When Fiber Grows Roots

January 20, 2021

It's raining here in Asheville today and the view looking outside from the mill is quite dreary but in a cozy sort of way. I was going through some of my old projects and adding them to my Ravelry this morning when I came across my Vermont hat by Shannon M. Simonelli. I remembered the wool I chose to knit this design; some of the first skeins I ever picked out myself. The skeins that would ultimately spark my love of fiber and fiber artists.

It was a miserably rainy and grey day the day I picked out that yarn, right before the impending doom of the pandemic had been fully realized, in early March 2020. I was in Ireland, biking across the Aran Islands with a few friends when we were hit with a torrential hailstorm. It was coming down so hard and fast, I had to pull my bike over to the edge of the winding, seaside road and lean up against a rock fence to wait out the attack. In a few minutes, the weather cleared and the sun came out again, giving us a welcome relief. The sea twirled below the rock ledge to my right, a beautiful conglomerate of ice grey and muted blue tones. A white horse poked its head over the rock wall, and I picked a few handfuls of grass for it to enjoy. The magic of these moments was not lost on me, and even now, 2 years later, I long for that brilliantly rough landscape surrounded by a shimmering sea.

At the end of our bike journey, we reached a small cluster of buildings; a few shops, and various other establishments. We wandered into An Tuirne and An Púcán, both of which advertised Aran Sweaters. After the assault the hailstones had launched on us earlier, we were in the market for some new layers of warmth.

Inside we met an older woman with a thick Irish accent, sitting at the front desk working on her own knitting project. We each tried on and bought a sweater, and then I turned my attention to the yarn. Not the widest variety of colors, but each one was like a heathered gemstone, with the flecks of its natural origins still visible beneath the surface. I chose an undyed medium grey, and a white color, without the slightest clue what I wanted to make with them. When I had to leave Ireland and return home due to COVID, I learned to knit hats and used those skeins to make the Vermont hat.

Today, as I'm sitting in the shop watching the grey drizzle, I was just hit with a profound nostalgia for Ireland and everything I gathered into my heart while I was there. The fiber, the sharp green rockiness of the environment, the thatched roofs and little houses, made to withstand a battering by the ocean spray. I am anxiously awaiting the day I can bring my craft back to the place it started for me.