I’m not going to lie – life circumstances right now have sapped me of any mental energies I may be taking to pick locations as of late, so this duty has been left to my usual travel companion and this location turned out to be a real gem!
Right in the gate there was this super sad statue in front of a geese filled duck pond, er geese pond? A fountain and fall foliage brought the whole scene together like some sort of morbid post card from beyond. And this place was huge! We hadn’t gone to find anyone in specific but we did hear this was a garden cemetery with a lot of gorgeous monuments and it did not disappoint!
Near the beginning we immediately came across a bizarre stone reading, “The Man Fortune, died 1798, buried September 13, 2013. Child of God, free at last.” The grammar was particularly confusing. Was this the Man Fortune as in a fortune of the Man family or a man named Fortune?? And what was up with the dates?! It was clearly a new stone.
As it turns out Fortune was this man’s name. He was a slave, born in Africa, who served under a local doctor who decided to take advantage of his death by using his corpse as a cadaver to dissect and teach other medical students since cadavers at the time were very hard to come by, there’s only so many criminals one can hang on a given year. We can be assured this was not agreed upon by Fortune himself prior to his death and insult was added to injury as his cadaver was rendered into a skeleton that then taught anatomy students and then took up residence in a local museum until the 1940’s under the name Larry. Eventually the origins of “Larry” was discovered almost 200 years later and he was taken down from display. It wasn’t until 2013 however that someone decided to give him a proper burial in the churchyard he was baptized in a year before his death. It was apparently a big news story that got national attention although now I didn’t see a single penny on his grave.
Beyond this there were a bunch of statues of mourning women scattered throughout the cemetery, an elk on a hill overlooking everything, and a few unique monuments as well. As expected in a cemetery of this sort of wealth we also came across a number of stone masons. Everything was just electrified by the blushing trees in the background, one was so golden we took a ton of shots of it, none of which showed just how vibrant yellow it really was. We spent a few hours wandering this place. It’s hilly and with every hill there’s a new view, none of them disappointing! This place was perfect for the would-be photographer looking for an afternoon out.
Although it does not have terribly many famous names here it was still worth a good walk through and the two hours it took to get there. We had an awesome time and I would highly recommend this place!
*Credit given to my BFF for taking the cover photo. His photographic skills often surpass my own and DAMN was that a brilliant photo!
It’s been a while since I went to a zoo, so why not try this cute little one practically off season? I remember wanting to go here a few years ago to see some weird small animal I’ve never heard of but for the life of me I don’t remember what it was and seeing the critters did not jog my memory.
The Roger Williams Zoo is oddly located with a weird byzantine parking lot and no clear direction where the zoo is from said parking lot, which I guess wouldn’t be a problem if we went in the summer and could follow the crowds but alas no, when we showed up we weren’t even sure the place was open. The sign seemed to imply they weren’t but there was a greeter and a ticket master who insisted otherwise.
This zoo was fairly decently sized and had more character than most. Most zoos are basically big cats and elephants but this place seemed to be focusing more on the little guys. We got to see an assortment of birds from around the globe I’d never even heard of before, a very sleepy red panda, and even a pen full of cracked-out armadillos. I say cracked-out because those little buggars were running laps through their pen going maybe 30 miles an hour without stopping to breathe. I’d always wanted to see an armadillo and suspect I may have once during my travels down south when a mysterious grey blur shot across the road at lightning speed. This time though I got to see them up close and wow…. they’re funky little things! Like armored possums with endless energy.
Other favorites were the red pandas who slept lazily, a VERY cute gibbon, two monkeys with entwined tails in the cold, a Komodo dragon, and a three-legged serval who peered intently out of his room into his enclosure as the keepers cleaned his pen. I was sad however that there were no anteaters or otters as promised. I’m guessing it’s too cold for them at this point in the year. There was however loose Golden Tamaran Monkeys in the rainforest enclosure which we could walk right into. It was however hot, humid, and a little stanky in there but I don’t think there was any way around that. It looked clean and the rest of the zoo smelled fine.
Because it was October we got to see a little bit of their parade of pumpkins, a Jack-O-lantern filled part of the zoo that opened up and sold separate tickets at night. And the perimeter was also decorated with skeletons and gravestones and was generally very cute. We didn’t stick around to see all the Jack O’Lanterns at night but it was an amusing side for anyone who might be interested in a family friendly little walk.
