How the Summer Wash Deserts Us

Fall arrives and the summer wash prepares for its annual migration. Bathing suits, towels, light dresses, and shirts unhook themselves from clotheslines. They become agitated like birds. And rebellious, deciding where and when they’ll be hung. From the trees near the beach, it turns out. You can catch them but it’s a wasted effort.

Because when the rains come, the wash heads north for the frozen shores of Labrador. That’s something to watch – shirts flapping towards the far horizon, dresses gliding alongside.

But wait! Their departure signals the return of the wash from Ecuador. We’d forgotten about that, about the pink and yellow socks that will soon be wintering on our lines, their cheerfulness hauling us through another dark season.