Get the clothes off. you feel that air? the wind is pickin' up and
our school socks
are strewn all over the yard.
it smells like rain and the ragged sheets have been out all day.
hurry up. bring 'em in before the storm comes.
Growing up, my grandmother had a clothesline in her backyard, crossing right in front of her garden. The wash house sat just left of the line, and the barbed wire ran parallel to the rows of collard greens. My favorite thing to do was hang freshly washed sheets and watch them sway. A gentle push of the wind, for a few hours, made them just crisp enough. And they smelled like outside! In childhood, it's easy to find joy. For me, most of my childhood memories are in the front yard and backyard of my grandmothers' houses. The clothesline was one of my joys.
Adulthood can make us harsh, We no longer respond with innocence to simplicity. We mock it and believe "busy" means success. When I conjure up this memory of clotheslines, I am immediately taken back to age seven. My sister and brother are there, our knees are dirty from playing in the mud, and my granny keeps having to shoo us away from where the line hung. All we want to do is run through the sheets with dirty knees! :)
And I can breathe, slow down. Even for just a moment. Because clotheslines take me there. I remember that my soul thrives on simplicity, on what I value.
What simple memory takes you there? I'd love to read your responses.