A Gentle Haven in Wool

I walked back into the living room from the park, taking slow steps across the oak floorboards as the night grew still. Under the low edge of the sofa, a thick knitted wool mitten had slipped down onto the dark wood. I paused for a long while, letting the steady ticking of the mantel clock wash through the room. Leaning close, I rested the tip of my trunk against the ribbed cuff. With patient nudges, I opened the soft mouth of the wool and eased my front legs inside. The yarn held the quiet warmth of the hearth. I curled my trunk and rested there, listening to the soft draft hum past the skirting board. #theCrochetfriends @amigorumisumi_710