of scarves and love
It started quite a long time ago, back in my hippie days, and it was foreshadowingly rife with generosity. Jude and I had jumped out of a cab on W 72nd, pivoting out of the way of a harried looking woman who was charging towards our ride. Upon walking to the sidewalk, we looked down to see a classic black and white Hermes silk scarf in the street, plump. blowy and pristine. We picked it up and really did try to catch the frenzied woman, but she and the cab were long gone. And Jude being characteristically Jude, gave it to me with love and grace. Me being characteristically me, I perhaps rather too greedily accepted it. Our find became much prized and used, changing texture as it grew to know me, yet still creating the warmth or cool my body needed. It was the favorite of the many I bought, borrowed, inherited and loved. Once, in a hurried run to catch the T, it fell off my neck without my knowledge. As I sat down in the train, I saw a woman on the street pick it up and put it in her pocket. Pain, but a good pain.
Since letting go of it, lots of love has come and wrapped itself around me. The scarf above was another gift from Jude. Every time I put it on, I see her and can feel her warmth and love within me.
And it’s the same with these, from two very dear friends, both made by them, one a knitter, the other a weaver.
This weekend, I was again wrapped in kindness and love by two friends who will be accompanying me on my winter journeys. Both scarves are beautiful, but they’re so much more than what you see. I am a lucky lucky woman. Thank you.