A healing place…

I discovered today is very special. Counting back seventeen days before the wildfire, insert 2 years away from original home, then 2 years back in rebuilt home, forward seventeen days, mirror-reversed, bridges today with the Autumn equinox 2017. How special that is to me, because on the equinox four years ago I was finishing up my knitting trail, posted A rustic place . Today, I feel in a calm peaceful hopeful mood, and with determination, bracing myself and imagining starting the knitting trail over again. The forest was badly burned, dead & dying trees falling everywhere, soot and little pockets of ash even still in some places. In 2018 the loggers tore into it and left big open spaces, and so many really old tall firs on the lower leg of the trail disappeared. Gone. Since then there has been Jurassic regrowth of bizarre tall weeds and thorny shrubs taking over, a few pine and fir saplings, and thousands upon thousands of baby madrones. All this new growth beneath a surprising number of big firs still standing, although torched badly at their bases.

It matters not when I will complete the knitting trail all over again, but this mirror-reversed day in the timeline of things is very healing, letting the forest show me how the time passed is longer back home than was away from home, and every day now that passes heals it a little more. Something in the archives of memory is willing it seems, to start forgetting the sad and the bad times.

So, sometime this Autumn, with Juno running wild as she will, I will begin again finding the path anew in that very unique place that is the knitting trail, through and among tens of thousands of madrone trees growing furiously, completely carpeted over the old trail. That is, as soon as it dries up a little from the torrential rain we’ve been having, and I’ve been loving every drop ~~ today I am hopeful and facing forward!

The Places I Walk

jenjoycedesign© places I walk 1

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.

jenjoycedesign© places I walk 3

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.

jenjoycedesign© places I walk

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.

jenjoycedesign© places I walk 4

A cause for celebration. . .

jenjoycedesign© roof.jpgA cause for celebration because the roof is finished!  Most of you out there have no idea what a difficult process it was to get to the point of being ready for the roofers to come, through the gusts of wind and rain,  all through winter and early spring, up here in the wild where everything is quite a bit more challenging.  But with a sigh in my heart I can now relax, and the next inspection can proceed with roof complete, ready for some serious action to begin in the weeks ahead ;  windows and sliding doors will all be in place, and the rooms will begin to take shape with drywall and upstairs subfloor too, covering the plumbing, electrical & mechanical chaos.  Soon the elements of the house’s layout & personality will be recaptured.

Meanwhile, it was utterly heartwarming to know that Emma is still a hit on my blog, and although she can’t walk very well, she is a stellar napper, and still keeps me company through the days. Thank you everybody who attended Emma’s little birthday celebratory post  last week, and for you who would like to take a peek in the archives, all posts Emma’s Birthday are here. 

Out woolgathering . . .

Emmerson, Henry Hetherington, 1831-1895; Wool Gathering
Wool Gathering, 1883 by Henry Hetherington Emmerson

/ˈwo͝olˌɡaT͟H(ə)riNG/

 Indulgence in aimless thought or dreamy imagining; absentmindedness, daydreaming, reverie, musing, preoccupation, absorbed.

I have learned a new word and it rather defines me in my life as though I invented it. Meandering in thoughts, as if walking through hilly meadows collecting tufts of wool, I do ponder, always one thing or another.  I guess, it is ” woolgathering ” that I am up to; contemplating life-to-be when our house is finished being rebuilt.  I am embracing the woolgathering, and in more ways than one.

In the painting, there are three women stuffing found things (wool) from bushes, or the  ground,  into their bags.  One of them and her dog seems to have come upon and surprised a small group of sheep.

I am bemused by gathering actual wool too.   Knitting in a frenzy ten-at-a-time, on my new birch wood dpns, and writing and testing a new pattern, and collecting wool in yarn form (mostly sock yarn presently) and in dyed roving form (for blending on my remade blending board) and to spin on my wheel (a gift, which is destined to be freed from a tightly packed shed)  … to fulfill that quest which consumes me.   I gather wool, thoughts, ideas, and the tools of the trade for the work in the territory ahead.   Woolgathering is just what I do for now.

I am definitely a woolgatherer (noun), out woolgathering (verb).

What are you woolgathering about?

Words from the woodland…

jenjoycedesign© swatching.JPG
I have been experimenting with another sock design. Knitting, ripping, knitting, ripping, and knitting again. But I think I’ve finally worked it out (um…hopefully.)   There’s my knitting for the next weeks, exhaustive exploration of the designs’ potential !

♣    ♣    ♣

But perhaps the most interesting of things happening right  now are the ravens yet again stealing away with my attention in their nest-making work!  Photographed (a blurry phone photo) through the window in our tiny house yesterday in the dimming evening light, are the male & female which share the wooded habitat “close in”  with us. They are busy tearing up fluff from the packing blanket covering  the bath tub   and apparently are making a nest!  They’ve been at this blanket for about a week now, and I don’t mind,  they can shred it up all they like, and in fact, I’ve just now put a pile of yarn scraps in the middle, as an offering to them. 

IMG_20190326_182108
 We watch them pull and tear, and fill their mouths with this fluff, then fly off together to some private place near by, and then they inevitably are back, usually to be found up in the limbs close by.   Five years ago, back  in this post,  I photographed and talked about what I assume to be this pair of ravens, and took some good photos of them in the oak trees next to our house.  Of course, the wildfire brought on huge concern for a while about what would happen to the wildlife, but as you can see, as we didn’t let the loggers go through our woods, we have many trees left to be the habitat left for the wildlife. Some are not the healthiest trees, but many larger ones managed to not get too injured in the wildfire, showing a number of decades left in them.  Did you know that ravens mate monogamously for life,  and can live to be over thirteen years?  I expect they will be around for years to come (… read more info on ravens.)  

♣    ♣    ♣

Other news is that we’ve had to cut down the Black Oak which use to shade our original house, and that has been a sad thing indeed. Our original deck was built around it somewhat, and it just seemed a part of the house.  DSC_0217.JPG
We didn’t want to do it, but three-quarters of the bark had been burned off, and was nearly entirely dead.  We should have cut it down before the house started to be rebuilt, but Jeff wanted to see if it might spring back to life, which it didn’t sadly.  Now that the deck is starting to get built, it had to come down ~~~ and it was a huge stress !

♣    ♣    ♣

In closing I would like to say that although the rain came late this season, and nearly April it is still raining gobs, and from a fire-ravaged California that desperately needs regrowth of the wild habitat, rain is the new gold.  I am very inspired to plant an undergrowth of woodland species, including more fruit trees in the gardens (to share with the ravens of course), and in general have been ready to focus on planting things as soon as the rain wanes off a bit.  Making lists and garden sketches in the morning light of the window, with delicious mugs of coffee, is my solid unwavering bliss. 

gardening-in-the-rain21
From the archives:  “From within the garden gate.”