Solar Light Enchantment

Night begins to fall and the solar lights blink on one at a time, it’s a reliable progression. First is the light bulb replica, the incandescent variety basically unchanged since the days of Edison. It hangs from the bare branches of our Asian pear tree. Below the light bulb are the dragonfly and hummingbird, these usually go on next. They each sit at the end of a bendable stalk and can be twisted into any position. These lights change color about every 30 seconds, now green, now red, now blue, back to red, it’s a mesmerizing transition to watch. Two globe lights which are stuck into the ground beneath our dead plum tree come on next. Like a fortune teller’s crystal ball or perhaps the tip of Gandalf’s staff they are chameleon-like in the way their colors shape shift. Maybe if I look close enough, I can see my future inside of one. 

A string of white lights winds around the trunk of the plum tree, when these blink on they help to animate this tree which has given us hundreds and hundreds of pounds of fruit when it was still alive and bearing. I think of the jars of jam that Carol made and the sweet, juicy flavor of a warm plum on a hot summer day. I miss the fruit but am forever grateful for what this stately grandmother has given to us. Other solar lights hang from its brittle, moss-covered branches. One is a hot air balloon replica, when it blinks on undulating tongues of faux red flames fill the balloon. It almost appears as if it’s about to rise up into the sky. Think of The Wizard beckoning Dorothy to join him as he prepares to depart Oz on his noble quest to explore distant lands. Of course Dorothy misses her flight so The Wiz has to go it alone. A white lace, bell-shaped lantern casts a ghostly, circular glow onto the ground below the tree. This light has been going on faithfully now for several years with no sign of stopping. A dead tree is a forlorn sight but by adorning it with all of these lights, our once proud Santa Rosa plum tree comes to life every time the sun goes down.

In a garden bed near the base of the tree are another trio of lights on bendable stalks. A daisy is flanked by a butterfly and a hummingbird, both vying for its sweet, life-giving nectar. These too are color shape shifters. And there are still more lights. The crossbar of our kids old swing set is draped with a row of small, yellow lights. It’s been many years since any swinging has happened on this set. We now use it as a frame for several winter garden boxes. If I squint just so and the wind is blowing just right, I can still see and hear Sam and Denali squealing with delight as they fly through the air in tandem on their swings. I can’t imaging that we’ll ever take this frame down.

The last light to blink on is the brightest and longest lasting of all. It is bell shaped and lace like the one in the plum tree but twice as large and steel grey in color. This light hangs from the roof of our deck and casts a wide blue spotlight onto the wood below. Perhaps when we’re all asleep, the deck becomes a stage where nocturnal animals and their friends the elves perform mysterious Pagan rituals. I’ll sometimes wake in the pre-dawn hours and see that this lantern is still glowing.

When all of these lights are illuminated, our backyard takes on the appearance of an enchanted land inhabited by spirits straight out of a Harry Potter movie. In the not too distant past, imagining lights that work like these would have seemed a most fantastic invention. The fact that solar lights are a common place item that can be purchased anywhere doesn’t take away from the magic I feel sitting here at dusk and watching them blink on one at a time.