Rising Sun

4 08 2008

The first night after Stan left, I didn’t sleep very well. Just sort of restless all night, then I woke up really early (you know, like SIX. Early). Anyway, I tossed around in bed for awhile longer until deciding to see if I could get some shots of the sunrise. I was a little too late for the sunrise proper, but I still took a few pictures. The light is different in the early morning.


4 08 2008

It’s funny–now that I’m older, some of the things I miss I never would have thought I would miss back when I was younger. (I also thought I’d be able to write a coherent sentence when I became an adult. Sometimes, a person is simply wrong about these things.)

Last week, I got to hang our clothes on the line. I used to hate it when my mom dried our clothes and towels on the line. The towels were like cardboard, and my jeans would almost stand up alone. I guess it just takes a little maturity to appreciate the smell of clothes dried on the line; to love that first super absorbent and exfoliating rub down with a stiff towel; to enjoy the way your clothes start out a little crunchy but immediately soften up to your body; and don’t get me started on how wonderful truly crisp sheets are when you slide between them on a hot summer’s night.

Not only do I love the result of drying clothes on the line, I really enjoyed the process. There was something satisfying about snapping and stretching and pinning–and being alone, outside in my parents’ lovely yard, with time to think. Before I rhapsodize overlong on how wonderful clothes dried on the line are, I just want you to realize–I had so much fun I took pictures.

Of my laundry.