When I close my eyes it is dark
Tim went to Costco today. We go to Costco to buy stuff like toilet paper, paper towels, batteries, and garbage bags. But we also always end up buying stuff like the econosize 100-pen sharpie set, or the 12-pack of 8oz bottles of SPF 50 sunscreen, or random Costco-esque nick-nacks that we normally wouldn't buy but do because they're cheap and they're... stuff.
Today's Costco "special purchase" was a set of outdoor coloured-glass garden globes mounted on wrought iron stakes with a tiny solar panel attached to the side of each one and a small light bulb in the middle of the globe. I actually really like them. They're pretty. I'm a sucker for wrought iron in particular, and just about any kind of garden ornamental statue-y type stuff as long as its not bright pink plastic. I'm in love with Tim's mom's backyard, which is filled with a great and eclectic collection of garden ornaments she's collected over the years. They're tucked away under bushes and behind trees and amongst flowers and it's like going on a treasure hunt when you walk back there. It's absolutely enchanting. They even have a little koi pond and a fountain in the middle with stepping stones all around. Her backyard reminds me of the Storybook Gardens my parents used to take me to in Germany all the time as a little girl. Bobbin thinks it's magical too. One day I aspire to have as creative and fun a garden area as she does.
Anyway - so we got these garden globes and Tim placed them around the garden and when Bobbin and I got home from school we noticed them right away. Bobbin got all excited, and it wasn't until she got up close to one and started fiddling with it that I noticed the solar panel on each one. "What's this?" she asked. I explained that it was a special box that would take the light from the sun during the day and save it up. And when the sun went down and it got dark, it would use the light it had saved to make the glass balls glow so they would light up the garden.
Hey, it's mostly true and sounds so much more interesting and magical to a 3-year-old than a lecture on solar power and eco-friendly energy sources would.
"How it will look in the dark?" Bobbin asked. Her style of questioning these days is to make statements that go up at the end. "Well, the glass balls will glow from the light inside, and we'll see pretty colours in the dark amongst the flowers". "It will get dark soon?" Bobbin asked, "Before I got to bed?" She looked hopeful. I explained that it probably wouldn't be dark enough by then. She shrugged and started playing around with other stuff on the deck.
The globes were not forgotten, however. A few minutes later I turned around to see her walking towards the garden, shuffling slowly, brow furrowed as though she had her eyes squeezed shut or was squinting furiously, hands over her face leaving just enough room between the fingers to peek out, assuming her eyes weren't all the way closed. I didn't need to ask; I knew exactly what she was doing. She figured if she closed her eyes she could make it dark enough that the globes would glow. I smothered a giggle and watched silently as she conducted her little experiment. I'm not sure if she eventually gave up out of concern for her precarious footing as she stepped through the garden with her eyes mostly covered, or if she eventually figured out that the sun doesn't go out just because she has her eyes closed. I have no idea but was nonetheless grateful and humoured by this special little glimpse into the workings of my almost-3-year-old's scientific mind.
We are but a speck floating in front of a giant eyeball. When the eye opens we get day. When it shuts we get night.
So simple, really.
Comments
I loved this post.
Posted by Pamela on July 1, 2008 11:05 AM.