I hung a load of laundry on the line today.
Nothing earth-shattering about that, I realize. But there was something so satisfying about it. Spring is here. OK, this IS northern Illinois, so Spring will come and go in waves of hot and cold. It was in the 60s today, and sunny. There are buds on the honeysuckle and crocuses flowering and even some brave broccoli attempting to regrow. It's supposed to snow this weekend, and I'm sure there will be a few more days of cold and ice and frozen dog poo. But somehow the hanging on the line of that load of clothes signified something important to me. It was like letting out a breath I had been holding all winter long, without knowing it. It was such a normal, everyday warm weather thing to do, and in doing it I knew I would have to do it again. And again. And that means, my friends, that winter can't last forever.
I know alot of people hang their clothes out. I know people have been doing it for centuries, out of necessity. I do it to save a few bucks, to conserve some energy, and for the pure pleasure of the task and its results. Laundry from the line is different - feels different, smells different. Even the kids recognize this. But I only do it in nice weather. I don't like frozen underpants. And by doing it today, it was a recognition that nice weather is here. That nice weather will stay. That the sun will shine and the breeze will blow and the shirts will dry and that maybe it will snow this weekend but the pants and nightgowns and t-shirts will be back out there soon.
So I feel good. I feel better than I have in months. And I owe it (almost all) to the sight of underwear flapping in the breeze. Happy (almost) Spring.