Lookout and labyrinth

Hello, folks! It's been a while.

What have I been doing, you may ask? Well, Captain Midnight and I moved. We're still in a nifty computerized Batcave somewhere around the Puget Sound, but in a slightly different location. And this time, we bought the place.

Since our new place is not just in a new town, but in a whole 'nother county, and since I really don't know anyone around here other than Captain Midnight, Miss V and Charlie-cat, the move has been more than a little discombobulating. It doesn't really feel like home yet -- more like a very long stay in a very large hotel room -- so in an attempt to drive myself out of a funk and get a general feel for the area, I've been running around looking for strange and wonderful things to see and do. So far I've found the eight-foot-tall gnome outside a random residence, the cute little waterfront shopping area, the amazing pizza joint, the hobbit hole, the most scenic drive from the docks to our house, the wooden troll that guards a local nursery, several hole-in-the-wall spots that sell fantastic pancit and lumpia (there's a large Filipino presence here), our local library and, yes, Trader Joe's.

But one of my favorite discoveries, made thanks to Atlas Obscura, was one I visited today -- the Halls Hill Lookout and Labyrinth, near the south end of Bainbridge Island.

Red arrow shows approximate location of today's adventure.
Map courtesy OpenStreetMaps.

Bainbridge is only physically connected to the mainland by one tiny bridge at the far northwest end of the island, spanning Agate Passage. So aside from the traffic that flows off the ferry from Seattle past the town of Winslow, up the state highway and across the bridge to the rest of the Kitsap Peninsula, most of Bainbridge is the road less traveled. The whole island functions as a kind of artists' retreat, and everywhere you go there are signs of creative people at work.

Today's adventure is no exception.

Halls Hill Lookout, which overlooks Blakely Harbor to the south, is a privately-owned park that's open to the public. It's been here for some time, but the labyrinth is a relatively recent addition.

The mosaic labyrinth was completed in June 2014 by Portland-based stone artist Jeffery Bale. Most of the work was completed with stones gathered from local beaches around the island, but there are also a few glittery surprises to find.

Well, let's follow the yellow brick road, shall we?

And here's what we find at the end: a Chartres-style labyrinth worked in stone.

Labyrinths like this one are meant to be a kind of walking meditation. There's one path in, and the same path out. The path twists back on itself in unexpected ways, so that if you are walking the labyrinth along with someone else who's much farther along on the path, you may be walking side by side at times. When you reach the center, you are encouraged to pause, recharge and seek mental clarity before turning to retrace your steps to the entrance.

There are numerous flowers worked into the stone of the labyrinth's path.

Also wonderful found objects, like this metal lock embellished with a Hindu deity...

...and geodes and other shaped rocks and shells as well.

I walked the labyrinth today seeking something very specific. I'll let you know if I find it.

Anyway, there's more than just the labyrinth to be discovered. This, for instance, is the community prayer wheel, cast by artist Tom Jay and first displayed here in 2004.

If you spin the prayer wheel nine times, it rings a 300-pound bell inside. (I tried it; the bell made more of a CLONK than a BONG sound, not as impressive as I'd hoped.)

Well, moving on.

The paths and gardens in this area are meant to look like composed wilderness. The trees and other plantings are mostly local species. (Lots of salal berries!)

There are also plenty of places to sit, look out over the landscape, and compose your mind.

And as you look around, you may find other faces looking back at you.

This bridge over a small stream is cut from one massive tree trunk.

There are beautiful views of the harbor. Here's a peek at a swim dock out in the water.

Everything feels well-planned here; even the dormant grasses are a beautiful gold against the green.

Yet another face staring back at me, this one high in a tree.

Just by the entrance, there's a little dahlia cart out today. It's prime dahlia season in this area.

Everything for sale here is offered on the honor system. You take what you want and leave money in the box. Fortunately, most visitors are honorable.

I did catch this little visitor making off with some nuts. (Sorry about the blurriness; he didn't do a great job of holding still.)

Who knows whether the labyrinth does what it's meant to do, but any connection to nature and to art is bound to be healing. I left Halls Hill feeling much more composed and calm than I was when I entered. (Also hungry. Time to get some dinner.)