It’s been raining.
For weeks now, sheets of drizzle that bite at my open eyes, big, fat globs that make constellations of the orange streetlights outside my open window.
At night I breathe the smell of damp pavement and allow myself to be lulled to blackness by the rustle of raindrops and damp leaves.
I miss the bright California sun, but I, like the earth, sigh in earned relief at these grey days. Drought makes us cautious. We have all become husks, adapted to scarcity. After five years of worry, five years of ration and doubt, what’s to be done with this abundance?
Cracked hillsides turn velvet green. Black soil blooms in the bright white of button mushrooms. Dry creek beds overflow with fast, grey water. Between storms, a bright new blue breaks through.
I want to be like the earth and trust in the abundance while it lasts. I, too, want to send out fresh green shoots. I want to let my barren places become supple again. I want to prepare for bounty.
I will send out my hope like fresh ripples on this old, still pond.
This blanket was made in classic ripple stitch (done in back loops only to add texture) with six colors of Caron Simply Soft yarn and an I/5.50mm crochet hook.