Someone Stole My Gargoyle

Someone Stole My Gargoyle

Someone stole my gargoyle from my garden.

He has travelled from house to house with me, each time I have moved over the past two decades.  He sat next to my back door at this house for seven years. 

This gargoyle is not large, just ten inches tall.  He is not scary-looking, just impish sitting with folded arms.  He is not expensive like some garden decorations can be.  He is just not here anymore.

What he is or was…was important to me.  My daughter gave him to me a long time ago when I was going through a bad patch, bereft and alone.  She gave him in recognition that I love stories about gargoyles, in recognition that gargoyles guard sacred spaces, in recognition that I hold my home (wherever it is) as sacred space, and as a reminder of her love for me.

And now he is gone; someone’s prank perhaps or a bit of mischief maybe—who knows.

I’ve wandered the yard and the neighbourhood looking for him, though he is so small, he would look like a large stone if someone had just pitched him.

I am unsettled that someone walked down my driveway and into the path, walked through the garden, stood outside my kitchen windows, so close to my door, all to steal something of little monetary value.  Yet this gargoyle is of great value to me.

There are few items I own I can’t bear to part with.  I don’t attach myself to things.  I have moved often and have faced life changes often; enough to know that things don’t matter as much as people and relationships.

This gargoyle however I was attached to; he was a gift from someone dear to me, someone who wanted me, whenever I looked at her gift, to be reassured she loved me.

And now he is gone.

I’ll get over it.

I have a lump in my throat and tightness in my chest.

I’ll get over that too.

How easily this thief has inflicted pain.  A joke, a dare, a thoughtless prank, someone stole my gargoyle from my garden.

Senseless.

This photo is mine.

Gargoyle Guards the Home

A gargoyle guards the entrance to this home

watches over the garden's blooms

supervises installation of walkway and steps

eyes the soon-to-be vegetable garden

and the side garden paths

waits for the burst of colour from this peony bud.

Gargoyle guards and watches it all.

Gargoyle and Clematis

A tiny pensive gargoyle guards my clematis.  Each year he spends the winter in the basement, each spring he comes out and stays until the snow flies again, sitting with arms folded contemplating the garden’s changes.

He watches the clematis vines sprout and grow, climb and bud, and eventually burst into showy white flowers with deep pink bars. 

This particular Nelly Moser clematis did not over-winter well, suffering breakage from the excessive snow.  Consequently, the blooms that usually bud from the previous year’s vine stems will not be here.  The broken vine had to be cut back to deal with the storm damage; it has started over from the height of mere inches.  

This clematis vine is resilient and has managed to grow high enough so that the leaf tendrils are catching in the lattice work, providing a sturdy support to climb. 

The gargoyle will watch over the evolution of the garden this summer; if only he could encourage the clematis and help with the weeding.