In Ireland there are so many sorts of rain, and so many ways to describe the wetness.
At one end of the scale there’s the soft day, where the rain’s so light and stealthy that you never see a raindrop and yet end up damp all over. After a week or two of this barely-rain you’re still not actually wet wet, but still suspect that you’ve become a fertile medium for moss.
At the other end of the rain scale you can be soaked to the skin almost instantly. It can be lashing, pelting, pouring, hammering - or the weirdly threatening raining forks and knives.
And that’s just in English - in the Irish language there are just as many way to describe the wetness. Possibly my favourite is fluich salach, which translates as filthy wet.
Here’s a shawl that celebrates the extremes of the rain. It starts with the heavy raindrops that will leave you soaked to the skin in moments. The weather clears a bit, to just a soft day. And we end up with an edging of raindrops glistening in the emerging sunlight.
This is a knit designed in, and designed for, challenging times. The knitting is gentle and rhythmic, with just the simplest of lace stitches to break the monotony of a rainy day. It’s also a knit about homesickness. As borders closed and travel back to see my family became a near-impossibility I took some comfort in knitting myself back to Ireland - and Irish weather. I hope this shawl gives you some comfort too, both in the knitting and the wearing.