Garden objects, part I
Don’t try this at home. Garden gnomes in their native habitat (Dunster, GB).
Let’s get right to it, shall we?
First, it was the frogs. “I have 8 (eight) frogs in the garden,” she said. “I ask the kids if they can find them all.”
Then there were the boots. “I have 8 (eight) boots hidden in the garden,” she said. "I ask them if they can find them all.”
OK. But why must it be eight? Why must it be frogs? Why must it be boots?
Before I can answer those questions, I first have to know:
When you have a garden that’s filled with scent, color, design, and amazing feats of horticultural prowess, why, in the name of god, why, would you feel it necessary to top it all off with a sculpture of an insipid girl child, holding out her arms as if to assume responsibility for all the beauty created and to gather it all in.
I don’t get it. If at all possible, we should try our best to keep our gardens free of inanimate creatures and extraneous objects. We don’t though.
It’s a fine line.