Summer Stories
August 7, 2012 
Lately - they're the details I'm drawn to. The bits and pieces of ordinary life. The things that - without meaning or intention - tell stories.
A broom idly....sitting. An old chair....waiting. A pot of plants...growing.
They remind me of the moments in between. The quiet ones. The ones that would otherwise be forgotten. A comma in the middle of a sentence. The question marks at the end. The distractions. All the little things that too often are over-looked and un-noticed.
A pair of chairs - and I imagine a couple sitting quietly rocking. He - with his newspaper spread out before him. She - with her knitting. Days pass with the hours. As they sit in the silent acknowledgement and comfort of one another's presence. I imagine the life they've shared.
Or - sometimes it's an old broom. A task interrupted. In the middle of the day's chores - I imagine - the sound of the phone ringing....pulling the broom-master away from her task. The broom - simply abandoned and left. Waiting for its next turn.
There is - on occasion - a mess of potted plants. Immediately - I see the gardener. The one who seeds and waters and watches. Who patiently waits. Who knows that the prize is in the process.. Who has learned the fine art of cultivated patience. As you sow...you shall reap.
Unexpected color - and I dream up stories of the artist who dwells there. The one who paints their life in magic. Maybe - it's a dreamer who lives there. A one who sees thru rose-colored glasses. And maybe - it's a personal expression of their own creative art.
These little bits and pieces of domestic life. As I get older - there is something about these unaccounted snippets that intrigues me. These stories we tell that are without words. The things we do - that are passed from one generation to another. Without knowing that we've done so...we find that we have.
A line filled with towels drying.
Summers spent at summer camps..at summer cottages..at summer oceans. Hot days. Cool nights. Summers that were long and slow and oh-so-sweet.
My mother hung them out at the end of each day..as her mother did before her. I hung those towels of mine - because that's what I knew. When recently I visited my daughter in her new home and found that same familiar line of hanging - I understood how and why and where it came.
So - I poke and peek. I peer into the crevices and corners of ordinary lives. I imagine stories. And - all of what we take with us..and all that is left behind.
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Cross-posted over at Vision and Verb - where a group of like-minded women from all over the world share their passion for photography and the written word.
Reader Comments (43)
A real small town sight. Well done.
It is these details that mean so much. As I think about what I miss about my childhood or relatives from long ago it is these things. My great grandfather's cigar on Christmas Eve, eating breakfast on the porch at Grandma's, etc. The softness of your photo with this post just took me back to those details.
An usual sight in this day and age...beautiful!
The photo on its own is beautiful, the more so, though, by the meaning you've given it with your words. Very touching. So lovely..
It makes me wish to point my eye more consciously towards the 'crevices and corners of ordinary life' to see what joy and beauty I will find...
what a love-ly picture & memorable words to remind us of the "simpler details" of life...
As I said over at V&V....
I started thinking about what the winter stories would be like in your hands and then realized summer really is more "out there, " isn't it. Maybe that's why we love it so much because we don't feel so isolated from one another. You've given me a new way of seeing this time of the year when the bits and pieces are more visible. I love the thought of imagining the stories.
Your image reminds me of my favorite B&Ws from my family archive...one of my mom hanging dozens of diapers on the clothersline in Michigan's winter and another one showing them frozen solid to the line. A different story than summer but definitely a story!
A beautiful, expressive image accompanied by thought-provoking reflections.
New food for thought…thanks!
These simple moments and scenes we take so for granted and hardly even notice anymore.... they do indeed make for great pictures!
A nice photo! I also love what you did with it in post-production. Keep it up!
simple and nice :)
it has a home feeling
Lovely!
i think the sweetest part is how your daughter also hangs towels on the line, how the simple act is passed on. Beautiful post, Marcie.
This is so beautiful. Life is in the details, the ones we so often overlook as chores and drudgery, these are the moments we live through again and again.
I was just saying to my husband the other night that I want a clothesline! Now you have given me further impetus...
Thanks, Marcie. I'm still working on getting a clothes line at my new house. Hope it has this feeling of peace and tranquility.
This image and your words put me in a state of contentment, Marcie ~ a very good place to be!
Funny, my mom and I were just talking about hanging laundry this week. We both really miss those days!
What a beautiful piece on reminiscence! I've been taking more notice of things as well, the details. There is so much there, especially for the creative mind.
A wonderful sharing of your hearts' thoughts and feelings Marcie!
