The minute I pedaled up to the gate, the light changed. The sky turned it's back and left me alone to make my way up the path. I had no idea what I would find here. The old zoo ruins, in addition to all of Griffith Park, are said to be haunted by ghosts and undefinable creatures. I went anyway.
A small Chapel met me on the central lawn. The cloaked parishioners were silent in a prayer I never want to hear.
I should have turned then. I should have gotten on my bicycle and ridden the five miles home. Instead, I was pulled further up the path where another robed group lured me into their strange circle.
Behind them, in the darkness, I found a set of stairs. The bars kept me from seeking what awaited at the top or I surely would have gone. I no longer had any control over my curiosity.
Further I walked. Innocent stalks of corn whispered only slightly as I passed.
What had been contained in this place? What terrified creatures had looked out from these cages and barred confines? I felt their endless pacing, their pitiful cries at night.
Still higher I climbed.
Small trails led off into the forest but I did not go. My senses slowly began to make their return. I wanted to run but couldn't make my feet answer my cry for speed. Time stood still. Once I returned to my bike, walking it silently down the dirt road away from all that I'd seen, I could only think one thing.
I must come back.
