goose song: two finished picnic quilts

and our own personal rainbow

Last night I took a ride up the mountain. After two days of sticky sun and temperatures over 90 degrees – a rare occasion in June in Vermont – the day met us with a still-quite-warm 82 by the time the afternoon came and by evening there was a dampness in the air that had the feeling of rain despite the forecast calling for clear skies all night. In the passenger seat of the pickup rolling and swaying over the big rocks that line the road where it turns from dirt to something more like a trail, I held my arm out the open window and let my fingers graze the rosa multiflora as the road narrowed. The brook got farther and then closer again, fell into deep hollows and climbed back up to join us again. We approached a clearing before the road narrowed and steepened even further and the names of wildflowers flooded into my mind as I looked around: black-eyed susan, daisy, red clover, cow vetch, butter and eggs, st. john’s wort, hawkweed, buttercup, yarrow.

The air was heavy, and I felt closer to the sun for having climbed just a little higher in elevation, and the smell on the breeze was just plain summer. We stopped and I picked and gathered until I had an armful of a living scrapbook of late June, blooming harmony in gold, purple, white, and pink. We rolled back down the mountain wondering about centuries-old settlements and logging camps, old houses and seasoned barns, ancestors we knew the names of and those we didn’t. The sky darkened and as a heavy, round drop of rain hit the windshield we had just enough time to crank the windows up before the downpour came fast and hard.

We rambled down through hay fields, the mountains in the distance guiding us back east as every bit of grass and flower and roof was drenched in a soaking rain. Back in my driveway we sat a moment to wait out the heaviest of it and a moment or two later as we sat facing west the sun peeked out through parting clouds and cast a glistening glow over the sheets of rain running off the roof of the house and beading on the power line. I looked behind me, right to the dark spot where the sun was facing and just what I’d hoped to see appeared – a perfect rainbow. Low and small, it began on one side of the driveway in the road and arced over to end just 20 feet north of the driveway on the other. I squealed with joy at the luck of it all.

When the rain stopped, we went inside. I grabbed my kitchen scissors and trimmed the bottoms of the bouquet stems and plucked leaves into the trash can. In a jar on the table, those flowers look just like summer. In my mind’s eye, that rainbow still feels just like magic.

This morning the fields and garden are still pleasantly damp and the temperatures have fallen markedly with the high today reaching just 70 degrees. I took two picnic quilts out to the side of the house this morning and chose places to lay them out for photos, the overcast light perfect for capturing the colors of the linen. The first time these picnic quilts will be laid out on summer grass kissed by dew but surely not the last.

I would love to make more of these pinwheel picnic quilts. If the design speaks to you and you want to choose your own colors for a bespoke order, please get in touch!

Both of these picnic quilts are now available in my shop. If you go over to check them out, you’ll notice I’ve given my website a bit of sprucing up this week. It’s not much and it’s not quite done (ignore the about page for just a moment more!) but I’m marching forward to get it finished. Or at least finished enough. Summer calls, after all.

In the coming weeks at my studio table, I hope to work on another picnic quilt or two, and start some blocks for a traditional quilt too. I have two shades of green and a little bit of that punchy orange-red left from making the picnic quilts and together they create a palette that I swear calls to mind an immediate recollection of the smell of fresh, warm tomato leaves.

I am also happy to let you all know I’ve got two upcoming workshops open for registration with the Robert Frost Stone House Museum in Shaftsbury, VT! In just a few weeks on July 12 we’ll spend a few hours crafting pajaki like the one you may recall from my last month’s Busy Hands post. Paper flowers, folk art, and good company on the historic grounds of Robert Frost’s house? It’s just dreamy. I’ll bring snacks. And then in August on Saturday the 2^nd we’ll be exploring cultivating color from the landscape with flowers we’ll forage on the Frost House grounds to do some beginner’s natural dyeing. Sing up for either or both on the Robert Frost House Stone Museum site here.

Last, this week while I work I’m listening to S.G. Goodman’s new album Planting by the Signs. It’s a little moody and kind of hot and sticky and I can’t get enough of it.

Wishing you all a picnic and an armful of wildflowers –

warmly,

Jessica