McLean Playground A Swinging Success

At one spot, a mom and her young son crouched down at a three-foot-tall yellow and blue recorder, which plays back voices along with funny sound effects.

"Happy birthday," said the mom.

"Happy birthday," it echoed back. Then it yodeled.

Such features are needed to draw in today's wired- and dialed-in kids, said Jay Beckworth, a California playground designer considered the father of the modern playground. Playgrounds these days, he said, must be multilayered and "nonlinear" to compete with multiple-level video games and the Internet.

After three trips to the park, Catie Brooks, 9, of Arlington has yet to discover the depth of its treasures.

"You can go 20 times and still not find it all," she said.

Embedded in most of the equipment are learning games involving geography, time zones, maps and clocks. There are pictures for dyslexic children and patterns for color-blind ones. The educational aspect is a leveler for children of various abilities, said Grace Fielder, a Columbia landscape architect who designed Clemyjontri.

"It allows a child who's got an incredibly sharp mind who perhaps has physical limitations to be smarter, quicker than the child who has no physical limitations."

Because of the size of the playground and the crowds, parents are watching one another's backs.

"Oh my God, it's crazy. You almost need a beeper," said Michelle Link, 34, who came with a friend, Jackie Ware, 39, and their children from Arlington.

At that moment, a tense Ware speed-walked past Link.

"All right, I'm looking for Kiersten," she snapped.

Link spun around and pointed: "She's right there."

Even when the late-fall darkness descends, the crowds stay.

At 5:20 one recent afternoon, before the carousel closed for the season, children were still lining up to ride. Looking into their hopeful faces, park employee Mark Palmer couldn't bring himself to wave them away.

As the painted horses slowed to a standstill, a father and son hurried toward them.

"Did you guys just get here?" Palmer asked. They nodded.

Into the line they went.

McLean au pair Martin Stendel showed up with two boys. "Did you get on the carousel?" Palmer asked him.

Stendel shook his head.

"Get in line," Palmer told them.

The organ music swelled up again. "I want everyone to be happy," Palmer said, steeling himself to wave away more people.

In the deepening darkness, the carousel's lights cast a faint glow, and children became dim shadows.

The parking lot was still full.