All and all it was a cute little zoo and I would recommend it to anyone in the area, though I am not sure how far I’d recommend travel to see it considering its relatively small size. Good for little kids though, less acreage to walk! I would not recommend it to anyone looking to see big cats as there were no lions or tigers, just cheetahs, a three-legged serval, and a VERY camouflaged snow leopard.
I’m a scientific person but more so I’m always in need of whimsy so when we found out there was a Bigfoot Research Institute we just had to give it a good poke.
The challenges to get there were the usual, as my brother says, “Boston isn’t made for cars.” And it isn’t. All the roads were made from old indigenous trails through the woods and probably game trails as well making them a delightfully confusing rats nest of pure chaos. Add to that afternoon traffic, volatile drivers, and teenagers popping wheeling on their bikes while weaving between cars and you end up with me swearing profusely, which let me tell you is not normal. I’m a very chill driver most days but Boston… this Bigfoot better be good!
I found a parking lot a little up the street and we ambled to the address given. I don’t recall if there was even a sign saying what it was. There was however a sign saying ring the bell to deliver packages. Are we delivering a package?
We rung the bell and we’re welcomed in shyly at first. We walked in and found ourselves somewhere strange, again. There was a standing desk, some books for sale around it, and not much in the way of bigfoot except a big stuffed one in the corner and a disorganized pile of random child-oriented bigfoot stuff in a collection of drawers. Confused, someone else came out and started to explain.
The Bigfoot Research Institute was really just a gimmick to use as a storefront and get people through the door but really this place was a creative writing organization (826 Boston) trying to inspire local youths. The books were books all the students had written. And the bigfoot stuff? The gimmick was really to be a spot for kids to gear up to become bigfoot hunters. It used to be something more to see with games and other interactive activities including a phone booth looking thing the kids could sit in as a narrator told them all the places they may go while blowing fans and AC on them for cold climates, etc. It was cute! We were told it was in disarray but if we came back in a year or two it’d be back to it’s former glory.
They also told us other chapters of their organization had completely different gimmicks and handed us a passport in case we may want to see them spread across the country and the world. I don’t get the feeling many adults go through their doors, they were very happy to see us and said if I ever wanted to there are remote volunteering opportunities. I may consider it!
Since we were here… might as well see what those books were about. I bought a book of poetry and my fellow bewildered traveler got a cookbook. The staff, now numbering three, happily burbled to us about their students and what they were working on saying that one of their previous alumni grew up to be Amanda Gorman the youngest inaugural poet in US history.
I read the book of poetry (How We May Appear; Gen Z’s Reflection on Equality through Poems, Essays, and Narratives) and it was pretty powerful to hear from so many diverse young minds, granted I also found it more than a bit heartbreaking. This generation coming up knows there’s not much of a future for them and they’re expressing it in lines like, “When I’m asked what I want to be when I grow up I always answer, ‘alive.'” I sincerely hope our societal climate starts changing. It’s a tragedy to all when brilliant minds are permanently stuck in poverty and exhaustion, unable to reach their potential because somewhere along the way this country forgot what community was and adopted an everyone for themselves take on public policies.
I admit driving to this place was more of a challenge than I appreciated and the bigfoot part of it was a bit of a flop but I’m happy we found this place, talked to some really kind people, and got to hear from a portion of society I rarely get to hear (being childless as I am.)
Anyway, if any of this interests you or you know a kid in the Boston area who could use a little encouragement to keep writing you can find their website at 826 Boston.
It seemed appropriate to end the night of celebrations with an escape room. This one I don’t think I have been to but it’s hard to say. They’re starting to blur into each other. None the less BF had his heart set on Poker Night at the President’s Bunker which was an apocalyptic scenario in which we had to disarm the nukes before they went off. This one was hard… we had three players that night and only beat the clock by six minutes and some change. I did appreciate how there wasn’t really any 1,2,3 kind of steps with the puzzles, several of them could be worked on at once which allowed me time to wander and poke at things. I was told I could take photos, as long as they weren’t solutions, but ehhhh, why ruin the mystery? Besides this picture of the outside of their establishment with a cameo appearance by the skeleton of Andy Warhol seems fun enough!
Inside the waiting area was all decorated for Halloween with nice dim neon lighting and a few skulls about. The hostess was bubbly and fun and talked to us for quite a bit before we settled in. I was happy to be allowed to take my purse in with me. Always gives me anxiety to leave anything in a locker or hook!
