Sharing the light

Several nights ago I took a walk down through the neighborhood, enjoying a not-too-chilly evening and looking at all the holiday decorations — strings of lights outlining houses and rooftops, nets of glowing colors tossed over shrubs, dangling six-pointed snowflakes, and my favorite: tree trunks and branches outlined with strands of coiled lights.

It was interesting to note the generations of the decorations, ranging from antique strings of large-bulb lights that my ninetyyear-old neighbor drapes along the edges of her garage, to the somewhat passé icicles hanging from gutters and white-light reindeer standing on lawns, to the now-classic plain white lights. I observed that this year more houses are displaying the current trend of the swirling lightshow designs and a serious population explosion of those inflated creations; everything from Santas and snowmen to Yoda, Darth Vader, and the Minions. I have to say that these look a little creepy to me during the day when they’re collapsed like melted snowmen.

The main thing, though, was witnessing the age-old custom of people lighting lights against the dark; not just inside, but outside too — on houses, in yards, on mailboxes — for all to see. It’s particularly lovely that my backdoor neighbors decorate the patio and deck behind their house; this is the view I get while I’m washing the dinner dishes. It makes me happy.

All of this brightening of the dark feels like such a lovely sharing. As I walked I felt a warm inner glow, thinking of all the work that people had done to put up all of these decorations; decorations that were mine to enjoy through no more effort than taking a walk. I hadn’t ever really noticed it this way before, but on that night the lights sent me a message of community.

That same sense of community is what I love the most about writing this column. Sure, I enjoy sharing my own gardening experiences, and exploring and learning about new things and communicating that. But the most gratifying part is getting emails, letters, and cards in response to topics that have resonated with you. Reader feedback doesn’t happen every week, but it’s enough to let me know that people are reading and enjoying. I especially love hearing your own gardening experiences and tips. Each time that it happens, I learn and grow and feel my community expand.

In my pensive mood I could imagine all of these lights as bright seeds. Of course they won’t grow and produce flowers or food the way real seeds do, but they’re nourishing in their own way, a reminder that sunny, warm days will return.

And just as stringing up colorful lights is a way of sharing and creating community, so is planting a garden border where everyone can see and enjoy it. This goes

beyond the more obvious garden sharing of exchanging seeds, giving away extra home-grown produce, or watering a neighbor’s garden while they’re away.

Here we are, on the shortest day of the year, the time of the longest nights, yet I don’t think I’ve ever felt so much light in my life. Here is wishing you

a bright, light-filled holiday, however you celebrate at this time of year. And happy first day of winter! It officially starts today at 11:28 a.m.

Note: I didn’t get to visit many of your gardens this year, but I felt connected through your emails and letters. I love hearing from you and do answer all correspondence. If you wrote to me and I didn’t write back, it’s because your letter or email never reached me.

Pam Baxter is an avid organic vegetable gardener who lives in Kimberton. Direct e-mail to pamelacbaxter@gmail. com, or send mail to P.O. Box 80, Kimberton, PA 19442. Share your gardening stories on Facebook at “Chester County Roots.” And check out Pam’s new book for children and families: Big Life Lessons from Nature’s Little Secrets. Available at amazon.com.