I think I have mentioned in the past that before I had this knitting obsession I had a passion for plants.
I would start pouring over plant and seed catalogs in January, placing orders in February and March, and by early April the hunt would be in full swing. I knew every local and not-so-local nursery. I remember many spring days driving home with every available inch of the car packed with perennials, shrubs and trees, my girls in their car seats, little faces peering out from between the foliage. They loved it, riding home inside a mobile garden. My neighbors knew me as the crazy one who would go outside, a baby strapped to her back and trim the roses.
As I learned more, my taste in plants became more sophisticated. Just as knitters quickly outgrow the flashy allure of novelty yarns, I began to loose interest in the garish flats of annuals that fill neighborhood garden centers. I started to see the diverse beauty in foliage. I loved the variety of color, texture and form I found in leaves.
Lolly has appropriately assigned green as one of the colors for April and May. As we watch the leaves and plants emerge, we can appreciate the spectrum of greens that nature presents. In photographing my two scarves today I was struck by how these two projects, so similar on the surface - both long, narrow, green, lace scarves, are as different as the leaves of two families of plants. One is the vibrant yellow-green of spring grass ablaze with dandelions, its handspun yarn and textured stitch pattern giving it a lively rugged feel. The other is the soothing blue-green of newly emerged lambs ears*, the downy-soft, hand dyed cashmere adding to the refined effect.
I still love plants and try to find time to tend my gardens. But the knitting now must be given equal time. The ideas that get me excited about both endeavors are, in the end, so much alike.
*Since most who read this are knitters I must point out that I am referring to the silvery ground-hugging plant and not the fiber animal that we all love so well!