A Day

Charlie and I walked out at 6:00 on the most beautiful morning of the year (so far). Even little Charlie cast a long shadow in the early light, and my shadow extended far into the meadow Jay has been cutting. The morning light was beautiful, with a little mist over the pond. But it was the sounds that took most of my attention. From the pond to the north we heard geese honking on and off, and one or two deep bullfrogs keeping time. From the south came the drumming of a woodpecker, loud enough to be a big pileated, the Woody Woodpecker type. From across Gulf to the west there was a racket of frogs and the low gobbles of turkeys. And all around, too diffuse to locate, there were the sweet high notes of songbirds – swallows, bluebirds, and the more watery songs of red-winged blackbirds and bobolinks. Only the rising sun was conducting this orchestra as it tuned up for the day’s performance. We walked down the hill in the best kind of surround sound.

I wanted to get Charlie a decent walk early because we were going to be leaving him for a few hours. We met up with Peter and Aviva in “downtown” Hartwick (at the now four way stop!), and carpooled to the fiber arts show an hour northwest in Bouckville. It was a perfect day for the ride, with the warm sun lighting meadows of pink and yellow wildflowers. In plowed fields, corn is coming up, bright green against the dark brown. The drive was a feast for the eyes, and so was the show. There were big open tents set up in a field filled with booths displaying all manner or yarns, beautifully dyed. Many of the vendors had brought their spinning wheels to pass the time between customers. There were knit goods, woven goods, and felted goods. Several vendors had brought the animals that produce the yarn: a couple of nervous young alpaca, all manner of sheep and goats, and three monstrously fat angora rabbits. Color and texture everywhere.

I stopped to look at some very fine weaving and admired a nice little table loom the vendor had set up. “I’m selling it,” she said, “I’m just not using it any more”. With an 18″ weaving width, it’s wide enough for place mats and scarves. It sits on a table top, and I could put it into a closet myself. I walked away to think about it, and asked Jay what he thought. As always, he thought I should do what I wanted to do. So I bought it. It will be a different experience of weaving from my huge floor loom, but it’s a nice way to get back to weaving without giving up a whole room. I have missed producing something tangible, and with the narrow width I’ll be able to experiment more quickly both with different weaves and different color combinations.

Now, with evening coming on, I’m looking forward to my last walk of the day with Charlie. We go out when there’s still enough light so that I don’t need a flashlight, as the flashlight attracts flying insects on these warm evenings. The walk down the hill is always pleasant, but the best moment comes at the foot of the driveway when we turn and face the house up at the top of the hill. In any light, in any weather, the sight lifts my heart. If there are lights on inside on a cloudy or rainy evening, it looks so cozy and inviting. When the sky is clear the west facing windows are mirrors for the sunset. Charlie and I walk back up, the circle of our day completed. Home beckons, beautiful against the sky.