field labyrinth
gallery
Sue had wanted a labyrinth for about eight years. She told me that people said they would help her create one, but it never went beyond a conversation. She would mow spirals into her land in anticipation of a day when an actual labyrinth would materialise. When I said that I’d come and make one on her land she didn’t think it would go any further.
We began by drinking mint tea seated in her workshop/studio drawing labyrinths. After some discussion to see if we were on the same page we went to see the land, thinking about the size and best location.
After the first day of discussing and walking the ground, I went away calculated the dimensions, and did some sketches. The second day we took a tape measure, some rope, tent pegs and a wooden cable reel to put in the centre. Originally the cable reel was only put there to hold the space whilst we made the labyrinth, but it became a permanent fixture as it made a perfect seat once you made it to the middle. A perfect place to sit, contemplate, and chat whilst observing the view. The goal was to get the outside path mowed into the ground and the central path marked, ready for when we were able to mow the whole labyrinth into place.
On the third day the labyrinth came into existence. The paths were complete, and the walls for the most part intact. Only a couple of places we had accidentally miscalculated and mowed in the wrong place. A slight hiccup as we knew they’d quickly grow back. Once that was done it was ready to walk.
Sue loves to work with the changing seasons, listening to the land and rewilding, sensitive to the wild life and natural balance.
May
July
experiencing the field labyrinth change
Once the labyrinth was mowed, it was ready to walk. The walls were made from being left uncut. Even though they were low, the distinction was clear, and the path was ready.
My initial understanding about a labyrinth was that it was a personal practice, a private meditation. But what I’ve experienced as I’ve gone up to the land, is the shared experience as I walked it with Sue. There is something quite special about meandering on the path together. Stopping along the way and observing insects, tiny flowers, noticing droppings of some creature that had wandered upon it revealing its presence, and the conversations that arose within that.
The labyrinth was complete, a whole, like a seed, in its infancy, but ready now to grow and change. I was intrigued to see how it changed over the seasons, intrigued to see how Sue would hold it and cultivate it.
Over the summer the wild chicory and wild carrot grew tall and swayed in the breeze. The blue flowers of the chicory and white blossoms of the carrot, brought something new.
The seasons changed and autumn came, and Sue cut the growth down. She’s placed metal rods strategically around the outer wall, located like on a compass in the cardinal spots, and she tied ribbons around them which fluttered in the changing winds. Her sensitivity and relationship to the elements will inform what she does with this labyrinth.
I look forward to seeing how she is inspired by the nature around her and how the weather plays a part in its story.
September