When I crested the hill at 6:50 pm after rolling up the knit line for the night, this tangled vision awaited me. Someone had carried the knitting across the street, presumably so they could drive past without running over it. So I have a new theory for why some drivers look grouchy going by–maybe they helpless about driving over my knitting! I had an hour of wondering if it would rain, and feeling like a giant yellow sculpture in my full-body raincoat. I met a guy named Taz–the first guy who has admitted to knitting, and making “hats and scarves,” at that. He was out walking the dog before it rained. He took some photos of me after asking my permission, and said that his “girl” would probably think it crazy. Later he said his “girl” had 4 girls, so he didn’t find much time to knit these days. Hmm. He had been in the navy, and had sailed on many seas, some the color of my knitting. He said not to visit Chesapeake Bay because it was an ugly, polluted color–folks on the East Coast are not as green as we are here. Janet, the guerrilla knitter, greeted me and speedwalked by. I caught glimpses of neighbors coming home from work…C. said the weather was moody today and couldn’t make up its mind. A woman pulled up in a station wagon with kids in the back and said, “We’ve been wondering what you’re making since we saw you out knitting yesterday. It must be for a cause.” I told her I was knitting a line to the ocean and they drove off smiling.