When I was younger I remember occasionally hanging clothes out on the line to dry. All of my adult life I have used a dryer. Having moved to a country where dryers are rare and really not necessary since the sun is out and the air is dry for most of the year I have found a new-found appreciation of laundry. Now don;t get me wrong, I still have a PILE of laundry waiting to be done and a PILE of laundry waiting to be folded and put away but there is something about the roof in the morning with the mountains to one side and the dusty hills on the other, the blare of the construction workers radio and the noise of th city traffic below or the bright stars above and the lights creeping up the hillsides where communities are taking shape on the slopes of the mountains coupled with the rhythm of pinning up or taking down the day”s laundry, something grounding, something sacred. Many spiritual writers have extolled the virtues of daily chores as catalyst for the spiritual life, I have always had a hard time finding the same virtues until now. Maybe it is because there is a newness in this rhythm.