Garden Lighting: Pre-Hailstorm-Sky-Color
We are closing in on completing the Contemplative Garden. I am helping with the installation myself, which is different for me: getting muddy, wet, dirty, sweaty and so sore! But it's more fulfilling than ever because I have put my heart and soul into creating this tiny jewel-like garden. I almost don't want to finish! ;-)
Saturday I was watering and cleaning up over there, and thought I would shoot a few quick photos. I could tell we were in for a storm and the light -- the color of the sky -- was so beautiful! I was clicking away when a huge hail stone hit my camera body (fortunately not the lens) and before I could blink I was being pelted by hundreds of hard stones. Got in the car in a hurry!
Made me think of garden lighting. Here was a storm adding a whole new dimension of landscape lighting to this garden.
I always love the way the air seems to take on a thickness right before a big storm -- an actual color, rather than just a clearness. Hailstorms bring their own pre-storm color, the air tinged with a visceral yellow against dark blue-black clouds. Usually hailstorms hit us on early summer afternoons: sun close to the horizon slices through a hole in the clouds. That sunlight mixes with a palpable turbulence, an electric charge on the back of my neck, a yellowish caste in the air - it's enough of a warning for any soft-bodied creature to get under cover. And yet ...
And yet when hail stones threaten, that's when I most want to be out in the garden, taking it all in - it's as if the storm brings super-saturated colors to the ordinary landscape. It's exciting. A little dangerous. Sensual. Every color full of every possibility.
Right before a big storm I can clearly see -- and feel -- that color is made of light.
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Above, more pix from this garden installation. Click on any of the photos to see a larger version, and from there, you can see the entire album. Enjoy!
10 Comments:
Very serene and lovely. Wonderful job.
I admire your passion for this project. It looks magical-- especially considering what it looked like before. I grew up in that house and I can't wait to see the garden this July. I hear the gate is a work of art.
I also grew up in that house and you did an excellent job! I will be seeing the house in person in July. It looks like a great place to relax and unwind.
Maureen, I know you are a busy busy woman, but I would like to know your secrets. If you want to play, check out my blog!
oh, duh ... pepek ... i just figured out what that comment meant. i'll try to tell my secrets next week. i do want to play - but have too much work to do right at the moment.
To Anonymous I and Anonymous II: I hope when you see the way your childhood home and garden have changed that you feel comfortable and happy there. That it is changed in a good way. I also hope to meet both of you in person in July. You might have to wear a paper bag on your heads, though, if you want to remain anonymous. (heheh)
Tammy, thank you -- I know you appreciate the feeling of a quiet garden. You'd love sitting or napping in this one.
Geez! I just saw the weather on the news. What's going on there? Wind? Hail? Snow???
hi maureen, it's your tribe friend vanessa ;)
lovely work here, i really love it. i'm also so so busy right now (in a great way) and SORE from doing installations (and completely neglecting my blog... so i'm inspired to see you keeping up on yours!)
OK, so, John is your son, along with Josh and Gabe, and Mick? And John and Gabe share a birthday, 5 years apart. Am I getting this? I mean, I'd sort of hate to go into the restaurant downtown and ask to see John Shaunessey (is that spelled right? It looks wrong...) if his name is, you know, something else.
Oh, did I tell you before that I think your garden is magnificent! And I looked at all the pictures!
You've done a beautiful job creating a serenity just outside the door! We don't have stones in our stretch of MS unless we buy them!
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