A little miracle

A little miracle has occurred for the first time this year.

I have hung wet clothes on the line and they have dried...in an afternoon.

I believe this is a miracle.

Now I know that science boffins with try to remove the miraculous in this with very complex explanations, which I will politely listen to and translate into "so the water molecule is shaped like a boomerang and looks like Mickey Mouse and those oxygen atoms become a little sticky because they love electrons and so become a little negative...and the hydrogen molecule becomes a bit positive and that results in hydrogen bonding" and after five minutes of my brain threatening to implode we shall conclude that the air molecules bashing into the washing line and the heat from the sun gives those little Mickey Mouse molecules energy to evaporate.

If I force myself to, I can understand how it happens.  But I allow that understanding to escape.

You see, I just love the miracle of stretching a piece of soggy cotton between two jolly pegs and returning later that afternoon to find that the washing has dried.

Not only has it dried, it has absorbed the amazing smell of happy laundry that has had an outdoor adventure.  I wouldn't go so far as to suggest that the washing has played rounders and had a picnic, but you can smell the joy created by an afternoon in the garden.

I choose to believe it is a miracle.

Just like I choose to believe Dynamo is "just magic"

Footnote:  Pre Bea laundry was sorted into darks, lights and whites...These days we have four categories; darks, lights, whites and pinks.