Breezy Star Quilt
Tonight, at the edge of the field,
I stood very still, and looked up,
and tried to be empty of words.
What joy was it, that almost found me?
What amiable peace?
/ mary oliver
If the summer breeze were a quilt, this pretty lady would be it. She features lovely light emerald green and white striped stars, entirely hand quilted. She is heavily hand stitched—her quilter put so much time into this. Zoom in on the photos and you’ll see the gorgeous, intricate hand stitching. She has light batting and feels crisp to the touch. She has a few tiny spots of discoloration, but otherwise is in good vintage condition. Washed and hung in the fresh mountain air to dry, she is clean and ready for her new home.
Measurements: 91.5” x 67.5”
All quilts come with a muslin tag noting any known history, and an archival Micron pen for you to add yours.
10% of profits from this sale will go towards Gray Panthers, a US-based advocacy organization for the elderly whose mission is to combat ageism and achieve social justice through intergenerational collaboration.
Note on antique/vintage quilts: Many of the quilts we sell have been loved, slept under, washed, sunshine dried, taken on picnics, slept on underneath the stars, and lived lifetimes before arriving at our doorstep. You can expect to see repairs made by later generations, fraying around the edges or in certain blocks, discoloration or yellowing, cotton/wool batting—or as we like to call them, tiny sheep—peeking through. They are imperfect, but their imperfections are charming to us and we hope you feel the same. They are reminders to us of their old age and the history to which they've been a witness. We try our best to note any imperfections, but it’s possible we might miss one here and there. Well-crafted, handmade antique quilts in their original form are becoming scarcer, and we believe it's vital that we preserve them and continue to love them, imperfections and all.
Because these quilts are one-of-a-kind and we are a tiny enterprise, we do not accept returns; please review all photos and the description carefully and ask any questions you may have prior to purchasing.
—
Here in my head, language
keeps making its tiny noises.
How can I hope to be friends
with the hard white stars
whose flaring and hissing are not speech
but pure radiance?
How can I hope to be friends
with the yawning spaces between them
where nothing, ever is spoken?
Tonight, at the edge of the field,
I stood very still, and looked up,
and tried to be empty of words.
What joy was it, that almost found me?
What amiable peace?
Then it was over, the wind
roused up in the oak trees behind me
and i fell back, easily.
Earth has a hundred thousand pure contraltos-
even the distant night bird
as it talks threat, as it talks love
over the cold, black fields.
Once, deep in the woods,
I found the white skull of a bear
and it was utterly silent-
and once a river otter, in a steel trap,
and it too was utterly silent.
What can we do
but keep on breathing in and out,
modest and wiling, and in our places?
Listen, listen, I’m forever saying.
Listen to the river, to the hawk, to the hoof,
to the mockingbird, to the jack-in-the-pulpit-
then I come up with a few words, like a gift.
Even as now
Even as the darkness has remains the pure, deep darkness.
Even as the stars have twirled a little, while I stood here,
looking up,
one hot sentence after another.
/ mary oliver
Tonight, at the edge of the field,
I stood very still, and looked up,
and tried to be empty of words.
What joy was it, that almost found me?
What amiable peace?
/ mary oliver
If the summer breeze were a quilt, this pretty lady would be it. She features lovely light emerald green and white striped stars, entirely hand quilted. She is heavily hand stitched—her quilter put so much time into this. Zoom in on the photos and you’ll see the gorgeous, intricate hand stitching. She has light batting and feels crisp to the touch. She has a few tiny spots of discoloration, but otherwise is in good vintage condition. Washed and hung in the fresh mountain air to dry, she is clean and ready for her new home.
Measurements: 91.5” x 67.5”
All quilts come with a muslin tag noting any known history, and an archival Micron pen for you to add yours.
10% of profits from this sale will go towards Gray Panthers, a US-based advocacy organization for the elderly whose mission is to combat ageism and achieve social justice through intergenerational collaboration.
Note on antique/vintage quilts: Many of the quilts we sell have been loved, slept under, washed, sunshine dried, taken on picnics, slept on underneath the stars, and lived lifetimes before arriving at our doorstep. You can expect to see repairs made by later generations, fraying around the edges or in certain blocks, discoloration or yellowing, cotton/wool batting—or as we like to call them, tiny sheep—peeking through. They are imperfect, but their imperfections are charming to us and we hope you feel the same. They are reminders to us of their old age and the history to which they've been a witness. We try our best to note any imperfections, but it’s possible we might miss one here and there. Well-crafted, handmade antique quilts in their original form are becoming scarcer, and we believe it's vital that we preserve them and continue to love them, imperfections and all.
