The cloak was the curtain of my old life and the welcoming folds of everything ahead.
The cloak silhouette in the dawn rays created a strong form, as if the head itself were carried upon a pillar.
When the sleeved cloak became the modern coat, we lost so much elegance in the way we dress.
This cloak warms me nought so much as your smile, yet within it I can feel no chill. The yarn is from the mountain sheep of the north and the fleece lining too. Our grandmothers dip them in a broth of evergreen and let them dry in the sunlight of our rich long summer days. Then come the winter, we are ready and every snowflake is a blessing. So when I wrap it around you, dear one, it is our love that carries you onward and with it, any one of us will protect you.