Poker Night in the President’s Bunker was a two-room scenario with fittingly underwhelming decor (some maps, a poster of all the presidents, a little poker table, and a mini bar.) I can’t really blame the escape room for this. It was supposed to be set in the White House annnnnd having been to the White House it is indeed boring as shit. Not much they could do there…
I solved one of the first puzzles which was an actual puzzle-puzzle and provided vital observations to solve the last puzzle. The rest BF and BFF worked on, which was fine by me. My brain still struggles with this particular kind of pattern recognition (as well as working the locks!) That being said I was surprised I wasn’t the only one having a tough go of it. We had to ask for a hint three or four times (usually we try not to ask for any.) But hey we still got it, and it still counts!
Would I suggest this escape room? I would to people who are already good at escape rooms. I don’t know about their other choices, but this particular room was on the challenging side and probably not a great introduction to escape rooms if you’re a newbie. However, if you’re a veteran by all means this one was a good one!
Since we were out and about already it seemed like a good idea to see if there were any antique stores in the area we hadn’t already hit. That’s how we found MINE. It was a sweet little place, really a refurbished barn with several lofts, all with interesting things in it. I’m not sure if the store is new or not but I feel like it might be because it seemed to be a lot of things. The main floor was mostly antiques and nautically themed decor but off to the side was a whole section that was more of a crystal shop. And upstairs? Retro clothing galore including old Halloween masks and costumes! I tried on some hats but alas I must have an enormous head because none of them fit. Shame. and not to be disappointed this place had a small assortment of probably haunted dolls and doll heads, you just can’t beat that. This place was also filled to the brim with paintings of every genre. This would be a wonderful place to go shopping for your bare walls!
All and all it was a sweet little find, worth the little detour, and a nice place to wander for an hour or probably less. It was of moderate size. Quirky though! And you know how much I love quirky! (Seriously there was a pair of lobster flip flops there… flip flops that looked like lobsters… that’s peak quirky there!)
Going to Old Mystic Village has become something of a habit as of late. Several times a year we now go there to taste flavored honey, poke at the little shops, and delicately nibble on macaroons from Alice’s Teashop. But October is special because in October they decorate the grounds with scarecrows. Each shop has one and they are pitted against each other in competition – the best being voted via phone poll by passersby. I fear we were early this year as there weren’t many up but we still enjoyed looking at them. Regretfully I didn’t get a photo of the scarecrow dog made of a burlap sack but he was pretty damn cool too. Also loved the creativity of the one inspired by Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds.
Since I spent my actual birthday with family I decided to spend a second day just living it up with BF and BFF. Such is the way I organize my double life in two states. ANYWAY, to start off the celebrations we went to an old haunt – the Blue Plate Diner, which I’m not sure I’ve mentioned on this blog before because we’ve been there so many times. That being said the staff is always friendly, the food is delicious, and this Nutella French Toast was the perfect sugary sweet way to start a whole day of not giving a fuck about anything!
It’s that time of year again – my birthday, and I decided this year it might be fun to find two bakeries and pit their cakes against each other in a sugary sweet death match. But alas, I did not realize bakeries these days are hidden establishments only getting customers via word of mouth with entrances that may or may not require a secret handshake to get in. Long gone are the days of boozy speakeasies, these days it’s all about the sweets. Only those in the know can go into a diabetic coma like a king!
On this particular day I’d chosen two bakeries somewhat nearby. The first was in Peterborough and had high reviews. I love Peterborough and am familiar with the area but the bakery was nowhere to be seen. Was my GPS toying with me or was it hidden? I didn’t know but I decided to leave it be and try to find another bakery that Google suggested before I left but it mysteriously wasn’t coming up in searches anymore. I was already starting to feel like the pastry gods were out there just fucking with me. I had to drive halfway home and ask Google again before it finally stopped gaslighting me and gave me the address.
It’d be another long drive through the woods, so weird and winding that at one point I passed a near life-size wooden T Rex skeleton leaping from the tree line on someone’s property.
This bakery wasn’t in the woods though, it was on Main Street, so I figured it’d be super easy to find, right? Nope, drove right by it several times as I looked. When I did find it on a street corner it had what looked like a 3-car parking lot but it was beyond an old beaten down curb. Do people park there?? I turned up the side street it was on and found a car parked on the sidewalk, a small parking lot directly across the street saying it was only for municipal parking. When I drove down main street I couldn’t tell if there was streetside parking or not as there were no lines painted and no cars in sight, although there was one handicapped parking space marked out which seemed to imply beyond it was also parking but I honestly couldn’t tell. I drove probably an eighth of a mile up the road and found a truck parked in front if the police station. Figuring this was the sign I was looking for I parked behind him and walked to the damn bakery.
