- Feb 5, 2002
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In the middle of a bustling city lies a quiet garden. And in that garden is nestled a small Victorian building of brick and stone. I meander my way through this garden’s paths on silent, sun drenched mornings to unlock the door and await visitors. It is one of life’s magical moments to unlock that door and stand all alone in the doorway looking in.
This is one Henry Shaw’s library and herbarium. It has been restored to its original Victorian charm with dark wooden and glass cabinets, and graced by a ceiling painted exquisitely with the flora and fauna found throughout the garden. All of the Garden’s cherished antique, porcelain birds are here looking as though they could fly if the cabinet doors were suddenly opened. Solemn portraits of men in wigs, who seem like they would be quite capable of smiling if released from the ornate, heavy frames, line the walls. They are famous botanists, one and all. I walk silently around the room and breathe in the history of lovely things.
Continued below.
www.dappledthings.org
This is one Henry Shaw’s library and herbarium. It has been restored to its original Victorian charm with dark wooden and glass cabinets, and graced by a ceiling painted exquisitely with the flora and fauna found throughout the garden. All of the Garden’s cherished antique, porcelain birds are here looking as though they could fly if the cabinet doors were suddenly opened. Solemn portraits of men in wigs, who seem like they would be quite capable of smiling if released from the ornate, heavy frames, line the walls. They are famous botanists, one and all. I walk silently around the room and breathe in the history of lovely things.
Continued below.
What’s in a name? — Dappled Things
Denise Trull on the adventure and possibility inherent in poetic naming
www.dappledthings.org
