Garden Spirits

I suppose I've made a short of shrine in the back yard by placing the folate head garden sculpture I purchased last September underneath the Child Fort / arbor.   At the time, I was thinking that I might somehow attach it to a stone pillar and set it back in the laurels or other part of the shrubbery, but I think I'll see how well the grape vines grow around it next Summer.  

Who this shrine is to remains to be seen.  I'm hesitant to say "The Green Man," because of all of the Victorian back-projection of a literary figure onto mediaeval baptismal font carvings.  Perhaps attaching pink triangle earrings, or finding pink triangular tiles as a backing would give a contemporary gay flavor that would help invoke the gay male divine.  If I were feeling particularly daring or motivated enough, I might try to find some reproduction of an ancient Fascinus from Pompeii to hang near by (John promptly loses time reviewing Etsy sites...).

When I took down the Writing Pavilion for the Winter, I discovered several packets of spider's eggs (and a few attending arachnid mothers).  I used a dried stem of a poppy to deposit the silken wraps of eggs in the narrow space behind the heavy stone god's head, which felt like something out of a story.  Maybe after hordes of spiders have emerged in the spring it will have more of the numinous about it.  

If only there were a stronger feeling that the folate head were a mask that the growing things in our yard are borrowing, but right now it feels like a concrete idol.  In contrast, the Sphinx in the garden feels more like something with a secret, even if it's only knowledge about finding shade from the goldenrod.  

Now all I need is a 3ft x 4ft x 5ft slab of obsidian or basalt or hematite and I'll be able to have midnight rituals... or... something... although, now that I think about it more, it would probably be just me brooding in the candle light and shooing the cats off of it while secretly imagining a bacchanal before reprising Dot's song, "...if I were a folly girl."

Oh well.