Trillium,
originally uploaded by tackyjulie.

On Saturday, Bob and I got up early to go see the trilliums at the Thompson Wildlife Management Area, near Markham, Virginia. It is the largest concentration of them in the state. The phenomenon is known as “Trillions of trilliums,” and that is not that much of an exaggeration. I’ve posted 34 photos from this outing on my Flickr site.

We took I-66 West from the DC area. It was about 50 miles to Exit 13 to Linden, VA. Soon after, we took a left, going East on Route 55. After maybe a mile, we took a left onto Route 638, and went back under I-66. We followed the road for a few miles until we saw signs for Thompson WMA. Be sure to follow the road as it takes a sharp right (if you miss the turn, you’ll end up in the Skyland Estates development like we did, and have to turn around). We did the trails in two areas: the Upper Ted Trail, and the Trillium Trail. Both had lots of trilliums. Most of them were still white, which means there will probably still be trilliums to see in early May.

We saw a few other wildflowers as well: rue anenome, yellow violets, wild geranium, bloodroot, cutleaf toothwort, and jack-in-the-pulpits. As for bird life, we heard plenty, but we were looking more on the ground on this trip than in the trees. Still, we managed to see two warblers: an American redstart and a worm-eating warbler. We heard towhees encouraging us to “drink your tea,” which was ironic, since I didn’t get any that morning due to the early start.

Hundreds of stones upon the ground formed a spiral path.  I found it at the Goldwell Open Air Museum in Rhyolite, Nevada.  Although it was in the midst of modern sculptures in a desert setting, it had no title or artist associated with it.  But I knew what it was; a place to walk and meditate.

I know that meditation, ideally, is about dismissing all thoughts from one’s mind and focusing on the here and now.  Given the disorder which is my mind, if I can get it to focus on only one thing, I’m doing well.

Bob and I came to the open air museum three days into our Death Valley vacation.  Before I left on the trip, I was plagued with worries about mortality and whether my existence on this earth has any meaning.  I highly recommend a drastic change of scene, if you can afford it, to chase away the mid-life angst I was feeling.  In particular, the works at the open air museum invigorated my mind and energized my mood.  The only question was, how could I keep this feeling with me when I traveled home at the end of vacation?

I stepped into the spiral and started to focus on one thought at a time.  In a way, I was making a request to the universe.  Please help me to accept life and its inevitable end.  Help me to appreciate the moment that I am in.  I repeated these two things as I strode the circle, looking down at the many stones on either side of the path.  Then I began to think of all the times in the recent past that I have felt as good about myself and about life as I did at that moment: finding the Hoodoo Marker, researching the Garden of Almanalogy, playing music with my friends.

I reached the center of the spiral, and looked up toward the sky, but nothing came to me at that moment.  So, I started winding back out of the spiral and as I did, noticed the variety of size, shape, and color of the stones.  There’s a place for everyone in this world, and no need for everyone to be the same.  I picked one of the stones to represent myself, and reached down to touch it with loving kindness.  The last thought that came to me in the circle is that I should seek out, as often as possible, those people, places, and things that make me feel happy to be alive.

Not long after this trip, I had another opportunity to follow the wacky side of life that I love so well.  I don’t know when or if I’ll get that story up on this blog, but if I do, at least you’ll know why I do what I do.