Clotheslines are iconic, even if anachronistic. They are beautiful to us, a form of household art, they capture and reflect the light in a particular way. In many places – gated communities, rich enclaves – clotheslines are either banned or frowned upon, a symbol of the poor, often associated with slums and tenements.
It is true of clotheslines that clothes hung on them smell fresh and clean in a very particular way. Here on the farm, we wee our clothesline as a type of natural artwork, a colorful and timeless evocation of simpler times and family.
We have a clothes washer and dryer and we use them, but it softens the spirit to see clothes hanging on the line, an aesthetic reflection of our lives.
I love your clothesline art and words. I grew up in the country with clothes lines full of clean, fresh-smelling clothes drying in the sun and dancing in the wind. I missed it so much years later when I married and moved to the city. I’m old and widowed now with no place for a clothes line, but I still miss it. Your blog brought back such happy memories. Your blogs about the Mansion residents warm my heart too, very much.
I love hanging me laundry out to dry. There are many benefits: the fresh scent of air dried clothes, the sight and sound of snapping in the wind or their gentle sway in a soft breeze, the knowledge that I am reducing my carbon footprint, and a feeling of peace and contentment when I stop to admire.