Because these quilts are one-of-a-kind and we are a tiny enterprise, we do not accept returns; please review all photos and the description carefully and ask any questions you may have prior to purchasing.
—
Here in my head, language
keeps making its tiny noises.
How can I hope to be friends
with the hard white stars
whose flaring and hissing are not speech
but pure radiance?
How can I hope to be friends
with the yawning spaces between them
where nothing, ever is spoken?
Tonight, at the edge of the field,
I stood very still, and looked up,
and tried to be empty of words.
What joy was it, that almost found me?
What amiable peace?
Then it was over, the wind
roused up in the oak trees behind me
and i fell back, easily.
Earth has a hundred thousand pure contraltos-
even the distant night bird
as it talks threat, as it talks love
over the cold, black fields.
Once, deep in the woods,
I found the white skull of a bear
and it was utterly silent-
and once a river otter, in a steel trap,
and it too was utterly silent.
What can we do
but keep on breathing in and out,
modest and wiling, and in our places?
Listen, listen, I’m forever saying.
Listen to the river, to the hawk, to the hoof,
to the mockingbird, to the jack-in-the-pulpit-
then I come up with a few words, like a gift.
Even as now
Even as the darkness has remains the pure, deep darkness.
Even as the stars have twirled a little, while I stood here,
looking up,
one hot sentence after another.
/ mary oliver
Tonight, at the edge of the field,
I stood very still, and looked up,
and tried to be empty of words.
What joy was it, that almost found me?
What amiable peace?
/ mary oliver
If the summer breeze were a quilt, this pretty lady would be it. She features lovely light emerald green and white striped stars, entirely hand quilted. She is heavily hand stitched—her quilter put so much time into this. Zoom in on the photos and you’ll see the gorgeous, intricate hand stitching. She has light batting and feels crisp to the touch. She has a few tiny spots of discoloration, but otherwise is in good vintage condition. Washed and hung in the fresh mountain air to dry, she is clean and ready for her new home.
Measurements: 91.5” x 67.5”
All quilts come with a muslin tag noting any known history, and an archival Micron pen for you to add yours.
10% of profits from this sale will go towards Gray Panthers, a US-based advocacy organization for the elderly whose mission is to combat ageism and achieve social justice through intergenerational collaboration.
Note on antique/vintage quilts: Many of the quilts we sell have been loved, slept under, washed, sunshine dried, taken on picnics, slept on underneath the stars, and lived lifetimes before arriving at our doorstep. You can expect to see repairs made by later generations, fraying around the edges or in certain blocks, discoloration or yellowing, cotton/wool batting—or as we like to call them, tiny sheep—peeking through. They are imperfect, but their imperfections are charming to us and we hope you feel the same. They are reminders to us of their old age and the history to which they've been a witness. We try our best to note any imperfections, but it’s possible we might miss one here and there. Well-crafted, handmade antique quilts in their original form are becoming scarcer, and we believe it's vital that we preserve them and continue to love them, imperfections and all.
Because these quilts are one-of-a-kind and we are a tiny enterprise, we do not accept returns; please review all photos and the description carefully and ask any questions you may have prior to purchasing.
—
Here in my head, language
keeps making its tiny noises.
How can I hope to be friends
with the hard white stars
whose flaring and hissing are not speech
but pure radiance?
How can I hope to be friends
with the yawning spaces between them
where nothing, ever is spoken?
Tonight, at the edge of the field,
I stood very still, and looked up,
and tried to be empty of words.
What joy was it, that almost found me?
What amiable peace?
Then it was over, the wind
roused up in the oak trees behind me
and i fell back, easily.
Earth has a hundred thousand pure contraltos-
even the distant night bird
as it talks threat, as it talks love
over the cold, black fields.
Once, deep in the woods,
I found the white skull of a bear
and it was utterly silent-
and once a river otter, in a steel trap,
and it too was utterly silent.
What can we do
but keep on breathing in and out,
modest and wiling, and in our places?
Listen, listen, I’m forever saying.
Listen to the river, to the hawk, to the hoof,
to the mockingbird, to the jack-in-the-pulpit-
then I come up with a few words, like a gift.
Even as now
Even as the darkness has remains the pure, deep darkness.
Even as the stars have twirled a little, while I stood here,
looking up,
one hot sentence after another.
/ mary oliver