The sounds are summer; birds commenting or quarreling nosily in the trees, Lawn mowers munching through the grass with a midrange burr while traffic swells and recedes in the background. My spinning wheel mummers quietly along, the spokes swishing gently, the footman silent and the flyer’s chatter soothing as the bobbin fills. Colour follows colour pst the hooks winding onto the core, layer upon layer of muted silver and copper, creams and rusts of fall.
Without music or audio-book, I am tuned into the wildlife around me. Squirrels do battle with determined black and white birds for seed and treats. Not on purpose am I perched on the bench without electronics. The MP3 player needs to be recharged, there are no near outlets and we won’t talk of batteries.
Once again, the sunshine is warm and soft breezings are clearing the cold from the house through open windows bringing freshness to rooms grown sick of winter’s damp chill.
Bank holdiays are also apparently taken by yarn stores. I know know where both Park Lane in Basingstoke and Fibrecraft in Guildford are located. There are lots of lovely small roads along with back country rude drivers. My money is safe in my pocket.