There are few aesthetic pleasures greater than the colors of autumn. Everything becomes so saturated and rich and diverse; green forests transmute into riotous splashes of burnt orange, crimson, plum, and marigold. I gain this hypersensitivity to beauty, it seems, when, at times, I become overwhelmed by the capabilities of nature to create such vivid, otherworldly shades.
So it seems quite natural, in a time when I am in a state of perpetual color-induced bliss, that I should gravitate towards wearing colors evocative of those things that I love seeing the most. All of my most recent yarn purchases (dating back to June, mind you, in anticipation of my favorite season) have been the colors of pumpkins, shiny apples, fallen leaves, and damp moss. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the process of knitting with them, but am eagerly anticipating the plunge in temperature that will allow me to wear them.
Up top is a Milkweed, carefully pinned out and drying. The yarn is Madelinetosh sock in Violin, a color that, while evocative in its own sense, veers closer to roasted pumpkin in my eyes. The pattern was, mentally, exactly what I needed—simple, straightforward, intuitive. The plentiful garter stitch allowed me to zone out for hours on end, stitching away while watching some incredible films (more on one in specific later) and listening to the kind of music that, to me, embodies the season—warming, sensual, and rich.The resulting fabric is incredibly light, yet very warm, so it will be the perfect transition to even colder weather in the coming months. I’m excited.
Since today is one of the last vestiges of summer weather, climbing to a whopping 73 degrees, I’m going to enjoy the last chance to wear a tee shirt outside and hop over to the library to try and procure some Whitman. His words are my comfort, my chicken soup; in the cooler days ahead, they will keep me warm. Much like my pumpkin-y, cozy shawl.