High noon at Potters Hill labyrinth

Rituals and shenanigans

I am in my happy place when we get to the top of the hill and reach the labyrinth with its 360-degree views across Tinderbox Hills to the west, South Arm Peninsula to the north, Bruny Island to the south, and Tasman Peninsula to the east. I tell Alan that if I go before him, I want to have my ashes thrown from here.

‘Me too, if I go first,’ he says.

‘It’s pretty special isn’t it … and do you know what else I like about this place — our relatives would all have to walk up the hill to get here. I like to think of them doing that. It would make them healthier.’

Alan laughs, ‘It might keep them alive. They would thank us for that.’

It’s a perfect winter’s day. Sunny with no wind, a big blue sky, intriguing clouds, and the remnants of a Bridgewater Jerry creating a wispy veil between the many folds of the mountains towards the northeast. We sit on a bench seat to have a cup of tea in the enamel picnic mugs that Shauna recently gave me. Our view is of the narrow strip of land between the wide sheltered waters of Ralphs Bay and Storm Bay. We can hear the waves thumping along Hope Beach and see Betsy Island a little way out.

A young couple who have followed us up the hill decide to walk the labyrinth. They are obviously in love as they stop periodically to entwine themselves. With the sun directly behind them, they create fetching silhouettes but I am keen for them to move on.

I’ve come here with a mission. I have some rituals to do. As well as a walking meditation of the labyrinth and a visit to my favourite, big white dead tree, I also want to hold an ogoh-ogoh ceremony (in the vein of Hobart’s Dark Mofo tradition: a symbolic burning of our fears). I’ve brought along a page from my journal with a list written on it, and a box of matches. I intend to burn the page somewhere up here and would rather no one else is around so that I don’t look like a crazy woman or a pyromaniac.

The young couple depart, but another young, courting couple appear. What’s with this place? These two set up a picnic blanket slightly below the top of the hill and don’t seem at all interested in the labyrinth or us. Just as I start walking slowly between the stones of the labyrinth an older woman turns up. She starts walking the labyrinth as well. She has a nice calming presence and we smile at each other. We cross paths, and when I reach the middle and sit on the big rock she tells me there is a better, flatter rock to perch on.

I finish walking the labyrinth and visit the big white dead tree. It looks like a skeletal creature with an exuberant number of arms. Next, I set up my burning spot and try to get a flame going. It takes a while until it is smoldering away amidst all the dried wallaby poos. My journal page burns, and I bury the ashes and pour water over the ground. Meanwhile, Alan sits on the bench looking at the view, occasionally peering at his phone, and the picnicking couple gaze lovingly at each other.

Mission accomplished. It’s different each time we come here, especially the weather, but I always gain something from the experience. We head back down the hill for lunch at Touch of the Mo cafe at South Arm.

Thank you Alan for the photos.