On the way to the Newman Festival, we drove passed a large roadside shrine.
Me: Oh. Look! A Shrine. I have to get a picture of that.
Marie: It's on private property.
Me: The gate is open. It's visible from the road. It's an invitation to enter.
Marie: Okay. I'm turning around.
Me: (Happy and excited)
Marie: They will tell us to leave.
Me: Only if they see us and don't want us here. Anyway, they left the gate open.
Me: (Taking pictures)
This shrine had been around for a while. The meditation garden is mature. The posters and pictures are faded. I think the shrine was in memory of a girl child. All the little gifts left there were Disney princesses, a pair a white pre-grown up shoes, and little girlie figurine. Oddly, there was nothing sad about it. Someone, or someones, had taken a lot of time to remember this little girl and keep her alive to the world.
After driving by this spot countless times, I have to ask myself why I had never seen it before. I guess the easy answer is, I had my nose in a book. I always read when I'm in a car. Don drives. I read. But today there wasn't a book in sight and this time - I didn't miss it.