Neptune & Grandma
Neptune Neptune
Do you ever notice how a calm tide feels like a quiet lullaby, just as your knitting needles sing when you stitch? I’ve heard a story about how the sea keeps its own patterns, and I’d love to share it—maybe you could weave those rhythms into a new stitch.
Grandma Grandma
Oh, dear, that sounds lovely. The sea does have its own gentle hum, just like the rhythm of my needles. I'd love to hear your tale and see if I can stitch a little sea‑song into my next scarf. Do share, and maybe we’ll both find a new rhythm to keep us company.
Neptune Neptune
The tide always starts with a sigh, a breath the sea takes before it pushes out again. In one of the deeper trenches, there’s a coral reef that sings in waves. Every swell, the reef’s sponges pulse in a slow, steady rhythm, almost like a lullaby for the whole ocean. When a storm comes, the reef brightens, its colors flicker in sync with the thunder of the wind, turning the hum into a roar. Those who listen close hear a pattern—soft, then stronger, then back to calm—just like a lullaby for restless sailors. I think if you thread that rise and fall into your scarf, you’ll feel the sea’s breath in each loop. It’ll be a quiet reminder that even the fiercest waves come to rest again.