There is nothing better to me than the smell of laundry
fresh off the clothesline.  I
believe in the cleansing power of the sun.  Once the days begin to lengthen and time grows more
abundant, I love to take a wicker basket full of wet clothes, snap each piece
free of wrinkles, and pin it to the clothesline in the backyard. 

I remember my mother’s clothesline back home and how she
sent me out every time the storm clouds began to gather and the first few drops
of rain began to dot the wood planks across the porch to get the clothes off
the line.  There was always a mad
dash out the screen door and race to unclip each wooden pin and stuff the
stiffened towels and blue jeans into a crumpled pile in the basket before
running as fast as my bare feet could carry me to the safety of the front
porch.  Clothes from the
clothesline have one of those wonderful summertime smells, like fresh cut grass
or honeysuckle heavy on the vine.

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