Recovered from the Wayback Machine.
My roommate decided I needed exercise for my painful back yesterday and took me to the Sculpture Park near our house for a gentle walk. Aside from the fact that I was walking somewhat like Frankenstein’s Monster (arms rigidly at my side, stiff backed, movements accompanied by occasional non-verbal grunts) and that we were prey to every West Nike infested mosquito for miles, the walk was very pleasant.
The park has several trails, some paved, some rough dirt, each with sculptures appearing in clearings and glades, across streams, forming pyramids. Fascinating, and very peaceful.
As we walked back to the car, a siren started to sound, first in one part of the park, then another, and another, until we were surrounded by the sounds of synchronized sirens. As one siren would soften, another would take up the cry, each echoing around us among the trees. It was probably one of the most astonishing sounds I have ever heard.
And then, as I was standing listening to the sirens, just ahead through the trees at the top of the hill we were climbing, I saw a jet fly past.
“Rob! Did you see that jet!”
“No. Where was it?”
“Through those trees over there”, I said, pointing, walking as quickly as I could to the top of the hill, past the trees only to be met with more trees. No airport, no runway.
When I arrived home I went online and searched everywhere for information about the Sculpture Park, the sirens, the plane. I could find nothing other than a description of the park and the statues.
I know there is a prosaic answer to what I saw. The plane was most liky from a nearby airport, its closeness an illusion caused by incorrect perspective. As for the sirens, they’re most likely an exhibit at the park or a test of the local emergency tornado warning system. Every question has an answer, a reasonable answer.
However, the experience I had yesterday is made magical by not knowing, not having the facts, and leaving the questions unanswered.
(And if you have the answer for my mystery, keep it as your little secret. Let me have my moment of magic.)
Update: photo of the dangerous West Nike mosquito.