"In words, like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er,
Like coarsest clothes against the cold"

—Tennyson

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Seam by seam my next quilt is coming together. Triangles of birds and bright colors flip inside of pinwheels and steer diagonal lines across the fabric. And during breakfast this morning, I watched the birds outside my window — a blue jay hunted for peanuts beneath the pine tree, a robin flitted from fencepost to lilac bush.

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