This past weekend, Red, Bee and I traveled to the small town where I spent my teen years for a very special birthday. Before coming home, we stopped by to visit with my friend, Sue, at her farm. The girls had a ball playing with the dogs, chasing kitties and just enjoying the peace and quiet of the country.
One of the things that is not allowed in most subdivisions of the suburbs are clotheslines. I remember as a child visiting Missouri from our home in California; how I used to think they were so old-fashioned and it meant that people didn't have the luxury of an indoor washer and dryer. Now, when I see clothes on a line, I'm still reminded of that err in my thinking as a child, along with a simpler time and way of life. In the Midwest, you truly know spring has sprung when you take a drive just a bit out of the city and see clothes on a line. It always reminds me to slow down and enjoy some of the most basic things in life, like fresh air and sunshine. As a suburban dweller, I always wish that I could have one of those magical lines, so that my sheets would smell like those my great-grandmother used to put on the old antique bed she had on her sleeping porch. I loved to sleep on that porch. For me, that was as close to camping as I ever needed to be. It was heaven on Earth laying there with a cool breeze blowing over me listening to the sounds of spring as they faded into summer.
This shot was taken at sunset which gave me some great sun flares (I especially love the large red one over the grass). To add some interest and make it feel a bit more vintage (like my childhood), I did a bit of post-processing and texture.