|
Most visitors to Albania never travel to a village.
They never walk single file behind cows in the glow of the early sun.
The never feel pebbles underfoot on uneven paths that cut between clumps
of saw grass. They never breathe in the cold, wet air that is
laced with the aroma of fresh farm washings. These are real
village mornings.
An hour before sunrise on Monday mornings, households
in Albanian villages wake to the same routine. With a good bit of proper
winter air about them, the women young and old alike change the
landscape by hanging fresh laundry. The same dreary and barren
look of the homes only hours before undergoes a transformation.
Modest and noblest colors turn into small figures that reflect color in
morning light.
Work shirts, handmade socks, and white scarves all hang
minutes-old from their cold water squeezing. They drip from the fray of
granite-like hands. They hang from limbs or fences or shrubs that
make them appear almost painted in the stillness of the morning.
Fresh and so clean, they are as close as you can get to
a winter blossom in the countryside. But don't worry, a few more
chores with a few more livestock and they'll be back in the cycle again.
Paul says differently in I Corinthians 6:11: once
we are washed, we are to stay clean. |
