mountain valleys at sunrise are awesome.