Having made a sketch of any evidence of an old farm that once stood, another walk adds to the map. Weather flucuates from summer-like to blustery cold. The pure alpaca cowl comes off the needles. What luxury this fiber is to knit up.
Still must weave in the ends and gently block to finish. Recent heavy rain also revealed more kitchen crockery shards that are treasures – pieces in the puzzle of this place, once a farm. But the great find of the day looks to be a hawk strike – a flurry of feathers left behind. The variations of color seems to lead toward one species, but must be confirmed by someone who truly knows birds. The thrill of discovery, of reading a landscape.
More about that, next.