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Into each life a little serendipity must fall. Such was my lot at the end of last week when there was an unexpected venue change. Although short (less than 24 hours) I had the opportunity to experience cool mountain lake knitting.
What can I say about bliss?
Beautiful crisp blue - sky,
lake and yarn.
How best to describe the impact of "something different" on the yarn psyche?
The verdant green of the forest rising and falling with the
thrust of the mountain and the undulating stitches.
Do I describe how long the inspiration lasts?
A pause in the rush of time.
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