Today I walked the labyrinth with a friend for the first time in quite a while. Little did I know that in that one simple act I would experience the fullness and the heart of all that is Prairiewoods. We walked through the woods on the way to the labyrinth, in golden light, and felt the gentle breeze that passed through the trees waving their last leaves at us. We heard the cry of a magnificent hawk, gliding overhead. And as we neared the entrance to the labyrinth we surprised a handsome buck from his rest. He contemplated us as we gazed at him and took pictures to remember the moment. As we approached the beautiful new entrance to the labyrinth, crafted by an Eagle Scout and his team, we considered the path in front of us. What quiet joy rose in my heart to see a path marked with the intermingled footprints of the creatures who call this place home and the humans who find solace here. Big round walnuts and brown and curling oak leaves the size of my hand decorated the path, signs of the season, transitions and the hint of new beginnings. We set out on this sandy path with open hearts, sometimes the way unclear but always present. As we found our way to the center, we stopped to acknowledge east, west, south and north and considered the stone left behind by another traveler with one word—courage—etched upon it. It seemed the labyrinth knew we had entered carrying our curiosity about future possibilities like that big warm walnut in our hands.
Walking the labyrinth, I need no special language, no particular ritual, just the willingness to listen, to encounter, to walk with an intention and trust in the winding path as it unfolds. And, like today, I often find an unexpected gift at the heart of the journey. This is also true of Prairiewoods and what we hope all might experience here.
—Leslie Wright, Prairiewoods director
photo by Annette McGinley