Jimmy, a freckled boy with a perpetually scraped knee, bounced on the balls of his feet. "Come on, Mark! We're gonna miss all the good swings!"
Mark, lanky and bespectacled, fiddled with his worn backpack. "Hold your horses, Jimmy. I gotta make sure I have enough batteries for my camera. You never know what we might see."
They were headed to Sunny Meadow Park, a veritable paradise of slides, seesaws, and, most importantly, swings. The sun was shining, birds were singing, and the air smelled