The summer tide ebbs and reveals to us a sea rock garden on the shore; bright greens, black-grey-blues and browns, creamy-coloured whelks and limpets, flowing, air-bubbled sea plants all holding firm to solid, massive, ancient gneiss.
As-one-with-nature Inner Wild wilderness wear for dearhearts clockwise from top left:
Freshwater Strappy Top, back
Illustrator Cuffs
Freshwater Strappy Top, front
Elven Strappy Top
Ancestors Apron
Harris Wool Leaf Belt
Spirit of the Sea Collar
Feeling the connectedness. Centered by the giant rocks. Grounded by the sea water flowing in and out, in and out.
Inspired in the Winter half-light listening to hooded crows cawing at twilight by luscious skeins of handspun yarn from Studio Underwood on Etsy. Tinkling silver shards on ice puddles, crushed meadow grass in gold. Bare branches and quiet clouds. Storms and wildness outside. Ancient spirits whispering.
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 …
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes. Ah. The cooling wind makes the machair flowers dance in pretty pinks and bright yellow. Bumble bees buzz the red clover. Moths visit at night, painted ladies flutter from flower to flower drinking nectar their butterfly wings move like Geisha fans.
Summer: she sees sea gardens on the seashore
The summer tide ebbs and reveals to us a sea rock garden on the shore; bright greens, black-grey-blues and browns, creamy-coloured whelks and limpets, flowing, air-bubbled sea plants all holding firm to solid, massive, ancient gneiss.
As-one-with-nature Inner Wild wilderness wear for dearhearts clockwise from top left:
Feeling the connectedness. Centered by the giant rocks. Grounded by the sea water flowing in and out, in and out.
Related Posts
Winter: enchanted by silver and gold
Inspired in the Winter half-light listening to hooded crows cawing at twilight by luscious skeins of handspun yarn from Studio Underwood on Etsy. Tinkling silver shards on ice puddles, crushed meadow grass in gold. Bare branches and quiet clouds. Storms and wildness outside. Ancient spirits whispering.
As familiar as skin: Harris Tweed
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 …
Summer: here comes the sun …the smiles returning to the faces
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes. Ah. The cooling wind makes the machair flowers dance in pretty pinks and bright yellow. Bumble bees buzz the red clover. Moths visit at night, painted ladies flutter from flower to flower drinking nectar their butterfly wings move like Geisha fans.