Stomping our boots on the rocks to shake off the first snow flurries, taking too-quick breaths that burn and tickle our lungs making us laugh and love the way the clean, sharp frosty air makes our bodies feel tingly and zingy.
Wrapped in warm and nurturing hand knitted loveliness our hearts are warm too on frosty mornings. We feel fine.
Winter and we are loving the change of colours from browns and greens and greys to white, white, white, black – and yes, greys – with bursts of berry red. All is quiet and blanketed in frozen water; ice and snow smooth our way.
Tonight there will be a bright fire burning red in the hearth, we will smile and sip coffee and maybe some mulled red wine and then there might be dancing or knitting, singing or storytelling – who knows what good times are on their way for all of us, including you?
When you grow up in the Hebrides among your tough Harris Tweed-clad menfolk and the smell of wet tweed and feel of rough wool is as familiar to you as your own skin you have permission to mess with it. The ancient coming together of our island sheep wool in woven and knitted form is …
The mist-kissed breeze brings the sweet scent of dog roses blooming on the wild hedge near the shore. Their pink and pure white petals lighten the mood of grey clouds. Spring feels almost like Summer this year – the days are hot bringing rumbles of thunder and early butterflies; Small Whites and Small Tortoiseshells find …
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes. Ah. The cooling wind makes the machair flowers dance in pretty pinks and bright yellow. Bumble bees buzz the red clover. Moths visit at night, painted ladies flutter from flower to flower drinking nectar their butterfly wings move like Geisha fans.
Winter: frosty mornings and feeling fine
Stomping our boots on the rocks to shake off the first snow flurries, taking too-quick breaths that burn and tickle our lungs making us laugh and love the way the clean, sharp frosty air makes our bodies feel tingly and zingy.
Wrapped in warm and nurturing hand knitted loveliness our hearts are warm too on frosty mornings. We feel fine.
Winter and we are loving the change of colours from browns and greens and greys to white, white, white, black – and yes, greys – with bursts of berry red. All is quiet and blanketed in frozen water; ice and snow smooth our way.
Tonight there will be a bright fire burning red in the hearth, we will smile and sip coffee and maybe some mulled red wine and then there might be dancing or knitting, singing or storytelling – who knows what good times are on their way for all of us, including you?
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As familiar as skin: Harris Tweed
When you grow up in the Hebrides among your tough Harris Tweed-clad menfolk and the smell of wet tweed and feel of rough wool is as familiar to you as your own skin you have permission to mess with it. The ancient coming together of our island sheep wool in woven and knitted form is …
Spring: Wild dog roses and sombre thunderclouds
The mist-kissed breeze brings the sweet scent of dog roses blooming on the wild hedge near the shore. Their pink and pure white petals lighten the mood of grey clouds. Spring feels almost like Summer this year – the days are hot bringing rumbles of thunder and early butterflies; Small Whites and Small Tortoiseshells find …
Summer: here comes the sun …the smiles returning to the faces
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes. Ah. The cooling wind makes the machair flowers dance in pretty pinks and bright yellow. Bumble bees buzz the red clover. Moths visit at night, painted ladies flutter from flower to flower drinking nectar their butterfly wings move like Geisha fans.