Now that spring seems here to stay, we’ve been going to the playground most afternoons to work out the post-nap wiggles before dinner. Alden, ever the keen observer, has worked out a system for playground classification, labeling the playground by the color of its slides. Surprisingly, the slides for the playgrounds within our general vicinity are all different colors: green for Church Hill, yellow for Worton, and blue for Chestertown. And then there is the Tuckahoe Tire Park, known only as the “tire park.” I guess the tires are a more distinguishing factor than the slides.

The tires are large, and there are a lot of them.

We went to the tire park the other day, but found it too soggy on account of the recent rains. Disappointed, we drove back home. On the way, I saw something out of the corner of my eye, something remarkable and previously unknown to me: the brown playground.

How many times have I driven past the brown playground of Church Hill Elementary without noticing its majesty? We go to the other playground in Church Hill all the time (the green one at the park), but the brown playground offers delights not available at playgrounds green, yellow, and blue.

Tunnels, for example.

With holes for peeking through.

And large colorful maps.

And chain/ladder climbing things.

And a truly tall, steep, and terrifying slide.

I was surprised when Kato climbed all the way up to the top. Given the aforementioned tallness and steepness, I was absolutely certain he would not decide to slide down.

I was so surprised when he did, in fact, choose to slide down that I took this photo as I lunged to save him from a horrible crash.

And yet, he arrived at the bottom unscathed, chided me for being such a worrywart, and proceeded to climb up—and then slide down—again.

Headfirst, I might add. I’m not sure where he acquired his sense of daring. Certainly not from me.

The only aspect of the brown playground that I find lacking is this odd slide.

Cruel and unsatisfying, it seems to have been designed by Salvador Dali, which is all well and good, except that children do not play in the realm of the surreal.

Or maybe they do. Before we left, Kato wandered off to Alaska—perhaps to get an early start on the fishing? The rest of us are heading up at the end of June.

In any case, consider this my ringing endorsement of the brown playground.