The Willow ScarfLong ago, in a quiet village nestled between the fynbos covered hills of the Cape, there lived a young woman named Amahle. She was a maker of things not from clay or wood, but from colour, fabric, and memory. Her fingers moved like wind through reeds, always stitching, always shaping. But Amahle was not yet a designer not truly. Her creations were beautiful, yes, but they had no spirit. They did not breathe. One day, as she wandered through the wild