I stopped by roadside America’s “Alien Watchtower” out of sheer curiosity to see what it could possibly be.
The tower itself was fairly uninteresting as it was a small white dome with a platform built above it and lawn chairs scattered haphazardly around the area.
However, just outside was a place they call “The Garden”.
Supposedly, as the lady informed us, it was the site of two vortexes that were portals to alternate dimensions. She told me that if I left a part of my aura there that the guardians of each portal would help my leg but only if I accepted it.
It was an interesting thing to listen to and hard for me of my personal knowledge to put too much stock into it. There was something else that I found inspiring.
The Garden was covered in the trinkets and personal belongings of hundreds upon hundreds of people who had passed through.
Coins from around the world, license plates, state ID’s, hair dryers, sunglasses, shoes, statues, necklaces, rocks, business cards, toys, Walkmans, iPod’s, phones and everything else you could imagine.
It was a garden comprised of pieces of peoples lives who believed they could be helped. It was the culmination of travelers taking the same roads I was. I wondered about who the first was. Who placed the first item and walked away from it to live out his life in a different part of the world.
There was a history at my fingertips. I didn’t believe in the vortex or the guardians, but I wanted to leave my mark. I wanted to be a part of this garden.
If you go, Look for the blue sunglasses.