WARNING: Don't try this at home.
My neighbor Ella is 6 years old. She's my hero.
Risk. Or maybe RISK. Or RISK!!!!!!!! Ella's an expert and I am the neophyte.
"Aren't you afraid?" I ask her.
She gives me that universal look all 6 year olds have. "Yes." She giggles.
"You do it anyway?" I persist.
"Yes." She giggles even louder, leans back and sticks her tongue out and wriggles it.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"The wind." She says. "I'm tasting the wind."
"What does it taste like? Ice Cream?" I ask.
"No. No. No." She shuts her eyes, shakes her head and laps like she's a kitten. "Like wind." She says this as if I am the silly one. I, who am on the ground watching her entwined in the rigging.
"What if you fall?" This question provokes the most laughter.
"I get wet." She says. "I get wet, silly." She rolls her eyes at me. I can't really see this, as she is too high up in the ratlines, but I can tell by her tone this is what she's doing.
I'm taking a page out of Ella's book, so to speak. I will not fail for want of trying. For want of taking risks.
The air is choked full of writerly inner dialog.
So Ella comes down and plays on the lines scampering up and down like a human crab.
She does fall in.
Falls backwards with her eyes to the heavens.
Falls in with a giant splash.
Comes to the surface.