This sandy beach was strewn with driftwood punctuated by a long, dark line of dried rockweed- a gift from the last tide as it receded. Simple breathing produced the tang of ocean salt on the tongue. Amidst the short oceanside brush, narrow & branching footpaths delicately threaded their way through the bare shrubs. Twists and turns wound themselves around small, private campsites as cozy as rabbit burrows before quietly revealing a singly marked trailhead. The raw skies above rushed and jumbled with the wind, toying with loose leaves as a warning that spring is not always gentle. Despite the moody weather, the path was there. Twisting, winding, the trail skipped joyfully over roots and dipped beneath great fallen conifers, then burst from the treeline onto rugged rock. The stratified shale rose starkly from the water, ledging and lunging over the sea below.

Mitts are worked seamlessly in the round from the bottom up.

Pattern is both charted & written, with two available sizes to choose from.