In the world of clothing, we usually discuss fibre and composition as some of the key aspects of a garment's design, often disconnected from where they come from. Over the past few months, I have focused on the animal that gives us one of the fibres so cherished at ça va de soi: the sheep.

To bring Wool Month to a beautiful close, I wanted to share some of the experiences that have allowed me to learn more about sheep, of course, but also about the shepherds and passionate people in this field who make it possible for us to have access to their wool.

My first encounter with sheep this year took place at Chassagne Farm, located a few kilometres from Toronto, Ontario. Carole Precious, the farm's owner, had prepared a wonderful day to celebrate one of the most important moments of the year: Shearing Day. All attention was on the sheep and the moment when, after a long year of growth, they offer us their fleece.

At Chassagne Farm, a flock of Shetland sheep originating from the Shetland Isles in Scotland is raised. For decades, Carole has carefully ensured the quality of her flock and its breeding, as it is at the origin of all Shetland sheep flocks in North America.

Shearing Day is an occasion worth celebrating every year. After lambing and before the summer heat arrives, the ewes are gently taken one by one to have their wool shorn, resulting in a beautiful fleece ready to be cleaned. Carole explained that she also takes this opportunity to trim the sheep's hooves, avoiding the need to stress them again at another time. Everything is done gently and efficiently, as sheep tend to be nervous.

Once shorn, each fleece is placed on a mesh table, where Carole and her team examine it and assess its quality on a scale of one to five. Suitable for spinning or better suited to felting, Carole knows her fleeces and their qualities. The dirtiest sections are then removed—these can be useful for insulating and covering the garden, for example—and the fleece is folded using a specific technique that makes it possible to identify where the animal's head was. This is where a long process begins, one that will depend on the final use of each fleece. Washing, carding and spinning will take place over the seasons to come.

This year, we were fortunate to have access to three natural shades of wool from Chassagne Farm for the Maille Club, our monthly knitting club, supporting the wonderful collaboration between Chassagne and ça va de soi. Shetland is a fibre that can be spun very finely while retaining a rustic character that reminds us of its origins.

As a knitter myself, I couldn't resist purchasing a few skeins of Shetland wool during my visit to the farm. By now, they have become a beautiful crewneck cardigan.

The second sheep-related project of my year came to life thanks to Biquette Eco-Grazing, right in the heart of Montréal. Many residents are still unfamiliar with the sheep at Maisonneuve Park. These sheep are not raised for their wool, but rather for their role in environmental management. Sheep are grazers, meaning they feed on low-growing vegetation, making them ideal natural “lawnmowers” while also helping to promote biodiversity. Le Repaire Biquette also has an educational mission centred around fibre and everything that surrounds it, offering workshops throughout the summer on felting, natural dyeing and even knitting sessions alongside the sheep.

Following my wonderful introduction to fleeces at Chassagne Farm, I decided to take on a project of my own: caring for a fleece myself, in order to learn about the different processes of washing, carding and spinning. At ça va de soi, educating our team about different fibres and their properties is the first step in introducing them to the house. It is important for us to understand these fibres in order to help them shine, and I decided to take my own education a little further by exploring the processes carried out by our spinners before the fibres reach our boutiques.

This is when Tibo's fleece came into my life. Tibo is one of Biquette's sheep and is most likely a Corriedale. Corriedale sheep produce a relatively fine fibre with a beautiful staple length. Alongside Tibo, I discovered the other side of the fibre's journey: washing it without felting it, while making sure to remove as much lanolin as possible; removing every trace of vegetable matter—straw, grass and tiny leaves; gently carding the fibre without damaging it; and finally, spinning it. A series of exercises that allowed me to develop a deeper connection with the fibre.

It was also at this moment that I realized just how precious fibre truly is. Tibo's fleece weighed 8.2 lbs. After washing and picking—the process of removing accumulated vegetable matter—only 5.3 lbs remained suitable for carding. After doing some research, I learned that it is normal for a fleece to lose approximately 30%, and sometimes up to 50%, of its weight during the first stages of cleaning. From that point on, every fibre became twice as important to me.

There is no final conclusion to the Tibo project just yet. Washing, carding and spinning five pounds of wool takes time—and patience.

The true conclusion of this project lies instead in everything I have learned through the different stages of this long process. Along with a deep love for sheep, I have also developed tremendous respect for everyone involved in the journey of wool: the shepherds, farmers, educators, craftspeople, producers and spinners, as well as those who work with this fibre—both amateur and professional knitters.

Without all these wonderful people, we wouldn't be able to take refuge in our beautiful wool sweaters when winter begins to make its presence known.