Concrete, Heat, and Seasonal Denial

August in the northern hemisphere doesn’t whisper; it shouts. The air is thick, the sun feels relentless, and even the thought of moving seems like too much. Everything hums with energy — a little frantic, a little heavy.

Around this time of year, I find myself deliberately reaching for coolness. Snowy TV shows. Book covers dusted in frost. Stories that take place in places where sweaters, not shorts, are the everyday norm. Anything to imagine myself somewhere crisp and still, where the air feels fresh again.

Berry Sorbet fits right into that quiet rebellion against the heat.

Like many quilters, I see geometry everywhere. Floors, walls, buildings — they're all potential quilt patterns in disguise. Berry Sorbet began that way, with a glance at an ordinary grid of concrete breeze blocks. Strong lines, square shapes — the bare bones of a design, waiting to find a quilt home.

At first, I mocked up the block quite large, using a peach solid and a blue batik I had on hand. It was... not good. The kind of "ugly" that doesn’t even feel interesting or quirky — just wrong.

I set it aside, pulled out softer pinks and a clean white, and started over. I made the block in two smaller sizes, taped them up on the design wall, and stood back. One was too big. One was too small. Luckily, one was just right. (the Goldilocks zone.)

The blocks sat on the wall for a few days while I let them settle in my mind. At some point — and honestly, I can’t even say exactly when — I realized what was missing. A few small pops of green in the corners would shift the design just enough from strict geometry to something lighter and fresher. The quilt stopped being about breeze blocks, and became something closer to berries in the summer sun.

Berry Sorbet was also a lesson in practical quilting realities: I thought I could get two complete pink blocks out of one fat quarter. I could not (learned the hard way). After a little bit of creative math and some specialty rulers, I managed to eek them out — and the pattern includes instructions for scraps, fat quarters, and yardage, so you don’t have to learn that particular lesson the hard way.

Now, when I look at Berry Sorbet, I don’t see the summer heat pressing down outside. I see the cool white of ice, the soft pinks of fresh berries, and the gentle greens of new leaves. A quilt that feels like sitting in the gentle shade with a cold drink and a quiet mind.

Berry Sorbet became a little bit of cool calm in the middle of summer’s noise.