I wasn't trying to be artsy. The sun was going down. Let's get that out of the way.
For a time, I emailed Taylor's (as Jack suggested) every couple weeks in an attempt to learn more about this knife and more specifically the wood used on it. I am still waiting for a reply, although at this point, not with optimism. That's fine. If I have a super power, it is tolerating ambiguity. I don't get wound up over loose ends.
Two pictures seems somewhat self indulgent. I believe I should be able to capture the essence of a given knife on a particular day in one. That thought, written out, seems perhaps even more self indulgent than posting two pictures. Maybe I should get some ice cream and throw away the lids and shove all my lambs in my pockets at once and jump around and hoot until the dogs start barking. Maybe I should think about it and not do it. Sweet restraint.
I took the second picture because I'm not sure if Harvey or myself ever portrayed what a portly little chonk this lamb is. Now, maybe I have. "She THICCC," in the vernacular of the day. "Thunder Thighs," in the vernacular of the 1980s and my youth. A "Big'Un," in the vernacular of Al Bundy. Okay, enough of that.