Last year, we missed the prime of summer in the Pioneer Valley, instead enjoying the beauty of Ireland. (Amazingly, I have still not finished editing all of the photos from that trip, although I’m nearly finished.) This year, we stayed put—and folks, it was gorgeous.
As usual, we spent a fair bit of time hiking around Mount Toby—a favorite with us because it’s virtually in our backyard. It’s been nice to visit repeatedly, to gain a certain familiarity with the trails there, so that individual rocks and trees start to feel familiar, making the forest feel like an extension of our own home.
I think our favorite discovery was Cranberry Pond, a lovely little kettle pond that we’d seen on the trail map but had always just hiked past on our way to other areas of the reservation. In addition to the numerous sunning turtles and swimming fish, we found ample evidence of beaver excavation (although, alas, no beavers) and witnessed a stunning aerial display from a red-winged blackbird. It’s a lovely little spot in the early summer, and I’m sure it’s equally stunning in other seasons.
I went on adventure of a very different nature later in the summer. I’m lucky enough to live near what has to be one of the better yarn stores in the world, Webs, and in August I took a class there in which I learned how to spin on a drop spindle. Our instructor, Ashley Flagg, was fantastic (and I think something of a kindred spirit, as wool-people often are)—and although I still have a long way to go, I was really pleased with my first (and second!) full skein of yarn. (It is yearning to become a squishy cowl, but the twins need to become triplets before this dream can be realized.)
I also managed to finish my second sweater (pattern here). It was slow going for a while, as the fabric was extremely stiff and hurt my hands, but the end result is just so warm and cozy—perfect for crisp autumn days of apple-picking—and I’ve been wearing it nearly constantly ever since the weather started to turn cool.
One of the loveliest things about the valley is the morning fog—sometimes so thick that the rising sun could be mistaken for the moon. Such a view can definitely make training runs a little less onerous on brisk mornings, when it would be so much easier to hide in bed under the warmth of the covers (even when there are already other sources of motivation).
Even though autumn is once again upon us, there is still green to be found in small corners.
But in the wider world, the hue of the landscape is clearly undergoing its annual transformation.
Somehow, my blog posts always seem to be punctuated with seasonal changes—probably because I am so lax in my writing. But I am fortunate enough to be going to Rhinebeck, New York, next weekend for the annual Sheep and Wool Festival, so with any luck I will have tons of photographs of sweet-eyed woolly creatures to show off very soon.
Autumn in New England just cannot be beat. And so much the better when one gets to spend it warmed by hand-knit woolens.