The other day I was walking through a quiet neighbourhood in the vineyards of the Moselle. The paving was clean, the lawns trimmed. And then - boom. There he is.
An orange lion. At the doorstep. Staring at me like I owe him tribute.
In Luxembourg (and neighbouring regions), this curious species of decorative guardian is far from endangered. In fact, he seems to thrive. Perched on plinths, flanking doorways, occasionally with a matching sibling on the opposite side - lions are everywhere.
But why? I was wondering. So, I did a bit of brainstorming:
Let's start with the obvious. The lion is a classic symbol of strength, dignity, and territorial dominance. Historically, they guarded temples, palaces, and tombs. In modern-day Moselle, they obviously guard… tile staircases and mailbox number 11.
This is not Versailles. And yet the lion roars on.
Of course, there's a social signalling theory to all this. Nothing says "I am sovereign of my semi-detached castle" quite like a stone (or plastic, or fiberglass) lion in full regalia. It whispers, "Yes, this is a 1970s bungalow, but also possibly the seat of a forgotten dynasty". Much like oversized garage doors or meticulously arranged garden gnomes, these lions serve as suburban status symbols, though perhaps with a touch more historical gravitas.
The design choices vary wildly: weathered stone for the classically inclined, seen a lot in the small town where I live, white glossy resin for the spiritually ambiguous, and then… this one.
Neon orange terracotta with streaks of bird poop. A design statement if ever there was one. Equal parts Narnia and nightmare fuel, like if Aslan had an unfortunate encounter with a traffic cone and then was left to weather the elements for a decade.
Is it art? Is it irony? Or is it simply a result of the Luxembourgish DIY spirit gone rogue?
We may never know.
The vibrant orange of this particular specimen is what caught my eye initially – a blazing sentinel impossible to ignore against the muted tones of the neighborhood. It's somehow both wildly out of place and perfectly at home, a contradiction in terracotta.
What's fascinating is how this tradition seems particularly entrenched in the Luxembourg-Moselle region. While garden statuary exists worldwide, the lion doorkeepers here appear with a frequency that borders on cultural requirement rather than mere decoration.
However, this orange Lion stays with me. It is an unforgettable example of the cultural expression in this part of the world.
But one thing's for sure: the doorstep lion is less about the creature itself and more about the need to be seen. To add weight - literal and symbolic - to the threshold between public life and private sanctuary.
It says: "Beyond this point, my rules apply. Step carefully. And maybe, just maybe, bow."
What suburban guardian stands watch at your threshold? And what might it reveal about your own territorial instincts?
written by Helen M. Krauss