My Garden Gnome
My one surviving garden gnome needs to share some of the Moosey Garden limelight. He leads such a boring life - well, compared to the inhabitants of an underwater gnome village in the Lake District. Goodness me!
Bricks, Stones, and Gnome
I haven't really had the nerve to write much about my solitary male garden gnome. Gnome articles attract a certain type of reader, and might damage my garden integrity. Not that I'm ashamed of him, you understand. I consider him rather an arty gnome - though he probably wouldn't get a place in the 'essential inspirations - 16 new works of garden art' feature of my new gardening magazine.
A Tasteful, Stylish Gnome?
My garden gnome may not be tasteful and stylish, but he certainly represents the taste and style rebel in me. Visitors are left with the impression of an enigmatic gardener, not afraid to tweak gardening traditions... And I've tried very hard to take tasteful and stylish photographs of him in a variety of suitable poses.
My gnome is a creature (that word seems a little unfair) of habit. He has some set seasonal moves around the garden. In spring he's always in the creamy white daffodils and unfurling catmint by the house patio.
In summer he usually guards the small pot collection on the pond decking - though this year he's rather taken to my new rockery. Then in Autumn it's usually back to the patio (where I can keep an eye on him) to lurk under the Wisteria as its leaves turn yellow and drop (gently, on him).
From time to time in winter I lose him in suspicious circumstances. 'Have you seen the gnome?' I ask the visiting Adult Son of Moosey. 'He's gone walk-about again...' Ever since my (adult) children confessed to using my last gnome as a cricket wicket I've had to be on the alert.
I worry sometimes that there's only one of him. Solitude can be very boring for a garden gnome - and I haven't really provided any of the usual garden accessories. There's no plaster mushroom to sit on, no plastic fishpond, or pink flamingo to poke fun at. As an only-child myself I should know the problems that only-gnomes might encounter.
Garden Gnome in the Rockery
My gnome is a solid, dependable, bachelor gnome. His clothes may be faded and peeling, but he has survived the ravages of snow, wind, sun, rain and hail, not to mention a urinating Taj-dog. His artistic pretensions may have been ridiculed, but he's still not afraid to put it about in the garden!
I wonder - do gnomes enjoy being underwater?