I do so enjoy decorating the front of the shop for the winter. Ideas start surfacing in October, as it may take me six weeks to make up my mind.  November first I planted these six crabapples in my pots-a first step.   I took my further cue from Rob, and his client Claudia, this year.  She has been collecting prisms for years; she hangs them from the branches of her trees in the winter. Glass lightcatchers. Her idea enchanted him such that he loaded the shop with all manner of chandelier prisms, raindrops and icicles. 

I fell in love with the idea of the glass drops.  The 30 boxes of inch long glass drops I needed to dress these Coralburst crabs sold out in a matter of days.  Most holiday ornament is manufactured to order; we place most of our orders in January for the following winter season.  No one had these little glass blobs available, in spite of my idea to organize my winter pots around them.

The only drops I could find after days of searching were nine inches long.  At the moment I was willing to give up, a supplier had numbers of these very long drops in stock-I fretted for an hour about the long length; would they blow around and break?  I fretted another hour, and then ordered a case-432.   Funny how the only ornament available can sometimes turn out to be just the right thing.  We attached 410 glass drops to these six trees; it was my job to cut off the tags, and attach long wires.  Four of us spent three hours getting those raindrops up there.  

How they caught the late day light was beautiful. We did try to place them such that a big wind would result in not so many losses. Some design involves risk; who knows what nature might send my way. Should we loose some, so be it.    

At 4:30 in the afternoon, these black and blue drops have my attention. At my request, Buck fished my Mom’s tripod out.  The idea of a tripod for my camera bores me beyond all belief, but I knew I needed one now.  A  photographic record of how the available light would endow these drops would need a hand steadier than mine. 

 By 5:30 pm, my clear skies have gone blue. The drop stalks are almost invisible; the bulbs have gone a curvy black.  What I am paying so much attention to outdoors now is singular to this time of year. I would suggest that if great design is on your mind, first and foremost,tune in to what is around you, and be persistent with what you see; something will come.

At 5:30 this morning, the shop was dark.  I came in very early; I was so excited to see the full moon, and use the tripod.   I could barely see to compose this photograph. I felt like I was talking to her- setting up, fussing and fuming. My camera was entirely still and stable on that tripod I inherited some years ago, but never until today, used.  Thanks a lot, Mom. An impossibly long exposure recorded this. My fence was thrown blue from a security light; the cream colored block building next door makes even more of that blue. The purple sky-gorgeous. Make fun of me if you will, but what I saw this morning made me sing.  Capturing the light-a garden activity I highly recommend.

The drops are heliotrope blue and turquoise with a silver shimmer-what an outfit for these somber crabapples. Now, the tops of the pots need something-what thing?