guardian of the clothesline, originally uploaded by hockamama.

the warm, wet morning grass under my bare feet
the cool, damp clothes on my shoulder as they await their turn for the pins
the washin’ powder-fresh smell
starshine sniffing my legs, gently nibbling my ankles
she watches me from her place in the sun
the occasional slight breeze
the birds calling

this is why I love to hang clothes on the line. it’s therapeutic, and calming

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