Hidden in Suburbia 2011 (Part Eight): Secret Meadow

The largest undeveloped parcel of land within my Hidden in Suburbia range has long eluded me, as its perimeters are rendered formidable for three reasons:

  1. A good portion of its boundaries are defined by bogs and swamps that are beyond Trusty Steed’s capabilities.
  2. Most of the non-aquatic segments of its boundaries are blocked from easy road access by houses, fences, and backyards, through which I generally don’t pass.
  3. The owners have done a particularly fine job of properly signing its boundaries with “Posted” and “No Trespassing” signs, which I don’t cross, so long as they’re clearly presented and obvious.

I’ve done a lot of research trying to figure out how to get into the heart of what I’ve come to call The Secret Meadow, and have generally been foiled, time and time again. Until this week, when a low-expectation push from the east revealed an incredible network of large trails that are completely invisible to Google Maps and Google Earth due to rich, full, over-hanging foliage. While the aforementioned signage issue stymied me in the end, I actually got deeper into The Secret Meadow than I’d ever been before, and I was awed by what a beautiful piece of property it is, right smack in the middle of deepest, darkest suburbia, where you’d never expect to find it.

For your own peak into The Secret Meadow, click the photo below for the narrated version of this installment, or click here to see the wordless slideshow.

To see other Hidden in Suburbia photo essays, click here.

5 thoughts on “Hidden in Suburbia 2011 (Part Eight): Secret Meadow

  1. the wind blows round the standing stone
    rich with the fragrance of her spells
    inside a circle drawn with bone
    she dances wrapped in veils and bells

    ash maidens hum their ancient drone
    naiads emerge from empty wells
    the wind blows round the standing stone
    rich with the fragrance of her spells

    tied to the rock I weep and moan
    drawn here by her sensuous smells
    trespassing through their sacred dells
    a sin for which I must atone
    the wind blows round the standing stone
    rich with the fragrance of her spells

  2. Pingback: Hidden in Suburbia 2011 (Part Nine): Farewell, Latham « INDIE ALBANY

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