Tuesday, 19 February 2013

Washing Line

Spring - not yet arrived - is on its way. Striped blinds reveal morning light and black outside lamps need not be lit for those returning from work.

Our garden is small, a courtyard of stone walls. A length of line where washing may be hung on dry, bright days. But come October we lose the light, beyond the pitch of a roof and surrounding woods which filter the sun.

Relief then, for spring to come. To unload washing and hang it up. 

In the breeze and below bright skies. So I may open windows and reclaim the house. From pants and socks and cotton blouse.

And when warm enough, sit out. Sunhats and a woven mat - a garden of pebbles and not of grass.

And a bluebell wood, by our home. Where I tell my boy that fairies go. The ruins of a walled garden and a grassy slope.

And the mountains of an island, glimpsed on tip-toe. Wooden gates and race you home.

With a girl too young last year to know. Come spring the first one out the door... x


  1. So much to look forward to, with the hope of Spring and Summer coming. I long to be able to put the washing out to dry - it is such a simple pleasure. Your life sounds idyllic. Enjoy your little ones.

    1. Oh I love to get the washing out too! Except for when it promptly starts raining...

  2. Sounds lovely where you live - blue bell woods!!!

    1. Thank you - it is, we are very lucky. We would stay here forever if it wasn't for the fact that my daughter's room is the approximate size of a linen cupboard...


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