This has been the most stunningly colorful Autumn we've had in many years, due to the relative dryness of October and early November, coupled with mild days and cool nights. For example:
That's the kind of color that makes me glad to be alive. I've always been unable to comprehend why people don't like Autumn. They say it's because it's the harbinger of Winter -- even my sister says that. Hanh??!!?? Of course Autumn comes before Winter, and prepares the way. But how could one let that "concern" over-ride awareness and appreciation of this:
Or this:
Glorious. And our garden has been full of this kind of thing for weeks. The big windstorm a few nights ago flung lots of the color onto the ground, but these Japanese Maples don't all follow the same schedule, so many are still heart-lifters. And in the sometimes grey light of an overcast day, the glow of golds and blaze of burgundy and scarlet are reason enough to love this quirky season.
Yesterday I delivered some new work to Raven Rocks Gallery -- two "Summer Flowers" scarves and one "Lava Flow" shawl. With Lynne's help, we got them well displayed on my rack there, and I dutifully did the inventory paperwork. It was a gorgeous late Autumn afternoon, so I drove home by a roundabout route, following only side roads and dawdling happily along.
Today the next round of new work begins. This is "Hot Stuff" on the warping board -- seven yards of it. It's a hand-dyed cotton/rayon I've had for years that I've been reluctant to use because it's pretty strong. But now, with a long grey wet winter approaching, it seems like just the ticket for me and for prospective purchasers. And here it is all nicely choke-tied and chained up, ready to put on the loom:
It doesn't look as intense on my computer screen as it does in the flesh, but I assure you that it's lively indeed. This warp will produce three scarves, each woven with a different weft yarn (I think they'll all be tencel or bamboo) and each with a different pattern. In thirty years of weaving, I've never done the same thing twice; every item is unique. This practice ensures that I don't get bored with my work . . . .
