The Swing
by Robert Louis Stevenson
How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!
Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
Rivers and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside—
Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown—
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!
As a child, one of my favorite poems was Robert Louis Stevenson’s “The Swing.” I read that poem until I had it memorized. Reciting it made me feel as if I were swinging in that very moment. I’ve always loved the rhythm and freedom of swinging. Even as an adult, I find time to swing whenever I get a chance. So, when we encountered an “urban swing” on our recent trip to Portugal, I knew I had to take my turn flying out over the beachside town of Nazaré.
We hadn’t set out to find a swing. Instead, we were on our way up the steep stairs to the iconic clifftop point above the world’s largest waves. In 2011, Nazaré became famous when Garrett McNamara surfed a 70-foot wave, the biggest ever surfed at the time. In 2020, Sebastian Steudtner set a new world record, surfing an 86-foot wave in the now famous Nazaré. Although I’m not a surfer, I knew I had to see this amazing big wave paradise. As a native Floridian, I’ve always been drawn to the sea. Even just sitting on the beach, the power of the waves washes through my senses like an immersive meditation experience. I watch their mesmerizing folding, smell and feel the salty air, and hear their crashing breaks against the shore. Even when the water is too cold for wading (as it was in Nazaré), I can almost taste gritty, sandy salt on my lips.
We began our short trek from the town at Nazaré beach to the top of the cliff that overlooks the beach with the big waves. We expected lots of stairs, hot sun, and lots of resting stops. We didn’t expect a swing. But then, there it was, the Baloico de Ladeira swing. Even if I hadn’t needed a break from the steep ascent, I would have stopped and waited for my turn. When the family ahead of us finally finished their turns, I walked out on the hot sand, sat on the wooden seat, and wrapped my hands around the ropes on either side. Before pushing off, I sat still, taking in the sparkling blue water, white-sand beach, and red-tiled roofs at my feet.
And then, liftoff. My sandaled feet cleared the edge, and I soared above the vibrant colors below. As I flew, the first lines of The Swing floated through my brain. How do you like to go up in a swing? Up in the air so blue? I smiled at the perfection of the moment.
Soon, a line formed for a turn on the swing, and I relinquished my place on the wooden seat. As we returned to the path up the hill, a woman older than me clambered onto the swing. Although I never saw her swinging, a giddy laugh told me she’d pushed off. Like a child, she couldn’t help herself. We heard her whooping and laughing until we rounded the next bend. Adults turned to children. That’s the gift of the swing. Even in the middle of a long, hot trek, we could take a break to wonder at the immense beauty of our surroundings, let go of our cares, and fly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eventually, we made it to the top.
Despite strong winds, I stopped to peer over a viewpoint.
And then I pushed through the wind on a trail toward the end of the cliff.
At the end of the trail, I stood at the point, marveling at the power of the ocean and the unique hydrology that creates some of the world’s largest waves.
To my left, Nazaré canyon lay deep below the water, surfacing as the sandy beach.
To my right, I saw the deserted north beach. Although the season wasn’t right for the giant waves, the tumultuous sea hinted at the powerful forces that would create those waves once again in a few short months.