Up to the peak with Juno today, with the oaks just past their full golden splendor, and I remembered my camera, so I got some clear shots of my favorite views southerly toward Diablo and Tamalpais, with the fog over … Continue reading
Out in Autumn
Category Archives: knitting in the wild
Out in Autumn
Walking out in Autumn with Juno this morning, up to the precipice, overlooking a beautiful fog in the valley below, and cool enough at 8:30 in the morning. Again, I used my phone, which I keep in a little hip pack whenever I go hiking now, but so disappointed the phone’s photos portray everything hazy and colorless (next time I absolutely must bring my camera!) but I did get some photos of the top of the mountain, and on the way back down. I’m making a good effort with Juno to be out as much as possible in my favorite time of year, cherishing the landscape, although heat still hovering in waves, dusty, dry, and thirsty, hoping for the rains to start soon, and give it a good drink!
steptember
Today is the 1st of Step-tember, and a daily walking routine, so Juno and I walked to the top of the mountain, she running in circles around me. Phone photos don’t do justice to the scenery (so lazy these days, I didn’t bring my camera) but they document the event, so it’s all good. Steptember and Walktober are the months about walking-into-autumn, making up for the lazy days of summer I spent indoors out of the heat. Now, counting down the days to the Autumnal Equinox, three weeks from today!
Out in Spring
Walking out in Spring on the fresh mown wild grass with Juno, I took photos with my phone, which look less than great as I’m a lousy phone photographer, but what the heck, it was hard to resist a glimpse of spring on the mountain that is recovering from wildfire for years to come. I have been tremendously busy, for months, out in the landscape working on the fire defensible space project that is all-consuming. On the creative front, I’ve been weaving ultra fine cotton in a series of rigid heddle loom experiments, and on what seems to be an eternal warp, and baking bread a lot, as well as other delicious things, like making chocolate!
Its difficult to believe that I have been weaving — and not knitting — for almost a whole year now, and I think although I don’t ever see slowing down with the weaving, I finally miss knitting. I miss spinning, and dying wools, and blending artful batts on my drum carder, and my Tweed Chronicles experiments too, but where do I find the time to do it all? I am feeling a time crunch and the panic of wildfire season just ahead, thinking to just get past the hard work, only a couple more months. Even though I can feel more at ease this year as the cool temperatures and rain has lasted wonderfully long, lingering and staving off the dry heat, the work presses on . . . and I am older, sore, and tired a lot. Scotty, beam me to late summer when the grass has stopped growing and the bonfires of the next rain season are still off the calendar, when the scorching dry weeks of August through September chase me indoors, desperately needing distraction from it . . . and then, surely there’ll be more time to relax into all of the creative projects!
Winter Solstice
A very happy winter solstice, and a walk with Juno to the top of the mountain on this very clear bright morning, with wintery sentiment from the red toyon berries. All the new growth is overtaking the dead trees from the wildfire (now six years since), the old trees still standing appear silver and artfully dignified in their rightful place, here, there, everywhere, in the crisp winter light.
((click 1st image to go to slide show))
Out in Autumn
Many weeks have passed since my last post on the equinox. I guess I just wanted to let October drift through the days without attention to anything in particular. Now comes November, and the most Autumnal month in the year it seems to me, and rain came yesterday, then this morning the chill was upon us. How could I resist going out with Juno and my camera to walk through the woods and say hello to our overgrown trail? Sniffing all the lovely smells, the spicy moist bay leaves and moldy musky smell of rained-on wild hay, crunching through fallen leaves and over thousands of acorns, kissing the awakened moss and climbing over yet more fallen trees, and admiring the grey clouds hanging by themselves in an otherwise blue sky. Its as though the landscape swells and sighs, as I do, into the moist cool healing after a difficult hot summer. Now home, the grey clouds are gathering, promising perhaps another shower, as a good mood, with cozy knitting with coffee inside . . .