It was a really small place and I was clearly the only customer in there. The woman working there seemed very happy to see me. I asked her about her cakes and she had chocolate, vanilla, lemon, and carrot. I went for the largest (which was still a petite round cake.) It was vanilla flavored. Looking around this place also had cookies, cannolis, scones, muffins, and really a decent assortment of pastries for such a small place.
I was told this place sells out every day and I’d gotten there at just the right time – between noon and one – which was a dead zone between the morning crowd and the after church crowd. Good to know!
The cake was $22 and oddly heavy for it’s size. As it’s now autumn it was decorated with red, yellow, and brown flowers. As for the flavor it was dense and moist, anything I could have wanted for a little vanilla cake. I would like to return some day to try some of the other options, otherwise this was a sweet little place for a tasty treat if you live in the area.
For the sake of making Catching Marbles more accessible this is the first blog entry which I am trying to post a reading of the entry to listen to. So, if you are so inclined enjoy, otherwise feel free to read it yourself and look at all the pretty pictures! Much love! ~Theo
Provincetown has been on my bucket list for a number of years, but I didn’t really know what to expect. All I knew was that it was a long drive and whomever I brought with me had to be really cool with a whole lot of shit. No prudes, no relatives, just merciless sarcasm and innuendo, like an episode of Hazbin Hotel! (which if you haven’t seen it yet it’s on Amazon Prime. Go watch it. Right now.)
ANYWAY, why would I want to visit New England’s queerest corner? Why wouldn’t I?! I figured it must be a neurodivergent heaven! I mean 1 out of every 6 normal people define themselves as gay but if you only poll autistic people…. literally over 70% of us identify as various flavors of the rainbow. Basically, it’s a giant blinking bug zapper to people like me.
Be this as it may I did not know anyone in my circle wanted to go and was more than happy to take some hostages on this venture. So, with BF and BFF in tow we made our way to Commercial Street, which I am going to say now IS NOT MADE FOR CARS. Do not drive down it! You will be MOBBED with pedestrians and only able to go at max 2 miles an hour until you find a parking lot. The parking lot I found was $15 and came with an attitude. Was I just learning how to drive? No sir, your instructions just suck and it’s making me nervous you’re standing directly in front of my car while I park. I suspect the $20 parking just down the road came with less guff. And a hanging sculpture of a Great White at the entrance….
Now that that was settled we all got out of the car and started our ambling. This was going to be another adventure in ADHD. We were immediately distracted by gargoyles. Fucking GARGOYLES. So, we walked away from Commercial Street to figure out why on earth there was a tower full of gargoyles overlooking the town. As it turns out this was the Pilgrim Monument. For a cool $20 you could take an elevator to the top. Or you could pay nothing and just read the pretty plaques probably stating that the pilgrims first landed in P-town not Plymouth. They merely wandered off and settled in Plymouth.
From here we decided to go back to Commercial Street which was FULL of summer tourists and pride flags of all persuasions. Some of them even flew out of the eaves of Seamen’s Bank which made us all giggle like twelve-year-olds. To be honest everything here seemed to be written with a wink and a nod. Never have I seen an oyster bar so thirsty. “Real men eat it raw.” (I’m really starting to wonder how I am going to contain the rest of this entry within the PG range for the angry and decidedly prudish AdSense gods.) Especially since the first thing we saw was this alleyway covered in…. I’m going to say erotic art. And baby doll heads in cages. My kinda weird.
It wasn’t all adult oriented. We started off within the normal area of family friendly activities stopping by a candy shop and checking off another bucket list item – trying saltwater taffy. It was soft! And sweet… and… I don’t have much of a sweet tooth but I’m glad I tried it anyway. The orange flavored ones were the best. From here we wandered into a little hippie shop with T-shirts and hippie clothing, funny bumper stickers and the usual touristy shit, and a forbidden staircase to the above 18 crowd. Wait, what? You can’t just dangle a forbidden staircase; curiosity will kill the cat (but satisfaction will bring him back.) So, what was up there? A weird convenience store of dildos and hookahs and bongs and pipes and more adult toys… just an overwhelming blizzard of rainbow colors… and textures… and why does this dildo look like it’s made for a platypus? (If you know, you know…and if you don’t you probably shouldn’t google what’s up with platypus bits.)
