I Love the Depths of Winter

I don't know if it is normal for most people to feel a rhythm to their projects when they look back over their hand working lives, but I sure do. There are always the little exceptions, the little hiccups, but the rhythm is there when I look at the projects where I have followed my heart. Maybe its part of getting to the age that I have come to. There is comfort in that flow of things, comfort in the stages and the processes and I revel in it.

Winter is a great time of year to work big heavy things, things that you can cover yourself with as you go to hold off the chill. The deep winter, the part after the holiday rush is done, is when warm afghans are crocheted, and quilts are completed. Deep winter is for epic embroideries, large panels, and huge pictures with fine shadings and rich tones that take months of dedicated thought and work to complete. My deep winter projects have always reflected my need to hunker down, burrow in, hibernate in the quiet of the day, the quiet of my thoughts to survive the dark and the cold.

As the days get lighter, in the pale of winter, there is a change in the air. Its too cold but you can't help thinking about what is next. Your thoughts are full of garden catalogues and magazines, and there is a lightness in the air that just has to come out. Everything within you is straining to spring. Projects are light tones, small, quick to complete, things that express the urgency of green bursting through the thawing forest floor, of newness, of freshness. It is the season of projects that are light, open, airy; laces, doilies, delicate things, beaded embroideries, but always things that tell of crisp edges against a rich deep blue summer sky.

June is all show, all flamboyance. It's the season of testing yourself, working faster, pushing to meet deadlines, like wedding samplers and bridal gifts. June is warmth and busy days doing everything so long as it is under the sunny skies. Its often about trying something just a little further on the edge than you normally go, like socks, like knitting. Its about not fearing failing, about bold, big movements, confident things that you might not try other seasons. Its when I am most likely to experiment with new techniques, with new processes. Working in the dappled shade on a hot day might bring out lazy hazy days of summer for others, but for me, its all about growth.

August is the fullness of spring and summer promise. August is for bringing things in, for earnest efforts for completion. Everything is about making ready, about preparing for the next step. Fall is purposeful thinking, purposeful handwork. Fall is the time of sweaters, vests, socks, things that have a job to do. I find my self arranging and planning gifts, embroideries , long hardanger pieces, graceful little crocheted snowflakes, long strings of beads surrounded by lace crochet, tatted edgings and small bags to fill with lavender for people you love.

Fall is always followed by the rush of Christmas approaching. Its not about choosing anymore, or planning, its just about making sure its done with enough time to wrap and deliver under a tree. Sometimes this is the season of panic, and rush, but only when you can't reign in your inner belief that you can and must do everything even when everything is unrealistic and downright ludicrous. Its the season of midnight knitting, and beading enough to drive you mad.

I find myself wishing the time of each season would last longer, sometimes wishing days moved slower even now on these dark and cold days. I can't help but see that its the end of January and I want more days when I can simply sit and work. I wish time would move as slowly as most things do in this kind of cold. I'm not really in love with -32 and severe weather, but I'm deeply enamoured with winters projects.

I worked on the shawl yesterday at lunch, I worked on the shawl last evening while visiting the guy stuck in hospital, I worked on the shawl this morning in the wee early hours. It still looks much as it did in the photo I took more than a week ago, even though it has been a constant in my days. It is with me everywhere, and it is in my mind even as I finish small and more urgent things. Most days there is a row or two of the shawl. Part of me is distressed by this slow middle, but most of me is entranced. Projects like this are like finding a friend, learning who they are, getting to know their secrets.

This shawl will be my companion a while longer still, and that is very very good.