The garden is far more formal now, with a clipped boxwood parterre in a geometric pattern around a fountain. There’s a more recent photo here.
Another picture from a file of bookmarked photos I have labeled “children made to pose in gardens.”
“Three children in sailor suits,” between 1859 and 1910, in the Pyrénées, by Eugène Trutat, via Bibliothèque de Toulouse Commons on flickr.
I think the little girl has just about had enough. I like the way she has her hands in her pockets.
There is another photo from the Bibliothèque that I believe shows the same three children, captioned “Enfants Servell, 2 novembre 1905,” here.
A repeat from December 2012. . . . I love this bleary little photo.
As from the house your mother seesYou playing round the garden trees,So you may see, if you will lookThrough the windows of this book,Another child, far, far away,And in another garden, play.But do not think you can at all,By knocking on the window, callThat child to hear you. He intentIs all on his play-business bent.He does not hear; he will not look,Nor yet be lured out of this book.For, long ago, the truth to say,He has grown up and gone away,And it is but a child of airThat lingers in the garden there.— Robert Louis Stevenson, “To Any Reader”
You’ve made your garden; how will you live in it?
[T]he significance of the garden cannot be restricted to the domain of the aesthetic. That the garden affords sensory pleasure and invites the exercise of taste is, to be sure, an important dimension of the significance that gardens have for many people, but not one that even begins to exhaust the place that these same people afford to the garden within a wider conception of ‘the good life’.
— David E. Cooper, from A Philosophy of Gardens