Well, after years of being snubbed in jolly old England, it’s no wonder that a handful of red-capped garden residents might find pleasing refuge in the unsuspecting green spaces of Overland Park, Kansas.
Photo by Sassy Gardener via Wikimedia Commons
The Midwest is famous for its hospitality, after all.
But who are these mysterious immigrants?
Perhaps we’ll never know.
They aren’t answering their doors …
Photo courtesy of KSHB.com
According to news network KSHB in Overland Park, “Gnome homes are popping up all over the city.”
That’s right, gnome homes.
Beyond a newly erected sign reading, “Firefly Forest,”
Photo courtesy of KSHB.com
park visitors have discovered tiny painted doorways nestled into tree trunks that are charmingly accented with mini mailboxes, stone pathways, welcome mats—even gnome-sized furnishings within.
But the gnomes?
Sorry, they’re not at home.
“We don’t know when they arrived or who’s living in these little tree homes, but we welcome them to Overland Park,” says Sean Reilly, spokesperson for Overland Park. “I think it’s bringing smiles and laughter to those who are finding out about it, and that’s exactly what we need sometimes in our lives—a little bit of happiness, joy, and truly, just laughter.”
Watch a wee video of the gnome neighborhood at KMBC.com.
In my Mom’s last few years, her creeping senility was most evident when she took out a book my sister gave her of gnome homes. She was 100% sure that they existed and could be found deep in the forests if you just went out to look! I remember her showing me her favorite pages with excitement about how they lived in trees and other underground locations. Really Mom? Yep, she was sure. For her, it was like finding out that Snow White and the 7 Dwarves really did exist as shown in the old Disney film. But at age 93, maybe she was on to something the rest of us thought was crazy! If you never actually see them in person, then who put up that red door in the tree base? Maybe I should take a closer look!
My gnome collection began a few years ago with a small, hand-carved and painted wooden gnome passed down to me from a relative. Gerald kept dutiful watch over the house plant on my dorm room windowsill until I graduated college. When my husband and I shared our first Valentine’s day as a married couple, he bought me Klaus, a flower-clutching concrete heavyweight who hangs out in the garden. Later came Frank, who met an unfortunate end on the shed floor, and Pierre, the beardless gnome who hides under my potted plant. Viktor rounds out my collection and welcomes all visitors who grace my porch.