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    The first horse was a mess...

      It was my eldest daughter who first suggested I start knitting horses. I’ve always loved animals, plants, insects, flowers, trees—everything about nature. Sometimes I take the bus alone, without any plan. Whether it’s somewhere I know or a place I’ve never been, if it draws me in, I just keep going back. I look at the plants and insects over and over, and each time, I find something new that makes my heart race a little. 

      Maybe that’s why I’m still knitting horses. I never get tired of it. Every time feels different. When I hold the yarn and count the stitches—one, two, three—it simply feels good. The thread seems to come alive in my hands, turning into horses that move and breathe on their own. 

      I don’t know how long I’ll keep doing this. It still feels unfinished. But when the time comes—when it fㅉㅉeels complete—the last one I want to make will be an endangered gray zebra (I’ve always wanted to try).