London Fog

It's just shy of dawn. You can scarce see any lamplight past all the bruise-deep darkness and fog. Still, you plod through the mist. Silvery autumnal chill scrapes over your nose and into your lungs, quickly smothering the white staccato plume of your breath.

Further away from central London you go. Over old leaves heavily creased with the late season, the feather-thin puddles reflecting dreary skies. Past Snaresbrook and Magpie Hill, all the way until the trees' shadows grow long, ancient, tinged with rime. Damp wood creaks wearily beneath your boots, and your every step ripples across the lake in echoes of mauve. It takes some time for the ripples to settle, and even then, the forest waters are never truly still.

You slouch into the warmth of your coat and pocket thermos. Dawn will soon come and brighten the lake into blush and liquid gold—but for now, you sit in the quiet, blanketed by a twilit lavender.

Beyond, the London fog rolls by in slow, majestic waves.

Words by Jin C

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Please note that, due to the nature of hand-dyed yarn, no two skeins of yarn will be exactly alike. I recommend alternating skeins every few rows for projects using multiple skeins of the same colorway. If you order multiple skeins of the same colorway, I will do my best to select skeins that are the closest match.

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