Empty clothespins. A sure sign that the rainy season down here in the South has started.
I wonder if the pins welcome this season. Would it be a relaxing vacation time or a stressful period of neglect?
One day last week, I put that question to a group of about twenty, but they remained stoic and huddled closer to each other.
Yet during a hard rain yesterday afternoon, I happened to drive past a clothesline and witnessed a remarkable sight. When rain began to sheet down, the pins slid to positions along the line and pushed up, keeping their home from being thrashed to bits by the storm’s whipping wind. I pulled to the side of the street to watch, and the pins remained at their posts until the sun shone. What a noble job. Wooden soldiers.