I started kayaking this past summer, and I really love it. Besides the knitting and reading I can get done while floating along the lake edge, I also love to do a little watching and photographing. It's remarkable to see how much the lake has changed within the past month - and it was great to be able to capture it with my trusty, dusty little digital camera. The lake is losing its water lilies - they are decaying and with it the water is growing heavier. It's filled with good things: more food for the fish, lovely long tendrils of green that latch onto my paddles and great lazy patches of hovering bugs who congregate to plan their last feast on Phyllis. I don't really mind (I carry lots of repellent) - it's part of the season and with it comes the most extraordinary light. We went out relatively early in the morning - about 8:30 and I was able to catch a lovely haze on the horizon along with some wonderful lavendar lighting. I most probably will never be a naturalist, but more than once nature has saved my emotional life so these very modest pictures are my way of noting its beauty.
Now I leave the sublime to wend my way to the ridiculous:
With fall comes a renewed interest in knitting socks. Knitting socks for me is like the idea of going to the gym every day--Great concept, lousy in execution. I find them to be a tedious bore. It makes me feel bad since the thought is so nice and cozy. Knit some socks, have some tea. Send the socks off to someone with a sense of humor - because that is what it will take for someone to put them on. I am doing them in koigu, since my fabulous client gave me a big stash of the stuff and as any knitter will tell you, it's worth its weight in gold. I hope to do the yarn some honor, but it's doubtful. Above is an advanced preview along with a shot of my divine "back to school" sweater for my god daughter. I'm looking for the right closure - it will be either a knitted flower or some outstanding ribbon. I am all up for suggestions, however, so don't be shy.
