The labyrinth symbol crosses cultures, time and meaning: maze, prison or trap, path of pilgrimage or spiraling journey to inner peace.
Steve Grumm hews to the latter meanings in his spiritual practice, and calls the Halls Hill Labyrinth one of the most interesting and “organic” he has ever experienced.
“It’s a place for stopping, not working, and just ‘being,’” Grumm said. “Every time I walk the labyrinth, I leave in a different place than when I came. Where does this happen? You usually have to go to sacred space like a cathedral to get this experience.”
At least for a day, the Halls Hill Lookout & Labyrinth experience was less about “being” and more about doing. Grumm was among two dozen volunteers who turned out to tend the Lookout grounds, the first-ever stewardship event since the property was donated to the Bainbridge Island Parks Foundation earlier this year.
Working in two small groups for Covid safety, volunteers weeded plant beds and bucket-brigaded 10 cubic yards of mulch to the farthest corners of the grounds.
More stewardship events are planned in the fall.
The Lookout & Labyrinth exists in a liminal space. By design, not a place of gathering – it’s technically not a park, and large groups and organized events are prohibited – yet drawing pilgrims of all sorts for reflection and insight. The artwork. The view. Perhaps just a few moments of sanctuary from a busy world.
Loanne Cheung, a recent transplant to the island from San Diego, found the Lookout while venturing out from nearby Wacky Nut Farm, where she and her husband rent a house.
An avid hiker, Cheung said she often comes across ad hoc stone labyrinths along the trail. Halls Hill is different, she said.
“Reading up on it and how intentionally it was done, it’s amazing,” she said. “It’s a hidden secret. Hopefully, nobody else knows about it and it gets too crowded.”
The secret is probably out. Solitary visits and short, quiet stays are still encouraged.
