Ripples on the pond

Each time I meet new people in the community, I feel the ripples of connection spreading around me. Neighbors. Fiber arts community. Earth spirituality. One circle overlays the next as it ripples across the tiny pond.

Last August was very different. I was on my victory lap, still in awe of the circumstances that contrived to drop me here in my beloved hills. Everything was new, and a bit overwhelming. This August, I’m still filled with joy and awe, but I’m also deeply content. A year of bliss has filled in the empty places.

Yesterday, I hemmed a small tablecloth I had woven at Vavstuga in February. I sat on the balcony that overlooks the meadow, nestled deep in it’s shaded recess. This is my favorite spot on weekend mornings. The breeze was such that I caught occasional soft drifts of banjo music from one of the neighbors.

Later in the afternoon I made potato leek soup, slightly more golden than is typical, because I used a rich and flavorful vegetable stock. Of course, I enjoyed using the newly hemmed tablecloth.

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