Out of the maze and into the labyrinth

There's a church here in town with a labyrinth painted on the wood floor of an upstairs room.



Monday was rainy. We had just dropped some books off at the library and were driving down Monroe considering the next stop on a napless afternoon when we passed the church.



When Calder was much younger I wondered when would be a good age to take him up there to walk the path. Three turned out to be the answer.



He enjoyed walking the path, making up his own games, chasing me, chasing him, laying on pillows in the center.



We had the room to ourselves. The afternoon light of a grey day coming in through the stained glass windows and the sound of cars passing on the wet street below.



I carried a glass jar of coffee warming my hands and my belly as I walked and talked with Calder on Monday afternoon.