ANYWAY. We came across a lot that afternoon. Much of it was perfectly tame like a T-shirt shop for funny T-shirts that “can be printed in 9 seconds! Just pick a design!” As well as galleries, so many galleries with such a range of topics. There was even one that was just hyper detailed photos of your eyes. Or someone else’s eyes, but I’m pretty sure the point was to make it your own. And there was an AIDS monument we accidentally found as well as another monument with a ship on it that I would have read if I weren’t also trying to run and catch up with my crew. Lollygagger.
The whole street seemed to be places to eat, dispensaries, adult stores, galleries, tourist traps, billboards for drag shows (dammit, I want to see Hedwig live now!) and a smattering of bookstores. One such bookstore I’m pretty sure was a fairy trap. My companions, also twelve at heart, said damn straight it is a fairy trap. It was down a long alley that was completely covered in vines. How is that not some sort of fae attempt at luring unsuspecting humans?! We’re all idiots because we walked right into it. And it was sweet! A little quiet used bookstore with some really interesting titles… granted a large selection for the LGBT+ community. I enjoyed it.
Then we ended up walking by yet another sex shop but this one had signs in the windows none of us could ignore. One was the shop’s name, “Toys of Eros: More toys than the devil has sinners!” One point for the Greek mythology reference, another for the blasphemy, can we make it any better? Oh yes, they can also have a sign on the door that says they won’t sell to bigots except with MUCH more colorful language. I want to post a photo I took of it on FaceBook but I’d have to censor 30% of the words. SIGH. And beside all that there were promises of a sex museum! Fine… we’ll follow the free candy sign into the big black van just this once. The sex museum was more of an entryway full of terrifying cake mixer looking vibrators. Did you know that the electric vibrator predates electrical outlets? They had to be plugged into light bulb fixtures! So, I guess you can diddle or have light but you can’t have both. They also had a merkin. Looked like a dead rat. And some other things. Of course, by this time we’re in the shop. Clever ploy sex nerds, clever ploy.
First, we saw the case of glass twat ticklers. Slightly terrifying but I’m sure they were phantasma-orgasmic. I was then distracted by a rack of leather puppy masks, which are just… so… perfect…. for wearing when you go back in time just to scare the hell out of people. Hey, no one said it had to be a sexual thing. Sometimes, intrusive thoughts need love too. You could totally be a cryptid. I believe in you. ANYWAY, back to the task at hand – there was a wall of whips and switches and floggers with which to fondle all under a flying mannikin descending from the ceiling on a sex swing. Speaking of uses against manufacturer’s instructions I knew someone once who hoisted her rottweiler into a tree with one of those so she could spray her bath-hating pup down with a garden hose. Try getting that image out of your head.
I think the store clerk was bored because at this point she approached us and started showing us a whole rack of pocket pussies. You may wonder why a gay man and a woman would entertain such a thing but I wasn’t going to walk away without poking at it and HOLY SHIT this feels more real than my own flesh and blood bits! Whaaaaat is going on here?! This is where morbid curiosity gets you. Pondering what decisions in life brought you to this exact moment. They also had some that were less hyper realistic and more demure – and by that I mean hidden in what looked like a coffee thermos. I’m just saying, if I opened up my thermos one day and the death of Adam stared back at me from with it… Well, it’d just make the whole rest of the day weird, you know. Awkward weird. Naked Lunch weird.
It’s OK though because past the trans-friendly corner there was a delightful selection of vibrating muff marauders. Again, the clerk made sure to turn on every one and hand them to me and my companions. So many speeds, and vibration patterns, textures, and sizes. Cute little ones and ones that looked like they were made by Black and Decker complete with attachments. Purple ones, pink ones, black ones, shiny ones. Ones that thrust as well as vibrated! Hell, there was even one that sucked. Quite literally. It was a suction device for lady beans. That one was called the Womanizer. Of course, hearing that I tried to goad the clerk into telling me what was the most offensively named product in the store but she shied away from my cheerful trolling. Shame. I would have enjoyed that list.
