Cycles

To everything there is a season,

a time for every purpose under the sun.
A time to be born and a time to die;
a time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
a time to kill and a time to heal ...
a time to weep and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn and a time to dance ...
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to lose and a time to seek;
a time to rend and a time to sew;
a time to keep silent and a time to speak;
a time to love and a time to hate;
a time for war and a time for peace.

ecclesiastes 3:1-8

These yarns were purchased in February and March
































These were purchased in April and May























And these in June and July

Notice anything?

There is a distinct progression of color here. In the waning days of winter, I am likely to buy lightweight wools in spring colors, figuring that they will bridge the gap between when I want spring to come and when it actually gets here. Blues, greens, pinks...if you can see it in a baby store, I buy it.

Come April and May and I find my thoughts (and buying habits) turning to thoughts of hot summer beaches and sun washed picket fences. Neutrals like white, beige, sand, pebble, natural, twine, and cafe au lait dominate my internal color wheel.

But with the true summer heat that arrives in June and July, I find myself drawn to spicy colors. Oriental carpet colors. Marrakesh colors. Torrid as the sun in Mexico City colors. Hot as a flamenco dancer colors.

And it is all as predictable as malapropisms in a George W. press conference.

There is a definite cycle to my knitting, as there is to the seasons in my garden , and in my life.

In our early years we are constantly looking ahead. We can't wait until...

• We're one of the big kids
• We get to High school
• We get our driver's licence
• Our parents let us stay out past midnight
• We graduate
• We move away from home
• We get a good job
• We find the right person to share our lives with

Our desire for the future dominates our enjoyment of the present. We anticipate, when we could be savoring. We are in the planting stage of life.

As we move on, it seems we are never around. Now that we have our own homes, we're never there. Swim lessons, school functions, family vacations, baseball games, job pressures - all take a hand and contribute to the busyness of this period of life. This is the time for watering, and fertilizing, time to watch things grow. I loved those years of my life. They were fruitful.

But now I'm in high summer, and the lure of faraway places beckons me (if there's any money left after college tuition is paid.) I am spicy and earthy at this phase of my life. Not for me, the sugary sweet pastels of ice cream and cupcakes with sprinkles on them. I crave the lusty full-bodied, savories of life. I want curry, and turmeric, and jalapeno peppers.

I know that time will move on, the harvest is yet to be fully gathered in. And I know that December with its chill winds and woolen memories will come for me, as it does for us all.

But for now, I am content to turn my face to the sun and marinate in the exotic spice that enlivens my days. Whether you are planting, growing, or harvesting this day,may you do likewise.