I Went to a Prison

In May 2017, I road tripped in Idaho. My favorite places were Craters of the Moon National Park, Hells Canyon, Coeur d’Alene, and Boise. It was hot in Boise. I discovered online that tubing the Boise River was a popular summer activity. Please, hand me an inflatable tube. Unfortunately, the rental website stated that due to flooding tubing was prohibited. 

*Pictures below: Shoshone Falls, Nez Perce National Forest, & Hells Canyon National Recreation Area petroglyphs

I toured the air-conditioned capitol building, an art museum, a church museum, and the downtown library. At supper, I had no trouble drinking an excellent butterscotch milkshake from the Westside Drive-In. During the day I had asked a local for ‘must see’ Boise suggestions. The most intriguing was the decommissioned Old Idaho Penitentiary. It had been upcycled as a museum and shared land with the Idaho Botanical Garden.

 

The next morning, I strolled through the Idaho Botanical Garden’s tidy English garden, paused in the Asian meditation garden, explored the free-spirited Lewis and Clark Native Plant Garden, and wondered about a handful of tombstones tucked in the back. I left blossoms and fragrances for the stone-solid prison and its intimidating guard towers. The cellblocks’ design and history communicated conquering criminals. The women’s cellblock emanated sorrow. In the main yard, I found lawn, trees, and rose bushes. The vibrant and healthy roses grew in space previously sown in fear and desperation. That garden made me wonder how the not-so-pretty aspects of my life, and in the greater world, could be replanted and thereby transformed. It was an unexpected contemplation in an unlikely place.