Twilight in late September
As the sun drops low on the horizon, just enough foliage has fallen to allow bright shafts of sunlight into parts of the garden. Here it's about to disappear behind the roof of the house, casting the near garden into increasing darkness.
Further out in the garden, warm sunset light ignites the grasses--Calamagrostis acutiflora 'Karl Foerester', Panicum 'Shenandoah', Panicum 'Dallas Blues', Miscanthus purpurescens at back. This is a highly transient phenomenon, passing quickly into shade.
Here the light has shifted to the right, passing across another group of plants--Viburnum, more Panicum 'Shenandoah', Scirpus cyperinus, Lysimachia ciliata 'Firecracker', Sanguisorba canadense, and further right, an Iris pseudacorus and the foliage of a clump River Birch--then quickly fading...
... into gradual darkness. Amazing to think I'm actually watching the effect of the rotation of the earth in this little spot of garden--such a large thing manifesting in such a small and lovely way.
Now in shade, Sanguisorba flowers against the dried Scirpus cyperinus ...
... and behind, another ray spotlights a fading stand of Joe Pye Weed.
A little sea of grasses, out of the sun now, in muted colors lit by indirect light of the sky ...
Looking across the garden, where the woodland trees catch the last of the sun in their upper branches ...
Now the house glows with the approach of night. Outside, it's actually darker than it appears; my camera is overcompensating for the low light level, as you can see by comparison with the bright incandescent light inside the house.
Soon it will be completely dark. Soon it will be time to go inside and feel cozy.
Miscanthus 'Silberfeder', still like fireworks, even in dimming indirect light ...
The path to the new paved sitting area appears as I move around the garden ... (yes, the stepping stones need realignment) ...
Striking how colorful, in a subdued way, the mixed grasses and perennials can still be ...
as the earth continues to turn the sun under ...
... and the moon brightens in a darker sky.
The garden is made on a piece of earth, composed of soil, water, minerals, plants, built with labor, logic, and much emotion (passion perhaps?), but much more than that, composed too of space, mass and void, the very air we breath. It's the earth, the sun, the day, the night. Both motion and stillness.
Further out in the garden, warm sunset light ignites the grasses--Calamagrostis acutiflora 'Karl Foerester', Panicum 'Shenandoah', Panicum 'Dallas Blues', Miscanthus purpurescens at back. This is a highly transient phenomenon, passing quickly into shade.
Here the light has shifted to the right, passing across another group of plants--Viburnum, more Panicum 'Shenandoah', Scirpus cyperinus, Lysimachia ciliata 'Firecracker', Sanguisorba canadense, and further right, an Iris pseudacorus and the foliage of a clump River Birch--then quickly fading...
... into gradual darkness. Amazing to think I'm actually watching the effect of the rotation of the earth in this little spot of garden--such a large thing manifesting in such a small and lovely way.
Now in shade, Sanguisorba flowers against the dried Scirpus cyperinus ...
... and behind, another ray spotlights a fading stand of Joe Pye Weed.
A little sea of grasses, out of the sun now, in muted colors lit by indirect light of the sky ...
Looking across the garden, where the woodland trees catch the last of the sun in their upper branches ...
Now the house glows with the approach of night. Outside, it's actually darker than it appears; my camera is overcompensating for the low light level, as you can see by comparison with the bright incandescent light inside the house.
Soon it will be completely dark. Soon it will be time to go inside and feel cozy.
Miscanthus 'Silberfeder', still like fireworks, even in dimming indirect light ...
The path to the new paved sitting area appears as I move around the garden ... (yes, the stepping stones need realignment) ...
Striking how colorful, in a subdued way, the mixed grasses and perennials can still be ...
as the earth continues to turn the sun under ...
... and the moon brightens in a darker sky.
The garden is made on a piece of earth, composed of soil, water, minerals, plants, built with labor, logic, and much emotion (passion perhaps?), but much more than that, composed too of space, mass and void, the very air we breath. It's the earth, the sun, the day, the night. Both motion and stillness.
James Golden