Woolen clouds and mountains
Somehow all the handicrafts, wools and threads are very fascinating at the moment. I remember a summer in my grandparent's farm, when my aunt was colouring the wool with plants from the nature. She put them in the hot water and boiled them for hours. When my bigsister got married, she got a blanket made out of the self-coloured wool, woven by my other aunt. A real handmade gift.
It was a real country house with cows, I used to be afraid of the big bull. We took a road through the forest to reach to the summer cottage by the lake. It was the best road I've ever walked. I remember the little bridges made of branches we had to cross, and the big rocks to hide behind.