What's that glowing in your garden tonight? "Come into the garden, Maud," goes the Victorian song. The coy young woman would surely reject the invitation if the place was illuminated like a floodlit soccer stadium. Garden lights now manifest themselves in all sorts of ways, some more hazardous than others. Earlier this year farmers and conservationists were warning of the dangers to crops and livestock posed by Chinese flying lanterns. Indeed, there are numerous options for people who can't bear to be outside in the dark. There are flame pots, fuel briquettes inside containers that can be Spartan or Roman, depending on your taste. Or would you prefer solar-powered lights in the form of plastic ducks, which switch on when it gets dark? If ducks don't turn you on, try "Mr and Mrs Owl solar lights. Decorative by day and alive at night. More and more people clearly feel that their garden is incomplete without some artificial representation of bird or animal life. Gnomes are being challenged for supremacy by quirky, winsome models of cute creatures: three serenading cats, arm in arm; a family of four meerkats that wobble in the breeze; the "elfin tree peeker" that clings to the trunk and grins at you from a face that the uncharitable would say looks a bit like Alan Titchmarsh. There are glass models of butterflies to hang on the side of pots, and planters in the shape of dogs and cats with bobbing heads. Rudyard Kipling, in his poem The Glory of the Garden, wrote: Our England is a garden that is full of stately views Of borders, beds and shrubberies, and lawns and avenues. No mention of lights, heaters or tacky ornaments. The purpose of a garden is to showcase nature; to grow flowers, fruit and vegetables and attract wildlife. The irony is that as from tomorrow, when many of us will be forbidden to use one of the few really useful garden gizmos - a hose with a sprinkler - the borders, beds and shrubberies will be struggling to survive. Instead of nature's stately views, we could soon be looking out on a landscape of parched earth, devoid of life. Now what page were those wobbling meerkats on?