A vintage black rotary phone is housed inside a hutch that looks like a Little Free Library. The curious structure is set back from the shoreline and playground equipment at Arlington’s Bowman Springs Park.
Behind the small glass-front door is a memorial. The iridescent inside of an abalone shell glimmers next to an assortment of rocks and a piece of notebook paper with “I feel sore for you” written in a childlike scrawl.
It’s called a wind phone. It is not connected to an active line or recording device, but people still pick up the receiver to say hello to family, friends and significant others who are no longer alive…