arguchik | to trouble and back (Reply)

my feet walk me to trouble and back. i count on them to find little niches where interesting things will catch my eye and ear. sometimes it's a guy playing guitar in front of an empty store. sometimes it's a farmer's market on a wednesday, of all things, where a trio of teenagers play "oh when the saints go marching in," dixie style. sometimes it's a plant growing between two buildings where there's seldom any sunlight; or an elm tree whose branches arch impossibly outward and upward before sweeping down to the ground. i'd love to find a yarn that captures the color, light, and coolness of that tree's shade, so i could knit myself a sweater to remind me of my breathtaking confrontation with it this afternoon. unfortunately, experience doesn't translate into a portable, textile form. (i tried this once before, with the cool steel blue that lake superior makes in the wake of a boat, when you're on your way back to civilization after 8 days backpacking, and you can't see land in any direction.) it's here or there, now or then, and gone.