(click the tree to go to the slideshow)
Out in Autumn
Rain has soaked the earth in our neck of the woods since some time in mid October, so much rain in fact, that there were run-off streams rushing down the hill that I haven’t seen in a couple of years. The return of the rain season is at last on time, calming everybody’s nerves and we’re settling into a bit of a post fire season bliss. At present we’re having a spell of warm clear days after all that rain. So clear and mild out early this morning I was able to get out with my camera while Juno & Jeff went to dog class and I had a beautiful sunrise all to my self! Mid Autumn, and the golden oaks and maple trees are glowing, turning of the season in balance and everything in its place. What is new: a thing showed up at the very end of October, and if you’re wondering what that odd photo of a small bit of machinery is, its an Ashford electric spinner folks! I write with exclamation and excitement, but to be honest, I’m not sure I’m so crazy about it. I much prefer spinning on my Ashford Traditional spinning wheel any day, but in recent months I have not been able to sit at the treadle wheel without a bit of back pain, or sitting for too long in general. So I couldn’t resist the temptation to try one, as my newly back pain caused a bit of a dilemma, the optimal plan in doing so is that I am able to spin and ply while standing! I must admit in its favor, that it is quite a thrill to ply off several hundred grams of singles bobbins at lightening speed, something that perhaps in time I will find a real benefit from. Until then, its in the closet while the beautiful Ashford Traditional is out of the closet. And Juno is eight months old this week ! Although her behavior is full tilt puppy still, and lots of misbehaving and testing her humans, she’s getting an adult coat of fur and looking quite beautiful . . .
good-bye summer
Walking along my trails, going a little further up the ridge now, making my way around, over and under so many falling blackened trees, carrying the weight of that time almost three years ago, wishing to outgrow the sadness that lingers in the landscape, however robust and magical is the resilience of nature! Goodbye summer.
Tomorrow is the Autumnal equinox, and finally I will be walking into Autumn, a season which seems to be more forgiving of endings, fresh and open for verdant return of moss, of life renewed from rain. And on my bare feet I’ll be wearing the comfort of the season, new verdant green mossy boot socks, plush and double thick, two yarns held together merino socks that I cast on at the June Solstice, and knit slowly & purposefully all summer long, while oppressed by sweltering heat and choking smoke. Soon the air will clear and crisp and be again glorious!
(Click 1st image below and see slideshow my walk from the afternoon. )
Fresh off the needles, a very simple boot sock, for hiking . . .
Pattern: Walking With Emma socks
Yarn: Knit Picks Stroll, charcoal and bamboo, held together throughout.
Project Details: Solstice Socks
Solstice Socks
It is at last the Summer Solstice and I am so happy to be knitting in the wild again. And what a better way than with a pair of socks, on this longest day of the year, when because the sun is blaringly bright and hot, and the shadows reluctant to be seen, I have waited until the hazy late hours of the afternoon. Chores are done; bread baked, coffee roasted, laundry on the line, dinner in the pot, and so I’m scampering along my little trail, navigating over, under, around still falling burned trees . . .
Rather hidden paths I have every intention to keep maintained by walking, but so much work to get them established, especially through the now drying & stickery meadowy woods.
I have wanted to try two fine fingering yarns held together in a sock, for a color rich tweedy affect and thick and downy merino soft too. So I am knitting speedily along with only 50 stitches in a pair of Walking With Emma socks, in Chart B which has an easy 1×1 rib cuff flowing into a wider & longer rib. I’ll work rib then with an inch left to the leg, switch to stockinette for the rest of the sock. The counting of this particular rib is so natural for me, with odd numbers of knit & purl; (knit) 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 — (purl) 1 — 1, 2, 3 — 1. A sturdy snug little sock to slip into my garden sloggers to go down and water the garden, and this sock will be the “vanilla sock” I’ve been waiting to try, because sometimes the artful is in the plain & simple. I will talk more about the yarn later, but I’m loving this moss green and grey stone colorway by the way! Oh, and I am knitting these on metal circulars, for although I fell in love late in life, with hardwood dpns (double pointed needles), the circulars allow me to just trip along on the trail without worrying about pulling a needle out or breaking or snagging my dpns in my knitting bag. And I really must confess, that I seriously need a break from the Pile O’ Yokes, which are now becoming yokes with bodies and sleeves. Anyway, its summer and I want to start knit-walking again, something it seems I’m always having to “start over” again, which is silly, but in order to pull myself away to get out on the trail and still get knitting done I really need a project I can not think about, something I can walk over logs, and under fallen trees, and not drop a stitch. Something that I can rattle off fast and furiously and shake off all that ails me!
Happy Summer Solstice!
Out in Autumn (late).
Walking along a foggy path in the late afternoon, in late Autumn, I observe the season expiring after the heavy rain last week. Everything seems to be falling to the ground, exhausted. Soon there will be new grass popping up.
The last of the gold leaves wave in the breeze, as if to say “I’m tired, and it is time to go”, and the vines surely have given all their energy growing grapes for 2019 Harvest, and will wait bare until pruning time in late winter, leaving the trellises standing like soldiers in a winter field.
The stinging needles on the star thistle rot and become harmless, muted into the dull brown grass.
The fog surely lays burden to the spider webs, and even though nature is bedding down, the creatures are stirring.
