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 …
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 …
Vibrant emerald green fades quickly to muted dusky brown. Our Hebridean sky becomes more complicated with squally clouds edged in black and orange-red speeding above us. The wind carries wild autumn seeds of Hogweed and Bishop’s Lace that will settle and sow themselves to flower next year. Goldfinches eat the last Self-Heal seeds and sparrows …
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.
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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 …
Winter: quiet contemplation
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 …
Hush now, slip into a heart-warming Autumn
Vibrant emerald green fades quickly to muted dusky brown. Our Hebridean sky becomes more complicated with squally clouds edged in black and orange-red speeding above us. The wind carries wild autumn seeds of Hogweed and Bishop’s Lace that will settle and sow themselves to flower next year. Goldfinches eat the last Self-Heal seeds and sparrows …