Who
knew that Longwood Gardens in Kennett Square, PA, famous for its indoor
and outdoor flora, would have a plethora of delightful benches? I
passed many as Alison, Grace and I wandered the grounds, settling on
this grand stone one as my official bench of the week.
But we weren’t there for the benches. We were trying to get into a holiday mood.
I have a like/dislike relationship with Christmas traditions. Over the years, we’ve committed to less and less of the usual rituals, dropping by the wayside baking cookies, Christmas cards, and regularly submitting to holiday music. I’m afraid that if Alison didn’t drive the decorating, I’d cut a sprig of holly from the neighbor’s tree and call it a day.
In fact, I’m finding myself increasingly allergic to rituals of all kinds. For a theme-and-variation guy, traditions feel like the cage I’m left to pace in. Same songs. Same movies. Same sappy sentiments.
Can we say, “Bah, humbug, children?”
But Longwood taught me something. This time of year has a tremendous potential for infusing beauty into one’s life, if even just for a month. (Hear that, Madison Avenue? One month.) As I walked and looked at the displays – with both an eye and a camera lens – I felt my senses filling up with color and texture and design.
Then, as I was just cropping photos, it hit me: traditions are a frame for the beauty. They give us cause to decorate and the pause to appreciate. Just like a frame hones in our vision to just the key elements the artist or photographer wants us to see, holiday traditions frame up those simple joys, those fundamental truths that usually get swept up in the everyday. They put a shine and a sparkle on them.
So, in the coming days, I’m going to share with you my framing of the beauty that I saw – not so much the outdoor splendor of lit trees, floating on water.
Or the lavish color of the fountain show.
But the small, touches of design and color, made (hopefully) more delightful because of the framing. May they add a few moments of beauty to your holiday season.
But we weren’t there for the benches. We were trying to get into a holiday mood.
I have a like/dislike relationship with Christmas traditions. Over the years, we’ve committed to less and less of the usual rituals, dropping by the wayside baking cookies, Christmas cards, and regularly submitting to holiday music. I’m afraid that if Alison didn’t drive the decorating, I’d cut a sprig of holly from the neighbor’s tree and call it a day.
In fact, I’m finding myself increasingly allergic to rituals of all kinds. For a theme-and-variation guy, traditions feel like the cage I’m left to pace in. Same songs. Same movies. Same sappy sentiments.
Can we say, “Bah, humbug, children?”
But Longwood taught me something. This time of year has a tremendous potential for infusing beauty into one’s life, if even just for a month. (Hear that, Madison Avenue? One month.) As I walked and looked at the displays – with both an eye and a camera lens – I felt my senses filling up with color and texture and design.
Then, as I was just cropping photos, it hit me: traditions are a frame for the beauty. They give us cause to decorate and the pause to appreciate. Just like a frame hones in our vision to just the key elements the artist or photographer wants us to see, holiday traditions frame up those simple joys, those fundamental truths that usually get swept up in the everyday. They put a shine and a sparkle on them.
So, in the coming days, I’m going to share with you my framing of the beauty that I saw – not so much the outdoor splendor of lit trees, floating on water.
Or the lavish color of the fountain show.
But the small, touches of design and color, made (hopefully) more delightful because of the framing. May they add a few moments of beauty to your holiday season.
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