'Play Freely at Your Own Risk' - The Atlantic:
At one point, I looked up at the trees. I was astonished to see that
there were children in them. The more I looked, the more children I saw.
There were children 15 feet high in the air. There were children
perched on tiny homemade wooden platforms, like circus ladies dressed in
glittery clothes about to swan-dive into little buckets. There were
children sitting up there, relaxed, in their navy blue sailor-type
school uniforms, chatting and eating candy on bitty rectangles of
rickety wood as if they were lounging on the Lido deck of The Love Boat.
There were children, preteens, crouching 15 feet up on the roof of the
playpark hut and then—I gasped to see this—leaping off it onto a pile of
ancient mattresses.
King and I sat on a log, eating warm, white gooey marshmallows. The
park was around us, and the trees were around us, and the dirt was
around us, and the smoke, and the music. The children were in the trees,
and were flying in the air.
We stayed there as long as we could.