|A path in the woods, near the big mossy rock|
One of earliest scenes I created is called The Egg. It started as a nothing-special sort of place, near the top of a rise in the woods. Worse than nothing-special, it was unappealing, full of stunted, dead or nearly dead trees. But near the spot was the amazing rock pictured above, a huge boulder covered with moss. I wanted the path to curl around the rock, but those dead trees had to go.
Once gone, we were left with an oval shaped space, shady and peaceful. How to use it?
An egg is oval. So The Egg, it became. A place of beginnings. A place to mark my origin. A surprising touch of Virginia in the midst of a forest in Quebec.
|Tiarella cordifolia at The Egg, a froth of beaten egg whites|
Where is Virginia in this froth of white? Around the edge, like a protective shell. Boxwood. Little green egg drops, perfectly round.