You scramble down to the bottom of a steep cliff over an abandoned quarry in a place called the Sibley Volcanic Regional Preserve in the hills of Oakland, California, to get to where people have built a spiral labyrinth from small stones. In the center of this is a changing collection of small items like feathers, jewels, shiny pieces of glass like a crow would bring. Small trinket boxes with pieces of paper inside, messages. Sometimes the remains of fires are found in the center. The trees surrounding this labyrinth have colorful ribbons and small silver fairy bells tied to some of the branches. 

  There is a changing landscape around the labyrinth. It is sometimes flooded in the spring, when pennyroyal grows, but the surrounding landscape is dry and includes the twisting shapes of Manzanita. People seem to keep the spiral path weeded and the stones in their places. The labyrinth is renewed from time to time by people who visit and leave their treasures, mementos, and messages in the middle.   

I have visited when I felt I needed a special place to be, to walk in a way that clearly has no destination or purpose other than to follow a path in and out again, to see what change had brought and what had stayed the same.  The hike to get there and back is steep, but the spiral itself is a calm place, a navel in the belly where the quarry went deep. 

Grace cathedral in San Francisco has a smooth stone floor with an inlay of image that suggests a labyrinthine path. This is a place for Chistian walking meditation: “Walking the labyrinth has become a spiritual practice for Christians as well as those in other religious traditions. It is a path of prayer, a walking meditation, and supports the practice of mindfulness, … Grace Cathedral is home to two Chartres-style labyrinths — and to the Modern Labyrinth Movement that began in 1991,” their website tells us.