Grandmom’s glider could surely keep the family secrets.  How loyal it was to the family.  It never rusted and never stopped gliding.  We kids would sit out on the porch to eavesdrop on the grownup conversation.  You could hear them talking over the big fan that was blowing in the window and we would sit awaiting the juicy news.  Then someone would start gliding.  Gliding faster and faster.  You never noticed when it started to slow down.  We all have a different opinion.  It happened somewhere near the time when the rickety fan started its lullaby and the fragrances of honeysuckles and hydrangeas would fill the air.  Somehow the gossip never filtered through.  Childlike innocence was preserved for the glider never told the secrets.  It kept us safe and secure from the scarring of growing up too fast.  Until the grownup talks were silenced and we had the best summertime naps on grandmom’s porch.

We should have kept that glider for the new generation to keep them safe from all the stimulation and over sensory practices they are experiencing.  Oh well, it would not have mattered anyway, they don’t go outside anymore.

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/fragrance/”>Fragrance</a&gt;