As we left the clerk let it slip she was from NH and I had to ask where exactly. This resulted in her asking where I was and when I told her she had the same not great opinion of my town. Said the only good thing about it was the Walmart and the people were miserable. Guys, I’ve been saying this for years, and everyone always says all small towns suck but low! I’ve never felt so validated in my life to meet a complete stranger who sees the unique shittiness of my hometown. BIG SIGH!
It’d been a long but fun day. We’d found food and places to poke at and were really just heading back to the car when we saw a young woman across the street sitting at a typewriter with a sign reading something like, “I’ll write a poem for you.” This intrigued all of us to varying degrees and we went to see what that was all about. In short order we found ourselves talking to her and telling her about our day to which she took a notecard out, placed it in her typewriter, and in the matter of a minute managed to concisely summarize our day with some pretty words. It warmed my Beatnik heart and provided a beautiful souvenir. We decided to give her $20 for her efforts. And you can follow her on Instagram! @sticky6wordbandit
It was getting late and we were heading back to the car but that’s always perfect for yet more distractions. This time we’d be playing with a bunch of dead bugs. There was a whole shop for them! Just… butterflies in frames… and weird creepy crawly keychains… Made my inner bug loving twelve-year-old very happy. And finally we wandered into a well-lit and empty gallery because we’d seen one of the paintings from the street that looked decidedly like an all-male orgy melted like candles into each other in some sort of acid induced hallucination. The other art ranged from beautiful and serene to more erotic scenes. Then there was a little sign pointing to a dark streetside staircase reading, “there’s more in the basement!” Another fairy trap. I wasn’t about to but after reading the sign aloud my companion said we should go down and a disembodied voice from the underworld yelled, “YEAH! YOU SHOULD!” You guys, no, this is definitely a fairy trap. We’re gonna be disappeared. But alas the basement was just a TINY room barely big enough for the three of us and the disembodied voice was the artist who swooped by and up the stairs with all the deftness of… well, I guess a fairy.
I really liked some of the really close up paintings of blueberries and fruit. Sadly, I didn’t have 2 or 3K on me. But none the less I wished him good luck as I popped out of his gallery and into the night. We all agreed that as fun as today was we’d still like to come back and see more. And so that’s how our day ended… with sweet beautiful whimsy and more than a little innuendo. Totally worth it.
This entry has to be the most ADHD adventure we have ever taken. It started because we were in search of a public bathroom and google was more than happy to oblige. That’s how we ended up at this lovely little park. I didn’t need a bathroom but I noticed a little pier-kinda structure and I wanted to poke at it. Below it swelled swarms of little fish who breached the surface in a way that made it seem the canal water was boiling. As I stood trying to take photos of this a seagull carefully aimed its latest BM at my companion. It thwacked the deck of where we were standing with a wet slap. MISSED! Seagulls are such fuckers sometimes.
As my other companion came out of the bathroom and found us we all noticed there was a really populous pedestrian and bike path aside the canal. Should we check it out? We’d already had a REALLY full day and it was approaching evening. Hey look! Birds! And so we found ourselves walking down this path with a bunch of other people, all different paces, us getting increasingly distracted by the alarmingly calm wildlife. We first approached a huuuuge swarm of cormorants just gathering atop a bridge. Not far from them there was several storks just fishing, not a care in the world to the people going by, of course sea gulls continued to make their presence known, and then as it was evening the bunnies and groundhogs started showing up…
By now we’d already walked quite a way but there was a bridge not too far away. We should just walk to the bridge, I suggested. The closer we walked to it the farther away it seemed to become! And at some point my body had had enough with my bullshit and I just started overheating like an old steam locked car. Since we had not planned to go for a full hike after a trip to the bathroom no one as carrying water. I contemplated climbing down the banks of the canal and dipping my feet in the water. Eventually we made it somewhat close to the bridge where there was a bench that I promptly melted into.
By now the sun was going down and there was this gorgeous pink hue in the sky highlighting the bridge and reflecting on the water. SO GORGEOUS. I could not have planned this if I tried! And so even though my body was fucking done with me and I was in pain and turning all kinds of funny colors I was still with it enough to be completely and utterly thankful for this absolutely bonkers detour because the photos I was taking were so well worth it, as was the time spent with some of my favorite people.
It was A DAY. A long, weird, whimsical day and this was the perfect way to end it. or at least end the adventuring part as we shuffled back into the car and drove into the great blue yonder. This was a surprise destination for sure but if you’re in the area and aching for a good enjoyable walk (or bike ride) check it out! The scenery was amazing!
