“Is this seat taken?” a lovely, musical, feminine voice asked me from above my right shoulder. The hands attached to the voice gestured toward the seat next to mine.
“No, help yourself,” I said with a smile.
She was lovely, clear blue eyes and wild curly hair. She was wearing the most amazing scarf, rainbow striped high-end wool, with little puffballs on it. They looked like flowers.
I looked down at the yarn in my own hands, a lovely variegated pink and purple fingering-weight wool, being worked into a chevron pattern scarf. I could sense her next to me… I wanted to say something, but I paused, suddenly shy. On impulse, I looked up. Our eyes met, and she smiled warmly at me. My fingers were itching with the need to touch, but I kept them safely wound up in my project. I could feel the heat off her body, we were sitting so close. I looked away again, embarrassed.
I could feel her eyes still on me. I glanced up again, caught her eye and her smile. I screwed up all my courage and placed my project in my lap.
“Excuse me,” I said, still shy, “I don’t mean to be rude, only, may I touch… your scarf? The yarn is fascinating.”
With a laugh she unwound the garment and placed it lovingly into my hands. The wool was hand-dyed and spun, from local sheep. The puffball flowers were spun into the yarn before knitting, and embellished with sparkly crystal beads. She told me it had been knit by a local artist. It smelled of her shampoo and wonderful, well-loved fiber.
Satisfied, I returned the scarf to its owner, smiled, and went back to my own work.