there is always tapestry.

And though Rebecca doesn't cover
these materials in her wonderful new book
The Art of Tapestry Weaving,
(officially launching today!)
she does provide instruction
on all  of the techniques I used.
(well, not the clamp and scrap wood support part,
but maybe I"ll talk about that
​some other day on this blog).

Today --

well today--

​all I knew for sure--

So this happened this week--

​and also... this.

The two are linked in my mind in part
 because ​the unseasonable snow began to fall
just as I finished the willow vessel, 
the white stuff accumulating
as afternoon faded into evening--

--clustering and freezing
to the late-season leaves still clinging
to the fairy-tale-thick lilacs
that surround our house--
 lilacs so old and leggy and dense
that from May through October,
the house vanishes
behind blossoms and leaves--
leaves that relax the hot summer sun
and filter the dry dust of August--
​leaves and boughs that are unused
to such unexpected weight
so that later in the evening,
after the power went out,
the cracking  and crashing 
was loud, and worrisome.

Gosh 2020,
what else do you have in store--
a seven year apprenticeship to a blacksmith
to get the necessary iron shoes
for climbing a glass mountain?

But morning is wiser than evening,
and though the power (on again overnight)
popped off again with an impressive pre-dawn flash
as I shoveled the bits of sidewalk I could access
and contemplated the tangled mess everywhere else
 I saw, in the dim light,
that we had gotten off easy.

There was much to do, of course,
but it was still a Sarah-sized project,
something I could tackle
with shovel, loppers
 bow saw, a bit of persistence
and three pairs of wet mittens.

Indeed, by lunch time,
we could once again
use our front door,
and I even snatched a moment
​for a photo or two
when the light 
​was particularly lovely--
​grateful, that day, for a bit of a break
as well as a strong-enough back.

Nothing like a bit of willow-centric camaraderie, however,
to remind me that though the lilac
was on its way to some level of organization,
our friend the coppiced willow
was once again blocking the sidewalk

Sunday morning would do for that, however,
and I was glad of a night's sleep
for instead of just plunking it down
to lop into kindling at my leisure
as I assumed I would,
the pile of wands seemed to ask
 for a different fate.
​But what?

Too late for bark collection,
and too early for intricate sculpture
 the whips were nevertheless
sufficiently flexible, with care,
for four large, leafy hoops--
magic portals to who knows where,
now woven into the gaps
left in the lost lilacs.

It was simple enough  to do,
and also
absurdly cheering.

Today the sun is shining
and hunks of ice,
loosened by the slight increase in temperature
are thudding onto the roof of the house--
(some impressive bangs to be sure
as I have a metal roof ).

It is nice enough, actually, to take
 another load of lilac branches
to the yard waste recycling
after I've sent this to you--
but I think I will give the city a chance
to catch up with the impressive piles
I found there yesterday,
and instead, perhaps, investigate
the branches of Oregon Grape
crushed by falling lilac
​and currently waiting for that next load,
the under-bark  of which
looks enticing yellow--

And -- oh joy--it has been used
as a dye source
by the First Nations People
of the Mid Columbia River region.
How compelling is that?
​Perhaps next time
the plants in my life
are hit hard by the vagaries
of the seasons and our
ever-shifting climate,
I'll be able to loop  light
with strands of golden yellow.
​Only time will tell.

ps. I may be a little late with the blog  next week,
for, internet willing,
I hope to spend most of the morning
at Rebecca Mezoff's  Book launch
I'm so thrilled about this book--
and not just because I was fortunate enough
to  get to write the forward!
It really is a marvel, from cover to cover.
You can learn more about the book itself
in this little trailer,
and also join the enthusiastic throng
at either (or both) of the zoom events--
on November third and seventh
 accessible at the link above.
And though Rebecca was not thrilled
that her launch is on election day,
tapestry seems a far better place 
to put one's energy
than watching results trickle in. 

Indeed, I look forward to celebrating
Rebecca's marvelous ability
to shed light onto
the making of woven tapestry  
more than I can say. 
Maybe you'll be there too!