I catch a glimpse of an intriguing looking
metal box of some kind stuck way up the hillside and decide to make the climb
up the natural cascade of what used to be liquid rock from back in the day when
the earth was still being formed by volcanoes. Although the climb is not too strenuous, my
friend and travelling companion, the 2-legged one, waits at the bottom, content
to enjoy the crisp autumn day. Sofie
makes the trek to the top of the hill with me, bounding ahead of me and then
turning back to hurry back to my side,
guarding me from the forest’s wild critters.
When I reach the top, piles of rounded boulders
curve snake-like, fitting into the natural depression of the rock-face. Pleasing in a way, the symmetry of the rocks
flows, almost like a waterfall away from the 4-legged metal watcher.
 |
| The Watcher |
 |
| The Snake from a different angle |
Sofie and I pick our way down the petrified
waterfall and the three of us meander down the path, keeping our eyes peeled
for the next object d’art. You just
never know what you’ll see next and, most of the time, why.
A newish looking wooden frame peeks out
from amongst the foliage and we get close to try and figure out what it is. Looks like a double door entrance-way that’s
still on the Honey Do list to get finished.
We continue down the leaf littered path and
something shiny flicks here and there as we come around the curve. Hmmm, we think as we come across a fair-size
chunk of forest with rectangular strips of what looks like aluminum foil tacked
to a lot of trees. What message is the
artist trying to convey with this one?
 |
| Shiny! |
The next exhibit is kinda weird. A pile of flattened vehicles, mostly cars I
think and then mashed somehow into the side of a hill.
 |
| Photo: Roger Henriques |
"Badanna Zack's roadside sculpture, Mound of Cars (1998) intertwines the raw materials of nature with the vestiges of technology. Six discarded vehicles found on the property in a derelict state were towed, stacked in a pyramid fashion, crushed, and covered with earth." Carolyn Bell Farrell
So far, this one is my favourite. I’m not sure why. Maybe because it’s the most recognizable and
almost understandable. After all, what
does one do with the thousands and probably millions of old, defunct horse-less
carriages? They have to go somewhere.
We continue our journey down this very interesting
albeit puzzling path of perplexing art projects and come to a fork in the
road. Off to our right is a placard
announcing artist’s names of the pieces which can be found down a side trail
and that it’s a linear path, not a loop.
I’m more curious as to why people need to be told that you have to go
out the same way you went in. I figure
the local search and rescue teams probably got tired of having to go find
people who thought the trail looped around and met up with the main path
somewhere down the line, only to become hopelessly lost. 911.
Yvette and I finish reading the sign and
dissecting its meaning and decide to stay on the main path to its end. As we turn to continue, we can hear a car
engine grinding in low gear coming up the trail towards us.
We look at each other and our eyebrows lift
skyward, as we both recall the sign near the parking area which states that
motorized vehicles are not permitted on the path.
Figuring there must be a dire emergency of
some kind, we stop and wait for the vehicle to catch up with us. It's safer that way, anyway.
Stayed tuned for Quart III.
