green yarn

Rumor has it there is a color called green—

—and that I, Beryl, cannot perceive it.

This might true.

Indeed for all I know, it’s everywhere.

How could I tell?

And does it matter?

It’s not like I lose track of my human when we’re out and about.¹

And what do people mean by see and perceive anyway?

Because one way or another I can’t fail to notice—

—that whenever Sarah finishes (or at least stops), one of the endless unsettling tasks on her list²—

—and gets her hands on a bit of this mysterious hue—

—we are both—

—almost instantly—

—content.³

So visible or not, I’m into it.

And that’s all I need to know today.

1. I credit my mother for my green outdoor wardrobe.

2. We’ve been in the midst of a new (to us) kind of busyness the last little while (about which more next week perhaps), so these moments of warm, cozy, dog-and-yarn-centric stillness are treasures indeed.

3. And we’re wishing you contentment as well, however it finds you.