I'm touched by your words today...each one so true. Is it our age that has us looking at ordinary things and putting stories to them? I wonder! I've always done it, created stories or imaginings of what it meant when finding things left unattended, especially hold houses, but I do it much more often now.
The image is fabulous and perfect for the article...wonderful work.
xo
as i felt the gentle breeze in your post that makes the laundry line items sway, i remembered one of my own early posts about respecting those moments of pause in one's life...the front porch, laundry line times that give us a chance to sit, to stare, and to exhale with nothing on our minds but the moments lived in between. so many songwriters and poets write about "the space between." what is "ordinary" anyway?
so many of our posts focus on time in ways that we surely didn't when we had more of it.
here's to life and all the ways we get to spend the time we have left to us!
I do love this. The memories and the quiet and peace.
Your post reminds me again of my favorite line from Chekov: "Don't tell me the moon is shining. Show me the glint of light on broken glass."
You also remind me just how much I hate the regulations that prevent the enjoyment of ordinary life. I never can get over the irony of homeowners' associations that forbid hanging laundry on an outdoor line and then harangue their members over the need to "go green".
And then there's the young woman who always cut her ham into two pieces and baked it in two pans. She did it because her mother did it. One day, she asked her mother why she did it. Mother said, "Your grandmother always did it that way." Off they went to grandma, who laughed and said, "I cut it into two pieces because I never had a pan big enough to bake it whole!"
Your post resonated with me, Marcie, because our family has a long tradition of hanging up the wash on the clothes line. It used to be just a chore, but now I finding hanging up the clothes puts me in a zen state. Life is lived in the details, isn't it?
"So - I poke and peek. I peer into the crevices and corners of ordinary lives. I imagine stories. And - all of what we take with us..and all that is left behind."
Reading that felt like my insides sighing in satisfaction.
The quiet, unnoticed things, aren't they what make our days? Just as you say, they are also the memories we leave behind, the image of us that stays with those following us.
I love those little stopped moments in time, they happen to me often. They remind me of who I am today and where I came from.
Beautiful story about the stories that you create each time you press the shutter button.
Yes, Marcie, the ordinary can become quite extraordinary, as in your fine image here. And by the way, washing on a line is something that always catches my attention when I'm out and about with the camera. l just have a thing about it!
Both your photo and your words are beautiful; sentiments shared by a lot of us... I think... that love taking pictures.
Thank you, they made my morning.
Clothes lines. I still remember your wonderful series from Italy. And this image...lovely.
The most interesting and fascinating aspect of this post to me is how you seem to stop and ponder the most simple and basic parts of life -- clothes lines, a pair of chairs, a broom... My life is pretty hectic right now, but I hope I can soon take time to pause and to ponder the little things; imagine the stories families could tell. So important, I think.
Routines = freedom.
Tradition = comfort.
At times, both need shaking up, but usually...love them.
Wonder post, brings back memories of my own mother and her clothesline! Love your photo... nice and dreamy, just like summer :-)
I like the symmetry of this image, with a bit of off center interest also. Color against neutral. Interesting house details. Laundry--hanging it out is one of the tasks I enjoy.
this one makes me smile. (although i'm guessing they have a pool which makes a world of difference if we could see the entire scene) i like this, marcie.
precious...and nostalgic, a look back at things we miss i think. memories that fade until we're reminded of them. a bit melancholy...which is a word i love and think of as 'happiness tinged with longing'...
Everyday life often contains the most beauty
So true. It only takes a closer look and the mundane becomes beautiful and poignant.
Italy comes to the US!
it's good to take advantage of the extra heat summer generates.. makes for a nice shot.. :)
Beautiful - as always. And I love laundry pictures.
Marcie, such a beautiful, quiet piece. I remember my mom hanging the laundry on the clothesline, and as a little girl I would sometimes help her, handing her the clothpins, deciding which color to give her. Years later, my daughter helped me hanging the laundry, and she did exaclty the same thing, looking which color of clothpin she would give me.
I like to take a look at the ordinary of life as well. It tells so many stories.
I love this post and the photo. I can't look at something without imagining the person tied to the object or scene. People wonder why I hang on to an old table rather than replacing it with something new, while I know it was my grandparents, who I never met, but I picture them and my Dad through that table. Or actions like washing dishes or hanging up clothes make me think of my Mom and the conversations we had while doing these tasks. Walking through an antique store is almost overwhelming because of the scenes that float into my mind. I think these imaginations are a lovely thing.
'Wapperende was...' are the Dutch words ;-)