Living in a rural area of Maryland I still see the sights I would have seen growing up. Farms, with their
animals walking about in the pasture. Long dirt drives leading up to the house. Old cars and pick up trucks. Older homes with their various architectural styles sitting side by side. And of course the " new " places. Can't be more than ten years old or so.
The other day, as I was driving, I looked across a field and there, in the backyard of a farm house, was strung the clothesline. A slight breeze was waving those faded jeans,tee shirts and linens. The clothesline danced up and down and I was instantly reminded of home. I could hear my mother saying, I'm going to the clothes yard if you need me. When I got home I asked my wife if she had had a clothes yard when she was growing up. She had not heard that term used before. I wondered if it was an expression unique to the area where I grew up. A colloquial expression ? Mom used clothes poles too, to prop up the clothesline so the laundry didn't hit the ground. Most of the time they were just old tree limbs or a used piece of lumber.
Seeing that laundry hung out to dry was a small gift. I traveled home for a brief second or too. A singular moment in time captured in a vision. I wished I had had a camera with me. It would have made a wonderful picture. It is early in the year and the trees are still bare. The grass has not greened up yet. Those clothes on that line were in stark contrast to the horizon, or to the far gone past, to speak metaphorically. An everyday thing to the person who hung them, a pleasant memory for me. Call it luck,chance or fate but these little gifts arrive. All we need do is be aware and enjoy them. That is the purpose of memory. To enjoy what once was
and refresh us. Memory should bring comfort. All things must pass before our eyes in order to be seen.
animals walking about in the pasture. Long dirt drives leading up to the house. Old cars and pick up trucks. Older homes with their various architectural styles sitting side by side. And of course the " new " places. Can't be more than ten years old or so.
The other day, as I was driving, I looked across a field and there, in the backyard of a farm house, was strung the clothesline. A slight breeze was waving those faded jeans,tee shirts and linens. The clothesline danced up and down and I was instantly reminded of home. I could hear my mother saying, I'm going to the clothes yard if you need me. When I got home I asked my wife if she had had a clothes yard when she was growing up. She had not heard that term used before. I wondered if it was an expression unique to the area where I grew up. A colloquial expression ? Mom used clothes poles too, to prop up the clothesline so the laundry didn't hit the ground. Most of the time they were just old tree limbs or a used piece of lumber.
Seeing that laundry hung out to dry was a small gift. I traveled home for a brief second or too. A singular moment in time captured in a vision. I wished I had had a camera with me. It would have made a wonderful picture. It is early in the year and the trees are still bare. The grass has not greened up yet. Those clothes on that line were in stark contrast to the horizon, or to the far gone past, to speak metaphorically. An everyday thing to the person who hung them, a pleasant memory for me. Call it luck,chance or fate but these little gifts arrive. All we need do is be aware and enjoy them. That is the purpose of memory. To enjoy what once was
and refresh us. Memory should bring comfort. All things must pass before our eyes in order to be seen.
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