All is on the wane here; the long grass falls dry and soft yellow, sunlight is dimmed in the morning, the wind is colder. At the same time the bramble berries are bursting with plump ripeness and the Rowan berries shine red in the twilight as crows squawk in delight at them.
We fall into a dreamy slumber cosseted by Inner Wild hand knitted patchwork blankets. Individual patches of Donegal tweed wool, wool and silk and sequins Uist Wool and Harris wool, wool from Australia and even cotton from India: what beauty there is in diversity coming together.
Underfoot as we walk, leaves crackle, we see spiders web dewy on bare branches, Borage drops her hardy seeds over days from bountiful flowers making sure the bees have her flower nectar again next year. Promises of a future more abundant than this one, ever-expanding and growing.
But today we appreciate the warmth of spiced pumpkin colour and the rich texture of cables and hand knitted bobbles on a sweater hand knitted with love to keep a child warm.
And so as blue skies turn opaque we nestle in the mellowness of muted greens and yellow. Happy Autumn.
Quiet contemplation and contentment. Short days and frosty nights. A coolness of light. The quietness of time spent observing, being aware, noticing the beauty in every tiny moment. I am knitting a sock on tiny needles with rustic 4 ply wool rough against my finger tips. Ice crystals slide down the window glass. Letting all …
As the wind rises and the summer sunlight begins to fade my fingers are enjoying the rustic textures of Hebridean wool and minimally-processed Shetland wool pressed against deer antler bone and ram horn toggles and buttons. “The tactile delight of rough, rustic wool and smooth bone.” The flowing shapes of found deer antler tips, always …
When you grow up in the Hebrides among your tough Harris Tweed-clad menfolk and the smell of wet tweed and feel of rough wool is as familiar to you as your own skin you have permission to mess with it. The ancient coming together of our island sheep wool in woven and knitted form is …
Autumn: grasses fall, we slumber, cosy
All is on the wane here; the long grass falls dry and soft yellow, sunlight is dimmed in the morning, the wind is colder. At the same time the bramble berries are bursting with plump ripeness and the Rowan berries shine red in the twilight as crows squawk in delight at them.
We fall into a dreamy slumber cosseted by Inner Wild hand knitted patchwork blankets. Individual patches of Donegal tweed wool, wool and silk and sequins Uist Wool and Harris wool, wool from Australia and even cotton from India: what beauty there is in diversity coming together.
Underfoot as we walk, leaves crackle, we see spiders web dewy on bare branches, Borage drops her hardy seeds over days from bountiful flowers making sure the bees have her flower nectar again next year. Promises of a future more abundant than this one, ever-expanding and growing.
But today we appreciate the warmth of spiced pumpkin colour and the rich texture of cables and hand knitted bobbles on a sweater hand knitted with love to keep a child warm.
And so as blue skies turn opaque we nestle in the mellowness of muted greens and yellow. Happy Autumn.
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As the wind rises and the summer sunlight begins to fade my fingers are enjoying the rustic textures of Hebridean wool and minimally-processed Shetland wool pressed against deer antler bone and ram horn toggles and buttons. “The tactile delight of rough, rustic wool and smooth bone.” The flowing shapes of found deer antler tips, always …
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