During the fall, darkness comes earlier and earlier. Around Seattle, darkness can fall before you've come home from work. It becomes more difficult to enjoy a garden by the light of day. That's how I came to know the gardens in my neighborhood in a different way.
Night transforms my neighbors' gardens. It washes away all the subtlety. Few plants stand out.
In the picture above, a mob of plants consumes this house. Undistinguished, these plants revert to wilderness. They take darkness into themselves and turn it against us. Not even a buddha statue and wind ornament can protect this house from the criminals hiding in the bushes. Did you see that branch move?
Are you being followed? These plants separate you from the brightly lit windows where you might find aid.
But a plant hates isolation. The distinguished plant below appears lonely. Its religion is all snuffed out, its baser instincts traded for urban refinement.
Despite these compromises, some individuals show great strength of character at night.
But usually I see loneliness.
Still, a rare few walk the fine line between wilderness and culture. You can still sense their baser instincts. But they have the emotional maturity to stand for something.
Take a walk in your neighborhood one of these nights. You may be surprised when the personality of an otherwise overlooked plant shines through the darkness.
Wow, great post Josh! Guess I need to get out and look around the neighborhood some evening!!!