When Yarn Hugs Trees

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“Papa! The trees… they’re… colourful?” Dad and I were enjoying a sunny evening at Olympiapark and were descending from Olympiaberg, the tallest hill in the area, when we spotted special trees from afar. They stood together in a ‘herd’ and were donning the prettiest colours which so starkly contrasted the blues of the backdrop.

It was such a calming evening with the surprising visit of the sun and the chirping of cheery birds in the vicinity. It would have been a sin if we were to have stayed in that day – there was so much beauty to take in, so much so that not being smitten by it all proved to be a gargantuan challenge!

I spotted some yellows in the flower beds… the prettiest, warmest, calmest shades of yellow.

I’ve always admired Mother Nature for the giver that she is. She gives and gives and gives, almost as if she possessed maternal instincts – an all-consuming, utterly selfless love.

“A tree gives shade to others and takes nothing for itself. It gives fruits to others but does not itself partake of them. A plant sprouts beautiful flowers and gives joy to others but does not enjoy the beauty by itself. The sun is constantly at work, giving life, light and energy to the world. Does it ask for anything in return? No it performs Nishkama Karma, that is, action without the desire for reward. These are some of the examples of the selflessness of man. If only man watches and studies Nature carefully, he can imbibe a lot of philosophy from it which will help to make him a better person.” – Sathya Sai’s Amrita Varshini

There is no greater example of selfless love than Nature.

If I had all the time in the world, I would spend it contemplating of the beauties of nature that are spread out before me in earth and sky. The green expanses of crops in the fields, cool breezes that waft contentment and joy, the panorama of coloured clouds and the music of birds.

“Mother Nature is always speaking. She speaks in a language understood within the peaceful mind of the sincere observer. Leopards, cobras, monkeys, rivers and trees; they all served as my teachers when I lived as a wanderer in the Himalayan foothills.” – Radhanath Swami

I did a little skip to the trees, hoping I could make my way to them a little faster than Dad so I could steal some quiet time for me and my trees. I went up to every single one of them, running my icy fingers over every stitch, every pattern, every colour, and feeling the ridges of the bark beneath – the way the yarn hugged every inch of the tree, keeping it warm, snug and cosy.

The curious cat in me came out to play that evening after I got home from the breezy sunset walk with Dad. I just had to find out if there was any meaning to the random yarn strung around the trees. I remember having seen them in Rotorua, New Zealand last year in February when I was there backpacking with Niki. The tree stood in front of the The Centre of Arts & Culture and so we (Niki and I) assumed that it must have been an art project that the community embarked on. But now to have seen it blogged by Miriam and having chanced upon it in a park in Munich, I couldn’t help but think that its global presence must mean that its part of a bigger movement than a little Kiwi community’s art project.

It turned out that I was right! Guess what this movement is called!

Y A R N    B O M B I N G !!!

Also termed yarn storming, guerrilla knitting, kniffiti (how cute!), urban knitting or graffiti knitting, yarn bombing is a type of graffiti or street art that employs colourful displays of knitted or crocheted yarn or fibre rather than paint or chalk.

While other forms of graffiti may be expressive, decorative, territorial, socio-political commentary, advertising or vandalism, yarn bombing is essentially about reclaiming and personalising sterile or cold public places.

If You fancy a read, …

Let’s back track a little to when I was still enjoying the warmth of company and the sun at Olympiapark… 

As Dad and I were coming to the end of the route we loved so much, we chanced upon a little man-made ice rink where little kids were playing ice hockey on.

The gear/ attire was so large it looked almost as if it was consuming the little kids whole! They looked so adorable looking like little adults and I couldn’t help but let out a giggle or two as I saw them skating about, assuming the roles of the players in a professional ice hockey game.

About two minutes into watching these ‘little adults’ get their groove on on the ice, the referee suddenly voiced a sudden sharp call to let the red superstar on the far left of the picture below that he was headed for the wrong goal!

Ahhh could this have been more adorable?! :’)

Ckrrrtccchhh, plonkkk, bommm!

A few strides away from the manmade rink led us to a fresh and ever-clean body of water which flows through the park. Sometimes we’d see graceful swans or noisy honking geese floating by. That day, we saw two adventurous ducks, a thirsty dog and a dog owner with the warmest smile.

“On earth there is no heaven, but there are pieces of it.” – Jules Renard

I’m pretty sure I saw a piece of heaven that evening.

More shots of heaven on Flickr.

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One thought on “When Yarn Hugs Trees

  1. Pingback: Remembering: Day 24 of 28 | Stefanie Natascha

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