This one is for my son’s birthday. He works in micro-hydro engineering. The willow was collected from a small tree modified by those wild engineers, the Tay beavers. I tied up some of their wood-chippings to go with the basket.
Hydro Basket
Author: Jan Hendry
Sea basket
Yesterday morning I found this beautiful wee thing on the rocks near Elie Ness Lighthouse:
A disc of straw, about 20cm across, its two sides neatly joined in a plaited pattern. A lid from a mermaid’s picnic basket?? It was lying below the high tide mark and still damp.
I lifted the disc, thinking I’d take it home and maybe incorporate it into one of my own baskets. Then I felt a lump in the middle, between the woven layers. It felt round – like a periwinkle. Was something living in there? Something that had moved in when it was a tiny plankton creature?
There was no way to find out without damaging the lid. I decided not to take it home, then spun it back into the sea.
Black Loch basket
These are the twigs I collected three weeks ago from the roadside near Black Loch: honeysuckle, willow, blackthorn and snowberry:
Here’s their basket, including goosegrass rope, jute and beeswax:
Heather and homespun
Heather plants a few years old are like small trees. They have tough gnarly trunks which divide into springy twigs and tiny leaves. I’ve read that in the Hebrides they made rope from heather. They must have had great patience, and big hands.
Learn and teach
Today I travelled to Falkirk with Caren Gilbert to contribute to an International Women’s Day Celebration sponsored by Central Scotland African Union.
It was a very pleasant afternoon. We learned about the beautiful African textiles on display round the hall, sang together, watched a demonstration of classical dance from Northern India, did some dancing ourselves (feeling a bit clunky dressed in trousers and boots) and were treated to a fab lunch of African food.
After lunch there were crafts tasters and creative writing on offer and I showed my group the method I’ve been using to make stitched baskets, using assorted bendy twigs and fibres. I think everyone enjoyed the process. We heard the silence of deep concentration anyway!
Thanks Meg for the invitation to take part and thanks Caren for suggesting me to Meg.
#Filmpoem: Lochmill in Two Weathers by Kyra Clegg & Kathleen Jamie
#Filmpoem: Lochmill in Two Weathers by Kyra Clegg & Kathleen Jamie.
Being a newcomer to WordPress, I’m hoping I’m not breaching any etiquette by posting this link to other people’s work. I love it and wanted to share!
Alder and willow
Yesterday we visited an alder carr, a tiny stretch of nearly-natural river and woodland in lowland Perthshire. It was alive with small birds and there were signs that beavers had visited not long ago.
I like to imagine that the River Eden would have been like this once, winding its way through the Howe of Fife.
Tonight I finished an alder basket, lined with willow:
Goosegrass rope
I made a short length of rope to carry home these roadside twigs. This goosegrass was brittle and much more fragile than than my first sample, maybe more weathered by frost and wind. The twigs will make a colourful mini-basket. My conscience is clear about cutting them, they were growing out into the road, a danger to cyclists and passing cars 🙂
Star moss and cherry bark
Monday’s weaving photographed against the light, making ochres and black
Goosegrass contd.
Here’s a photo of a lady gorilla preparing a goosegrass snack. She was photographed in Rwanda by Bill Wilson. Bill says that the plant is probably the same species of sticky willie as ours. He took the photograph on the edge of farmland – it’s likely we have given them quite a few of our agricultural weeds.
Jan Hendry 