pt 10: the hill by Omar Najam

In which guests take a little break from the pervasive mystery to soak in the landscape and atmosphere of the season.

Hello all, 

This year I’ll be, over the span of the next thirteen days, describing a Halloween-themed amusement park that I got to develop with Surena Marie, for fun, specifically for 13 Days.

As a big old imagineering nerd, this is a dream project and I’m so excited to share it with you all. Please excuse the shoddy sketches that accompany the overly written descriptions.

Enjoy.

Image by Albretch Fietz from Pixabay

But first, respite. 

Emerging from the castle of illusion, out of the bubble that is the void of magic, a small sense of what guests left behind when they crossed through the walls of Hallow Manor, everyone is tasked with seeking out the hamlet and delivering the stack of scrawled notes on the scraps of brown parchment. 

But first, respite. 

Perhaps it’s not apparent at first. It wont seem like a break for the guests. The instructions were vague, and therefore directions are needed. The castle on the hill provided only so much information, so now the adventurers have to gather more information on the hill itself. Time is of the essence, the diary was clear on this, the author of such demands alluded to disappearing due to the nature of this place, and of their failed experiments. 

It’s all so strange. All so confusing. Guests have only this set mission to guide them. 

But in what direction? 

To consider this, they’ll stop on the hill. A slow rolling hill that overlooks the park. From here you can see the Midnight Forest and all of its glittering lanterns. The Orchard with its slow moving apple trees. The bubbling sweet swamps and the smoke trailing up from the Craft Cottages. 

You can hear the games at the carnival on the pier. The waves breaking on the shore of Bonfire Beach. Even the distant desert of bandits and heroes. 

But no hamlet. No next stop. There’s just this hill. 

Which is interesting because it’s not just a hill. It happens to be THE hill. 

When one imagines an autumn hill, this is it. This is where that sentiment comes from. Not unlike THE forest and THE beach and THE orchard, this is the spirit of that sensation. This hill is why time moves differently in autumn. It could be late morning. Or early afternoon. Or early evening. It’s so very hard to tell. The time of day matters not. Just the comfort. 

This hill is like the memory of a hill. The memory of a hill from childhood. The grass is spongy and welcoming. The air is clean and cool. The sun is bright and warm. It’s all nourishing, as if the moment itself was a freshly cooked meal. Like a loaf of bread just broken in half. 

Guests need to find the hamlet. Need to find the book binder. 

But first, respite. 

Why, one might ask. In the midst of such purpose, why take a second to sit and look out at everything before them, everything they’ve visited? 

The mystery is there, whether they’re rushing or taking their time. All that excitement sits at the bottom of the hill. 

But for now, take a seat. Peer out at the view. Let time slow down like its sap dripping down a tree, its speed invisible. 

Come be nothing. Or at least so very little. Burdens lifted. Chests filled with air. Skin kissed by the seasonal light. 

Everything is greens and reds and browns and patches of yellows. 

It’s nice up here. 

But don’t they have something to do, one might ask. 

There’s always something to do. 

And this hill, this autumn overlook, is a reminder. 

There’s so much going on around us. So much to head to. 

But first, 

and always, 

respite.