nichepoetryandprose

poetry and prose about place

Posts Tagged ‘miniature

decorating for Christmas #6

with one comment

In our house, everyone celebrates Christmas, even the mouse who lives under the stair. Here he is, beside his mouse hole, with his well-lit Christmas tree and wreath. He has a big gift to open on Christmas day! Heads up, the lines on the wall at the top of the photo are made by our cat!

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Merry Christmas to you too!

Written by jane tims

December 23, 2017 at 10:28 am

villages and vignettes

with 4 comments

I love to view bits of the world in miniature.  Especially at Christmas, small replicas of human space make me feel comfortable.  Perhaps seeing a world fit neatly into a small space is a version of the safety and calm an animal feels in its den.  Perhaps looking over a diorama gives me powerful feelings of omniscience and omnipresence.  Perhaps I like the impression of a story being told, from beginning to end, confined in space and time.

Our Christmas decorations are predominantly miniaturized vignettes:

our nativity scene, complete with a stable and its donkey, and a star-spangled hillside of angels and sheep…

my collection of Buyers Choice skaters, including a fellow roasting a marshmallow at a fire beside the frozen pond…

Rudolf and Bumbles from the Island of Misfit Toys

children gathering around a pitiful Charlie Brown Christmas tree…

a frosty forest of bottle-brush trees and silver reindeer …

and a village with an inn, a church, and a park with a pond, a stone bridge and a park bench…

All very cute, but there is something missing. 

The best scenes are those with real people.  A scene of us sitting by our Christmas tree, talking and laughing.  A scene of people in the bookstore, looking for a special book to give someone they love.  The scene of a colleague at work, leaving a Christmas card on each desk.  A scene of friends walking along a downtown street while the snow falls and the church bells mark the hour. 

Merry Christmas everyone!   

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still street

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the stillness of this street

its gentle curve

the steady glow of lamps

lighted windows, sturdy gates

a frozen pond, stone bridge reflected

soft snow, unmarked

and a park bench

where no one ever sits

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©  Jane Tims   2011

 

Written by jane tims

December 24, 2011 at 6:46 am

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