Gnotes From the Gnome Grove

For many, the garden gnome is a kitsch relic of a bygone era when Americans had the time and disposable income to attend to their front yards. 

Those Austinites more plugged in to certain subcultures beg to differ.  Shows like Over the Garden Wall, aesthetic trends like cottagecore, and some crafting, gardening, and environmental movements have inspired the gnome’s return.

Just in time for their return, this past Saturday the Zilker Botanical Garden celebrated the opening of the Garden Gnome Grove, the first-try at an autumn equivalent to the garden’s spring fairy garden. Artists, called “gnomesteaders,” set up dozens of gnome-sized homes throughout the garden’s Oak Grove. 

The opening celebration promised food, music, and, most importantly, gnomes. I simply had to attend.

Thanks to the oak trees, the temperature in the noon shade was almost forgiving. The event was way more full than I had been expecting, with just about every age represented. Kids in gnome costumes frolicked, college kids peeked at the mycological and origami booths, and adults strolled and chatted.  

For some, the gnome celebration seemed almost spiritual. I saw a man crouched, piping a playful tune on a wooden flute in the direction of one of the gnome houses. I felt like I had stepped inside a miniature renaissance faire.

It wasn’t long until a volunteer, Amanda, noticed me wandering and suggested I get one of the gnome-themed temporary tattoos. Amanda sported a tall red gnome-hat, which my research has led me to believe is called a pileus. Once I noticed the hat, I realized they were everywhere.

I couldn’t help but wonder: What was it about gnomes?

Credit: Charlie Sharpe

I figured I’d find my answer on the gravel pathways of the pièce de résistance: the titular gnome grove. 

As I walked through Oak Grove, I overheard gnomesteaders explain their creations and the excited squeals of pileus-wearing children. Each gnomesteader planted clever details that demanded careful inspection. No two displays looked the same.

Some gnomesteaders emphasized the foraging aspect of the challenge, cleverly re-using egg cartons, shells, or glass ornaments in their creations. Others provided the gnomes with Austin classics: I spotted “Gnome City Limits,” “G. Terry’s,” and “ThunderGnome Subs” along Whispering Way. Austin Creative Reuse had an incredibly elaborate collaborative gnomestead, including a miniature ACR selling fabric scraps the width of a pinkie nail. 

As I did my second loop, I realized I had seen very few lonely gnomes. Despite the connotation of the word “gnomestead,” maybe calling to mind a Facebook Reels-addicted gnome you went to high school with who inexplicably fled to rural Washington post-pandemic, almost every plot suggested the presence of a gnome community. 

One particular plot stood out to me in this vein: “Gnome Worry, Be Happy.” It was a simple piece, three gnome huts constructed of bark and stumps and connected by pebble pathways. The title tells the story – while there were no gnomes to be seen, I got the sense the inhabitants of these bark huts were connected and happy.

Maybe that was what caused this gnome fever – the vision gnomes give us of living in harmony with nature and each other. It’s no wonder organizations like Austin Creative Reuse and the Central Texas Mycology Society were in attendance. If gnomes are real, they would love those orgs. 

You’ll be able to check out the gnome grove through November 8, and from now through November 2, Zilker Botanical Garden is holding a Gnomestead Contest that the public may vote on. The categories include Best Use of Natural Materials, Coziest Abode, and the classic People’s Choice award.

If you missed the opening ceremony, don’t fear – there’s a closing celebration on November 8. In the meantime, keep your eyes peeled for red pilei peeking through the grass.

Credit: Charlie Sharpe

The post Gnotes From the Gnome Grove appeared first on The Austin Chronicle.