Here in the Eastern United States, October’s final week welcomes the brilliant colors of hardwood trees, the seasonal bloom of bushy chrysanthemums and the annual return of my favorite cold-weather symbol.
From the soft underbelly of the Himalayan yak to the vulnerable neck of the female human, comes one of the world’s most beautiful and utile inventions—the Pashmina.
The Pashminas were out in their vibrant glory this past weekend, as they should be.
I have several fringed rectangular scarves, though only three qualify as authentic Pashmina. But whether woven of this particular Asian cashmere or its synthetic sister, I’ll wear and enjoy each one throughout the season and, if I’m lucky, maybe even acquire a missing color.
Indulge me, if you would, in an ode:
You, oversized scarf, keep me toasty when you’re folded, twisted, swirled.
You protect me from the breezes, as a blanket, when unfurled.
O, Pashmina, dear woolen protector, without you how could I live?
Let us share our ritual of sorting you by color, à la Roy G. Biv.
Ladies and gentlemen, feel free to add your own verse or salute your favorite article of autumnal attire.
This time of year, I don’t go anywhere, except maybe the beach, without a sweater.
Word Nymph 