One of the pleasures of my new job is that I am riding the Light Rail into downtown Denver. For a city in the middle of the country, Denver has a wonderful transit system, especially if you work downtown. I am able to get on a train and less than 35 minutes later, I get off the train, walk two blocks and I am at work. I get to spend that time reading, listening to the radio, and knitting whizzing by the bumper-to-bumper traffic on the street next to me.
In the short week I have been riding, I have discovered if you want people to talk to you on the train, knit. On nearly every ride to and from, the person sitting across from me has mentioned my knitting.
- If the passenger is a woman, she first tells me she likes the colors (I am still working on my yellow, orange and pink shawl shawl) or asks what I am making. If she is knitter, she tells me what she is working on, or that she wants to get back into knitting, or where do I buy my yarn. If she is not a knitter, she always says she wishes she knew how or is intended to learn soon.
- If the passenger is a man, he says his wife, his mother, or his grandmother is a knitter. They go on to describe the hat, the afghan, the scarf, or the sweater she made for him. You can tell by his face that his memory of his mom or grandma is especially sweet. Maybe that's part of the gift of knitting.
I have always encouraged knitters to KIP (Knit in Public), not just to bring more visibility of knitting, but also to enhance the magic of knitting. I see a lot of people watching me as I knit. It's the same view out the windows every day, changed only the rain, snow or sunshine of the seasons, so I find eyes resting on my hands as I run the changing colors of my self-striping yarn through my fingers and looping around my needles.
I have also learned that if I don't want to talk to anyone, read a book.