Clotheslines, clothes pins, and deep thoughts

If it had been raining this morning I would have hung my clothes on the wooden racks and clotheslines in the basement. But it wasn’t. While pouring my first cup of coffee I noticed it seemed a perfect drying day. Sunny.

Shortly thereafter I took my newly-washed, damp clothes out the back door and reached for a bag of wooden pins hanging on the closest of two lines that stretch across the deck. Wet T-shirt in one hand, two pins in the other and one in my mouth, I started to hang up my wash. My mind wandered, followed familiar paths, moved sideways on occasion.

Hanging the wash immediately connected me more closely to my natural surroundings. Though standing in the shade of the house and a maple tree, I knew the sun would soon be bathing my T-shirts, hockey equipment and underwear - the ones in the basket - in warmth and light. A light breeze brushed the back of my neck. Sparrows chattered in the branches above and, based on some kind of pecking order, organized their forays onto my bird feeders. My gosh, I thought, my shin pads sure smell better.


I hung underwear on the line farthest from a neighbour’s back window and door. If they peeked or walked out back they would only see a line of assorted shirts, socks and one shin pad. They wouldn’t wonder, first thing in the morning, why Gord owns only black or gray unmentionables. My mother would have been proud.


["For sure, I'm a pin-up guy!": photos GH]

With all laundry on the lines, I stepped onto the wet, cool grass and spread birdseed onto a bench and porch roof of a birdhouse.

More sparrows chattered. Two sat upon the rain gutters admiring my wash. The sun rose slowly over the roof behind them.

***

I love a slow start to the day and how nature awakens the senses.

And a second cup of coffee ain’t bad either!

Please click here for thoughts about a recent ‘great find.’

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