There's a term in landscape design: desire lines. These are the paths worn into a place by preference created by the footsteps of walkers ignoring or avoiding the designated route. Writer Robert Macfarlane calls them "free will ways."
The park is filigreed with desire lines, some tramped into place long ago, some more recent. Sometimes you can see the struggle between where people want to walk and where the gardeners want us to walk. It plays out silently: logs are laid down to block an informal path and then there’s a new trail of flattened grass or a new opening between bushes as people try to reconnect with their desired line.
The power of paths is strong. The other day I spotted a line of fresh mulch leading up a small hill that previously was just a tangle of weeds and browning grass.
It was someone's well-crafted desire line tugging me away from the well-established path that I follow pretty mindlessly every day in walks with my dog. I veered onto it and let it lead me in a new direction. Cresting the rise I looked down into a little redwood-shaded gully I hadn't visited in ages.
There used to be a a pine cone labyrinth there that someone had laid down and marked with a sign reading "Nick's Labyrinth: Center yourself and add a cone." I wrote about it a year ago. I never found out who Nick was, but sometime later the sign was toppled and the spiral torn apart. It's possible Nick's creation was taken apart by a Rec and Park gardener; they're not supposed to allow unofficial signage. But there seemed such a squall of violence in the way it was demolished that I thought vandalism was more likely. Either way, I was sad that it was gone.
Now, there in the gully I saw a new pine cone labyrinth -- a kind of circular desire line. Not only that, there was a redwood bench and footstool nearby, inviting anyone who walked the spiral to then sit down and spend a moment in contemplation.
I don't know who created this guerrilla spot of Zen. I'm doubting it was done by Rec and Park since the bench isn't standard issue, more like something you'd buy at a garden store. Whoever you are, thank you.
For those interested in finding the labyrinth, it’s just south and west of the intersection of Lincoln and 25th Ave. And for more about desire lines, check out this lovely piece in The Guardian.
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Dear 1,017 subscribers,
First, thank you for your support. When I started this Substack, I naively promised that I would deliver weekly posts. You may or may not have noticed I haven't been living up to that promise --especially recently. Life and other work have been getting in the way. So rather than stew in guilt, I'm going to take a summer hiatus to finish up some other projects and recharge my batteries. I'll be back in September and I hope you'll be here too to join me for more Golden Gate Park adventures.
When I read your posts we are both 17 again and yet also 67. I really want to go to the GG park because you make it so enticing!
I always love reading your posts and TBH don't notice if I didn't get one for a week. Not that I don't love these posts, but time slips by so it's simply a happy surprise to get 1,107 Acres in my inbox. For this one, I would love any post that uses the word "filegree" (wouldn't that be a beautiful name?) and have loved the desire lines I find in the park. So glad you are taking note and reminding us to take the path no architect intended, but are carved out through a desire to go *there.*