Two months after our last workshop, the same room, the same floor. But the air had turned. A few buds on the walk over, later light, the ground softening.
This time we came with flowers in mind. Wild violets, snowdrops, early branches - the first growth in the parks and along the sidewalks. We learned to bring them onto our clothes.
A split stitch for letters. A french knot tightened into a sprig of lavender. A lazy daisy unfolding into a tulip. A woven rose shaped like a peony, built up ring by ring. These stitches are not new. They have been used for centuries on household linens, aprons, children's clothes.
Back on the cushions, a nickname took shape across the front of a t-shirt in split stitch. Bandanas from a bachelorette weekend gathered small flowers along their edges. A pair of kids' overalls, a gift for a friend's child, picked up a name stitched above the pocket. The garments took on the season - more specific to this month, this region, this evening.
When it was over, the light was holding on a little longer. It felt like the beginning of something.
