Desert Scene
By Bertha Cragun
My neighbor, in uncaring bliss,
Will pin her clothes up hit and miss,
And wonder why I take the time
To reach perfection on the line;
With pillow cases hung in pairs,
And towels symmetrically in stairs;
White shirts together in a row,
The sizes matching as I go.
The answer? I can hardly say,
Unless – that I recall the day
I passed a windblown desert home.
It looked quite desolate – alone –
But for a line of clean-washed clothes
Hung lovingly, in long neat rows,
That, as the train whizzed quickly by,
Reached friendly banners to the sky.
(1951)
Thanks Ardis. This scene reminds me of many trips along I-50 from California to Utah.
Written before “OCD” was a thing, apparently.
I was thinking, wouldn’t everybody hang their laundry this way?
Not having a clothesline, I now have to content myself with loading the dishwasher just so.
I had a new apartment manager (the landlord’s parents) come by and see my clothesline before she knocked on my door. She told me that she liked me already and knew were were going to be great tenants.
People can scoff, but doing your best in small things translates to other behaviors.
This was beautiful.
I am not naturally neat, but I am naturally observant and careful, and over time my observance has led to greater neatness– what I have observed is that I am happier in a tidy environment.
My fastidious grandmother had a clothesline with four or five cords. She carefully hung sheets and towels on the outer lines to modestly shield her undergarments which were hung on the inner lines.