SCULPTURE GARDEN

If you find yourself here, you've stumbled down the rabbit hole known as the Sculpture Garden. It has nothing to do with birds (aside from giving perch points), but is simply a collection of discarded farm and ranch equipment (OK, I admit it. . . junk) rearranged and realized into the Sculpture Garden, a small tribute in rusted metal to all things round and celestial. Almost nothing here is welded, but rather jimmied, balanced, or propped. It interacts with its environment and contains within its borders an actual croquet court, which can sometimes entertain those not entertained by sculpture.      (Alas, I'm still waiting for mail to arrive in the SG mail box.)      The Sculpture Garden is a living thing, always changing -- blown down or struck by lightening, kicked over by cattle, visited by birds. Each piece has a story to tell and the stories keep changing. A windmill fence is slowly emerging -- perhaps it will keep the yearlings away. Every so often I go there to assess the latest damage from weather and critters, and then put the toppled sculptures back to rights.      Over time the more durable pieces endure, and you can see a few of them here, these would-be suns, moons, and stars made from plough-shares . . . .