There aren’t too many places in the immediate neighbourhood that we didn’t walk, Grant and I. The forty hectare eco reserve not very far from our home is one of them. I discovered this on one of this winter’s rambles. Its not far from the park where families picnic and seniors walk their little dogs along the river, but just far enough that fewer people go. There’s a walk around the perimeter, a couple of little bridges and lots of evidence of bird life.
Its an odd feeling, to find someplace new after eighteen years of walking here. There is a sense of discovery, a mild stirring of interest.
There is a swing bridge near where the trail branches off. It spans the oft referenced Fraser River, silty at this time of year. Its muddy and green most of the time here as a matter of fact.
Late at night, when the city is a bit quieter, I sometimes can hear a consistent industrial roar. Its not always there, and I wondered what it was. The sound of the docks on the river is more obvious, and the crashes and clangs of the work travel across water clearly. As it turns out, the roar is the incinerator for the regional district. It sits at the far entrance to the eco reserve, in the trees between the industrial area and the river. Its well off the main roads through the city and can’t be seen by commuters. In the daytime, the noise is just part of the ongoing background hum, and can’t be defined.
There are still farms in the Fraser River delta, and these came from a roadside stand spotted on the way home.
No fibre arts worth noting these past few weeks. The impulse is on a bit of a hiatus. I expect it will return.
…these delicate pinks.
Wild roses and blackberry blossoms in cottonwood fluff.
From the neighbourhood walk today.
Who needs to head out into the wilderness to have encounters? We hear packs of these guys in our green space, these wild urban dwellers. The lost cat posters seen in the neighbourhood are a testament to the adaptability of the coyote. These are creatures to be admired – like the urban eagles and hawks that live in the park near us they seem to have established a way to live here. It’s an uncomfortable collision between worlds at times – but this fellow seems to have a system worked out. Some poor old mouse in the grass is not so lucky.
Two ounces of cashmere, one in cloud form, and one as raw fleece became first this:
The raw fleece washed up into a much lighter, and much less “goaty” smelling fibre. Both spun up a bit slubby but as a two ply a lot of the flaws were absorbed into the yarn. There were a lot of guard hairs in the raw fleece as well, and even now as the gloves are worn hairs poke out to be removed. It’s OK, the gloves are incredibly light and soft, I just reserve the right to maybe only use the processed fleece in the future. These gloves are incredibly warm – made just in time to be stored for cool weather. Very basic pattern, essentially a tube with a thumb stuck in it.
Next project, carding up some washed Polwarth locks, just expanding the skill set bit by bit.
This is more rustic yarn in the making – this wasn’t a top quality bag of fleece and there are a fair number of short bits and hunks of vegi matter, but hopefully some carding skills will be improved. Rustic yarn is kind of fun anyhow.
Sorry, too many episodes of Game of Thrones apparently. A series which has lost its charm for me actually. Too much gore, too many killings, just too much. Anyhow, Grant took this recently on a local hike and I couldn’t resist.
Off the loom, it is about four metres of 40 cm wide yardage. Not quite big enough on its own to be a blanket but I will finish the ubiquitous blue up completely making a couple of panels to sew on to it. It’s an easy point twill, (hard to make out I know) and should be a warm cover. It may benefit from lining it with some fleece maybe, that remains to be seen. I have vigorously washed and blocked it and it stood up very well. There is a slow food movement? This is slow fabric. Fun.
Still with the birds. Our unusual, but not unheard of, cold snap has continued, with accompanying clear bright skies. Today at Crescent Beach the ducks filled the ocean, hundreds and hundreds of them, murmuring to themselves. We had never seen anything like it. I guess the ponds are frozen over. Mallards and wood ducks were what we made out, there may have been other kinds too.
Lots of these fellow too, charging up and down the shore. Amazing how few people out today, I guess this is cold for here. (The rest of the continent, socked in with blizzards gives us a razzberry. )