Little did I know when I woke up last Saturday that within hours I’d be on the Path of Life. In the late morning Lauren called to ask if I wanted to accompany her, Amy and Hilary to Windsor, VT, about 45 minutes north of here.
The Path of Life Garden, spreading across a wide field alongside the Connecticut River, consists of a variety of strange nature-ish objects that, in the mind of the creator (little “c”) symbolize stages of life.
We began at the Tunnel (actually, the Culvert) of Oblivion.
Next we got born via a maze of scruffy cypress trees barely taller than us. Last week somebody — I think it was Jess — told me that if you happen to find yourself in a labyrinth, keep your hand on the right wall and you’ll find your way out. I hadn’t suspected I’d get to test the hypothesis so soon. Lo and behold — despite the protests of a certain mutinous doubter — we emerged in good time.
We passed through Learning, Family, Parenthood, Community and … Nieces & Nephews.
We meandered through the Garden of Union and crested the Hill of Ambition. Here we are in Creativity.
Between Hope and Adventure we almost overlooked the most bedraggled shrub I’ve ever seen. The Tree of Wisdom, according to the sign, has nuts filled with knowledge.
This first photo shows the Teepee of Sorrow. You’d be sorry too if you were standing alone in a Vermont autumn without any clothes. At the risk of being obvious, the burned-up face whose nose Lauren is picking depicts Forgiveness.
We took a detour down to the river where, as you can see from the middle photo, we succeeded in skipping stones!
A bit further on we spotted a field of pumpkins across a slough: pumpkins in clear need of liberation, according to certain anonymous members of our party. “They’d go to waste anyway, if we didn’t take them.” Soon after, with pumpkin-filled arms, we came the Spot of Serenity where I found Amy at the creek: —”I’m washing my hands of sin.”
Here is the lotus of Something, and the Tall, Weird-Looking Guy of Something Else.
At last came my personal favorite: Death, which we zipped through with stolen pumpkins in hand, proving that you can take it with you. The unindoctrinated might not know that after death comes Oblivion, and then Rebirth.
Once we got home I spent quite a bit of time editing a wonderful video in which we, standing in the Afterlife, each answered the question: “What do you want to be in your next life?” I hope in my next life I will have better luck with the fecking export function of Final Cut. To summarize: one person wanted to be a dolphin (“They have sex for pleasure”), a whale (“So I can swim down as deep as I want to go”) and a mountain climber (I’m unsure why that must be preceded by rebirth). I couldn’t think of what I’d want to be, but maybe a carrot.
This is a picture of me hiding my stolen pumpkin where no one could find it.
What?
No seventh circle of hell?!
You should get your money back.
Imagine being on acid out there in (what looks like) the middle of nowhere but then stumbling across a place like this!
At night.
By yourself.
Oooooh…
Some days I’m in a “Creator” sort of mood, other days I’m all lowercase, but Vermont-the outdoorsy part at least-looks like it’s proven to be a capital “C” experience?
That last picture reminded me of the “Curb Your Enthusiasm” episode where that home-care nurse utilized her abnormally large vagina to smuggle out a patient’s $20,000 Mickey Mantle ball.
And then she swallowed a whole entire phone.
But not with her mouth.
That looks even more fun than the Biblical Gardens. Why do you live somewhere so damnably pretty? It’s just not fair.
“At last came my personal favorite: Death, which we zipped through with stolen pumpkins in hand, proving that you can take it with you.” – You make me giggle like a caffeinated schoolchild. (My sister and her wonderfully classy comments also make me giggle. Giggledy dee.)
I cannot account for the genital remarks of my first commenter. I’m glad the other writer liked my journey through death, which amused me.