In the middle of Story Land stands a small wayside chapel. Modern renovations to the park have largely bypassed it, and I suspect many casual visitors never realize it exists. Although I do not consider myself religious, I fondly remember the chapel from my childhood. It was always a quiet serene place in the midst of all the bustle.
I was worried that something might have happened to it in the almost-decade since I had visited the park, and I was relieved to find it untouched last August. Beth has almost outgrown Story Land; I took the opportunity to pause in the chapel to enjoy some nostalgia and say a quiet prayer of thanks for the life of Noah. It just seemed the thing to do.
Eight months later, we are smarting from the sudden loss of Zebro. I spent this evening doing chores and scanning negatives. I knew I had a roll of redscale for an upcoming project, and I had a mystery roll of color film waiting. I was pleasantly surprised to find this:
That is indeed my favorite little chapel, photographed the day I paused to remember Noah, reminding me to be thankful for the time we had and that life will go on.
I don’t know when I will have occasion to visit Story Land again. It will probably be with grandchildren someday. I hope whichever corporation happens to own it then understands how special their chapel is.
Notes from Mosquito Hill 