Art in Massachusetts

One afternoon after a rainy morning, a former acquaintance and I were driving around somewhere near Boston;―looking for Walden Pond, I think,―and accidently drove up into an estate.

And after a bit, there was this huge column, 25 feet tall, of garbage. Multicolored, plastic, mostly laundry bottles,—garbage.

Me: That's art.
Her: No, it can't be.
Me: Yes, they mean it to be.
Her: Don't be ridiculous, it's garbage.
Me: I know, but they think it's art now.
Her: You're pulling my leg.
Me: Well, what else can it be? It's not recycling.
Her: Stop it, it's not art. They haven't sunk that low yet.

So, we looped the house, realized it was closed and that we probably shouldn't be there and that there were several other piles of arranged garbage on the property. When she saw the other piles, she started giggling that she thought I might be right.

On our way out, we passed through the gates, where there was a sign, "DeCordova Museum."

And we laughed all the way to Walden Pond.