Canyon Swing

I peered off of the teetering platform

And took in the sights

I was standing 300 feet above a roaring river

Wearing a full body harness of blue and red.

By squinting,

I could just make out the terrified face of my mother.

She was at least 100 yards away,

But a mother’s fear is always present in a child’s mind.

Breathing as though a cinder block rested on my chest.

My heart was not the steady beating of a bass drum,

But the frenzied roll on a snare.

I was convinced the sound was audible to every person in New Zealand.

The air tingled with electricity

Like the way it does just before a violent lightning storm.

This was not the energy of the ozone however,

But that of the unspoken excitement of everyone on the platform.

There were four of us waiting

And while I was feeling courageous

I was not brave enough to go first.

It was my turn soon enough though.

My confidence was built up

And as I stepped to the ledge

All traces of fear had left me.

Leaning back over that edge however

Brought immediate feelings of doubt.

I found it hard to concentrate on my guide’s instructions.

Not only because I was preparing myself,

But because he was asking me about my reflexes

And was starting a lot of statements with “Just in case…”

After a lifetime of questioning and joking

It was time to do what I’d come to do.

Jump.

With a deep breath,

I took one step backward,

Bent my legs as though I was about to take a shot from halfcourt in a basketball game,

And sprang off of the platform.

For one belly-dropping instant,

I was plummeting through space.

Unable to even scream because my heart was stuck in my throat.

When the cable I was attached to had extended to its full length,

I swung out over the canyon

Giving me an opportunity to absorb the beauty of the location.

I was drawn back up to the platform

And the first words out of my mouth were,

“Can I go again?”