My mother believed in the dreams of flowers and animals. Before we went to bed at night as small children, she would reveal to us in her storytelling voice that salmon dreamed of mountain passes and the brown faces of grizzlies hovering over clear rapids. Copperheads, she would say, dreamed of placing their fangs in the shinbones of hunters. Ospreys slept with their feathered, plummeting dreamselves screaming through deep, slow-motion dives toward herring. There were the brute wings of owls in the nightmares of ermine, the downwind approach of timber wolves in the night stillness of elk.
~Pat Conroy, The Prince of Tides
When knitting needles dream, I believe they find themselves sliding through the silky merino wool of
Mini Mochi yarn, perfect partners in the making of...
more socks for me!
Here is the colorway Bodega Bay that I just got in the mail from Jimmy Beans Wool.
And here is my shot of northern California's Bodega Bay itself. I think you will agree that the Crystal Palace people did a nice job in naming that yarn color.
