My buddy Kristin was very clear about why she had come to Longwood Gardens on this warm and crisp afternoon: To see the Christmas lights. Not room after room of beautiful fragrant flowers, plants and decorations inside the conservatory of the property that had once been the home of the fab-wealthy Pierre S. du Pont.
She wanted to be around when darkness fell on the grounds and the lights were turned on to illuminate whatever the staff had chosen to amaze us. In the daylight, it all looked the same – although the grounds are lovely without illumination.
I had gone to see how Longwood had transformed itself for Christmas, using flora that I recognized and much more that was unfamiliar – and in some instances grown specifically for it. I was not disappointed, and I never am when I visit the place.
Maybe deep in my soul, I’m drawn to it by its history. It was first inhabited by the Lenni Lenape Indians, followed by a Quaker family named Peirce that bought it in the 1700s from William Penn. They maintained its natural beauty and set up an arboretum on their farm. Some members of the family, John and Hannah Peirce Cox, opened up their home on the southern end of the property as a stop along the Underground Railroad to assist Africans escaping slavery and the auction block.
That bit of research gave me a greater appreciation of Longwood and its history that I’ll remember each time I stop by to see its room of beautiful orchids or century-old bonsai or any current exhibit.
On this day, though, I was there to bask in Christmas with Kristin and her mother Epsie. Tons of other people were, too, because they came with timed tickets (to apparently avoid overcrowdiness): moms with babies in carriages, women in wheelers, and plenty of young children, adults and men.
I was very surprised to see so many men (with families and with other male friends) – two burly guys walking in front of me looked like they’d just left a construction site. Not the type I’d expect to see at a place where nature was the star.
Kristin had her share of company for the lights, though. We had arrived at Longwood in the early afternoon when the flow of people was moderate. As we were leaving after nightfall, a thick crowd was headed to the conservatory, walking amid trees with red lights and rainbows of colored lights, white lighted snowflakes in tree branches and lights wrapped around arches.
For those of you who don’t have a Longwood Gardens nearby or can’t make it to Kennett Square, PA, to see nature turned out for Christmas, here’s a sampling of what dazzled me:
