Monday, July 13, 2009
I don't much care for electric lighting in the garden, or so I'm trying to convince myself.
We have heaps of lights under the back porch, tangled cords in black and green with broken or battered globes that we've collected from sidewalks and trash cans over the years.
I wouldn't be at all surprised to find more in the attic. What's in the attic requires a blog of its own.
At some point in time there was the intent to install these lights, creating an artistic wash over the cherry tree, spot lighting the potted palm. That sort of thing.
Electricity is not something I deal with. That was one of my primary reasons for marrying Gregory, not that he's moving any too swiftly on this project. One of the strings dates to 1984.
Instead we have candles, which I've decided (in some desperation) that I prefer.
There's a candelabra in the bird bath, votives flanking the garage doors, and tea lights in two Chinese lanterns that dangle above the borders. The photo on this posting is from a painting by John Singer Sargent, a gaggle of Victorian girls lighting Chinese lanterns in the garden as evening falls. (Don't you love it? Long cotton sleeves, matches, children...).
But the light through the translucent shades is hauntingly lovely, as is my garden when I light my own.
Mine are not paper, they're some kind of plasticized stuff that's near enough, but that's a good thing since they're left out all the time and can weather the weather. One's bright yellow, the other's vivid orange, and both act as eye level flowers when they're not illuminating the garden.
That space at eye level is a prime spot to fill with something colorful. Border flowers are generally below, and flowering trees above, so suspending something in the mid space adds a little pop of excitement.