Again, I find myself guilty of playing with tones (specifically, split ones) and imitating old film stock I remember. It's this whole artistic license business that strikes my fancy sometimes. This? Just a tire swing in Glover, Vermont. But, it spoke to me, told a story, just hanging out there. It's childhood; it harkens back to, for too many kids, a now-lost era of simple play. It's also memories of other tire swings, ones near water that always resulted in laughs and belly-flop sunburns. What's it say to you?
Larger version here: A Swing in Time Saves Lives