There is a spot behind our nursery where Paul has envisioned a folly. Over the last 20 years we have bantered about various ideas, never really settling on one…….until now. Somehow, in planning festivities for our 85th year, the folly crystallized onto paper, and is slowly morphing into reality.
Which is an oxymoron because follies aren’t real…..they are fanciful bits of architecture that don’t really belong. Doors that don’t open, structures that don’t make sense, crumbling turrets and winding walls. They can be fairy tale-like with whimsical features. And they must not be perfect…..which adds another layer of difficulty when your stone masons are excellent builders. One must coax them into laying crooked stones, ” loco” as we affectionately call them.
Mounds of dirt must be moved, sculpting a terrain that implies an abandoned and windswept land. Then we gather overgrown and gnarly plant material, (we love this part) placing it all so the folly looks time worn. Vines cling to the ruins, cloaking them in mystery.
There are inhabitants that must move in…..at night of course. A red cap peeks through the Gnome’ s Cottage….is it the gnome? An owl perches on the Castle Keep. Something is grazing in the Sheep’s Meadow….sheep perhaps? Chimes must be hung in the Bell Tower and the faux Bois must be planted.
Join us as we begin revealing our folly!