Relentless

June is a month that marks time for me in a way no other month does.  Every day as I wake, the sun is farther and farther to the point where it will shine straight into my northeast facing room.  And then one day, it does and for about 20 brief and glorious days, I wake bathed in sunlight. Its is a countdown as old as earth itself, relentless, following a pace in time and space that the universe sets. Seemingly immutable, and tied to the very core of who we are.  It reaches a crescendo at the summer solstice.

Sleeves knitted last on a knit from the top down are kind of like that.  You pick them up, and forward, forward relentlessly moving down to sleeve hem to the grand crescendo of a completed sweater, a great journey that reaches the height of glory in the finished accomplishment.

Or it would, if those overly grand poetic thoughts weren't like something out of a movie. In my study, sitting there with the pink before me, I catch myself thinking, 'there are two of them.  Two.  I'm never going to finish. These little tubes are going to kill me in their mind numbingly endless knit 3 rounds decrease the next.  Over and over and over again.'

Sleeves are relentless. The only reason I keep going is because there really is the grand crescendo of a completed sweater.  It makes it all worthwhile.

So I sit and knit, and keep focused on that deliberate path, step by step,  forward.