After the Storm — 6.0 — -River Bottom Labyrinth, Somewhere East of Cottage Grove, Oregon, USA
“Oh my Red Wing, take me softly
To my home, now, to my family
Oh my Red Wing, hold me closely
Take me under the brightest sun”
My Dutch friend is in the fourth day of his cleansing fast, drinking only apple cider vinegar laced with a half-teaspoon of honey. Body flushing seems to make him wax poetic as we sit on a stump in the January sunshine. We are at the bottom of a lake looking over the rapid flow of a rain swollen creek just a few miles up stream from the huge earthen dam that makes the creek into a reservoir during the summer. Yeah, it’s a little complicated. All part of a flood control system that stops the city of Eugene from reverting back to Skinner’s Mud-hole which is what it was once named. Eugene Skinner was the original pioneer who homesteaded the area. The Army Corps of Engineers designed and built the damns and canal systems that keep the city mostly above water. It also supplies irrigation water in the dry summers. Win, win. The lake bottom is now filled with stumps. Which is where we are sitting. It is also the secret location of the River Bottom Labyrinth.
It is my esteemed pleasure (truly, I’m not joking here) to be invited to show the labyrinth to my wonderful young friend Sidney. I am blessed that she is my friend. Blessed because we were once in a darn good relationship that didn’t work out (I know, I know, SOS, same old story) , a relationship we survived, transcended, and transformed into a wonderful friendship. A friendship that doesn’t go away. I think that is a great accomplishment. Or at least I’ve convinced myself of that.
My Dutch friend has convinced himself that periodic fasting will lower his blood pressure. His American wife has convinced herself that it is worthwhile building and maintaining a labyrinth at the bottom of a seasonal lake. I’m not exactly sure what Sidney has convinced herself of, but at least she thinks it’s alright to ride in a car with me if we both wear masks, She’s heading back to Scotland soon to visit and care for her DOD (dear old dad)
I’m convinced that they are all bat-shit crazy. And I love them for it.
The labyrinth is amazing. A true work of art which I had a very small hand in creating. It is the work of a beautiful mind, and an artful hand, and much persistance and gentle ambition. It has grown over the years and seems to survive quite well each season buried under 20 to 30 feet of lake water.
I walk the labyrinth while chanting my various mantras. I’m wearing my shirt that has the word “Wise” printed over the silhouette of a donkey. It’s slightly subtle but you’ll get it if you see it. It was a Christmas gift from another very good friend. I swing my arms as I carefully pace my way to the middle. I have a crystal in my pocket which I deposit on the center shrine. Then I smoothly find my way out.
There is mud on my boots from the lake bottom.
It is a beautiful, sunny, global-warmed January day. I am with some of my favorite people in the whole wide world. A dog named Ellie, a goat named Rosie, a farm named Unity. And suddenly it occurs to me that my heart is finally at peace.
My Dutch friend sees me smiling shortly after this feeling takes it’s place on my face.
He leans over and whispers in his quiet voice: “De dingen worden wat ze zijn”
Which roughly translates: Things become what they are….
I mean, really, how can I disagree with that.
