Hanging Out

It's weird, but one of the things I look forward to doing when I visit my parents is the laundry. I know. When you signed on for reading a travel blog of Australia you were hoping for something a little more exciting than household chores. But it's true. It's because here we hang the laundry out on a line.

I can't quite capture it in words. Of course it depends on the day, but generally the sun is warm and pleasant. The air is a glorious mix of fresh, country air, clean laundry and a faint hint of eucalyptus from the beautiful gum trees. There is a fig tree right beside the house. The view is of the rolling Adelaide hills. A cow might walk by in the neighbouring paddock. The clincher though is the cacophony of Aussie birdsong. The tweeting, cawing, warbling, chirping, laughing, twittering calls all mingle together to create a serenade I've only ever heard in this country. It's like nowhere else. To say it soothes my suburban soul is an understatement.

And then, when it's all hung out, there is the satisfaction of standing back and looking at this testimony to the fact that my family is here, on my parents' farm. I know it's silly. But seeing my family's clothing, from Sarah's little socks all the way up to hubby's Tshirts hanging there, blowing in the eucalyptus tinged air with the hills as backdrop, it's just... good.



It's really good.

It's going to be hard to leave.