The oaks are shedding leaves and covering the ground, another layer of compost for the soil, two years after the wildfire is nothing less than a treasure.
Yet some of what was dormant is now waking up, becoming lush, verdant, alive, as is the story of the moss.
So near to the solstice, I believe this little foggy outing has put me in the mood for more walking and writing, for it is at these times when I most intensely feel my existence. Rituals of coffee and chores, punctuated with knitting, walks, short naps, and contemplative writing, are my comfort as I get older. Peaceful and nearly silent my days tumble over one another, seemingly inconsequential, but if only to witness my landscape as it goes through the seasons. And I am happy it is so.
The Places I Walk
I was out early this morning walking, before I got a chance to get carried away with projects. This Autumn I am recommitting to getting out and walking as I use to do, since about the time when I first started this blog. Each time I go out into the changing landscape I feel its healing influence in me as it ebbs back to health from the wildfire, the prolific growth on the branches and at the stumps of burned trees everywhere remind me of a vibrant desire for life, even though so many trees must give in to lifelessness.
I walk alone, without distraction, listening to the grasses sway and the browning leaves shake in the breeze, and as I walk it feels like I am turning stones along the way, seeing glimpses of my past, unavoidable as I’ve walked these very steps and places so many times before. This landscape has seen lifetimes of people walking along here in the very same places, back to the indigenous race who’s arrowheads I have found, and sometimes it is as though I walk through time, feeling the ancient geography and the presence of walkers of an ancient time. Or maybe I will feel happy Emma as a puppy in her explosive energy, or a friend I walked with once . . . all whispers in the wild.
Everyday I need to be out in the wild, knitting to keep my hands busy, but sensitive and pondering, ready to let tears fall if they want, or a new exciting idea take hold, whichever seems to be inevitable for the moment. I am determined to see the landscape change to normal again, and it is what I consider to be the best thing for me, and when I get home I make a cup of coffee and get things done, and all the while I let myself be swept along by the knitted stitches, and that is as good as it gets.
Out in Autumn (early).
We’ve spent two nights so far in the new house, so we’ve officially moved in, even though the construction mess is ongoing, we’re all just happy to be finally home. Now I’m busy cleaning out the tiny house to its former glory before two humans, a dog, and countless spiders inhabited it for seventeen months, while Jeff continues the finish building. I woke this morning early and watched the rose-gold sunrise, while Emma in her Help’emUp harness acclimates to the new front porch, as that was one of her favorite places before, where she use to spend hours napping in the early mornings.
We are back home, it is Autumn, and life is good.
A day of days!
I’m in a robust mood this morning early, a beautiful golden sunrise through the glistening air of recent days of rain. Right now the forest is alive with promise!
Ignore the charred black trunks, because what is going on beneath the surface is nothing less than a miracle. I want to emulate the forest, and allow myself to sprout renewed growth from such a vibrant place within, the place of true life .
In the mood to step outside with camera and capture the moment, vivid as it can be; the wildlife stirring, Emma napping quite oblivious to it, the knitting trail ready to be worked & walked . What a day of days!
A couple cups of rich strong French Roast and I am ready for the day!
If good moods are contagious, I hope everyone out there is feeling the day as wonderful as this.
Franny & Zooey
I have been thinking of names for our pair of lovebird ravens, predictably a famous couple, and Franny & Zooey comes to mind. A fictitious pair of genius siblings who are perfectly worthy of these smart trusting birds, and well, its just that I’m a fan of Salinger. Here’s Zooey, on the wood pile, right next to our tiny house ….
He is preening and watching over his shy lady Franny, who walks on the ground at a greater distance in the Charcoal Forest.
But distance is relative, because I tell you folks, I was 20 feet away at the most, quietly inching forward ever so slowly before Zooey caught on to me, and took flight.
Beautiful birds, I just can’t get over them.
They have so far snubbed my yarn offerings by the way!
Out into Autumn
Out walking I see the Mayacamas mountains rolling southerly down into their foothills.
I am enjoying Autumn now that the leaves are beginning to cover
the blackened forest floor from last year
This sparse ground cover is only the beginning of the leaf fall,
they will continue to flutter down until winter is here.
I woke today after having seemingly dreamed almost consciously about a new fresh start in life walking a little more every day, away from stress of the wildfire, restoring a positive feeling about myself and my life, so that when the house is finally ready for us to move into it, I will be rebuilt too. Its been a rough year for me, hands down, and I have existed in a self spun cocoon trying to not think about the stressful things, but I really do believe committing to walking increased distances will cure all that is wrong in my world. Just one walk at a time.