3.24.12 A New Season Begins

A bit of a murky morning, but you can take my word for it that spring has arrived here in Minneapolis, freakishly early but nonetheless welcome for that. The island has been crawling with tourists and other interlopers (read: non-residents) over the past couple of weeks, and it certainly makes it a more lively and interesting place. Yesterday, we met a number of neighbors and stood outside chatting for quite a while. Nice to finally meet a few new people, for instance, those we've only seen in passing, acknowledging each other with a wave or nod. Turns out the fellow next door who appeared somewhat aloof and curmudgeonly throughout the winter is actually quite friendly and has a nice smile when he chooses to unveil it.



Started my morning walk by taking the picture above of the railroad bridge, a shot which I feel has a nice balance to it and a bit of colorful interest supplied by the inexplicable orange hose hanging loose at its end, and the two orange lights beyond it. Love the latticed reflection in the river also. To the right are a few waterfowl. Well, two waterfowl anyway, with an island interloper in the form of a pigeon snobbishly turning his back on the other two. Unusual to see two ducks and a pigeon hanging around in such close proximity to one another, even if they are keeping a respectful distance. It seemed a good time to take a walk to the center of the bridge, so I did.

Here is the view to the southeast, where the river begins to veer off in an easterly direction before turning south again and continuing a short way before realizing it has forgotten to visit St. Paul and swings a U-turn and heads back north to do just that. The river does some very strange things before finally leaving Minnesota behind and riding the eastern edge of Iowa farther southward.

At this point I crossed the tracks and took a shot of the other side, where the river descends from the northwest. I realize this appears to be a grim gunmetal day, but I assure you that the sun is now shining and the island is in its springtime glory at this moment just outside my window. There's something very cool about being able to wander to the middle of this bridge anytime I like. I can leave my home and be here in less than one minute, and if I continue all the way across, in downtown Minneapolis in less than two minutes. Pretty awesome! Tonight we will walk across the Hennepin Avenue Bridge and continue through downtown until we reach Orchestra Hall to enjoy a performance of Varga, Haydn, and Schumann. It'll probably be a 30-40 minute walk, and hopefully the weather will remain favorable.


I couldn't resist sitting down in the center of the rails--in between the eastbound and westbound tracks--to take this shot. There's just something wonderfully lovely and romantic and aesthetically pleasing about train tracks. Maybe it's the cold hard industrial look of them, or the promise of travel embedded within them, of leaving one place for another, or maybe the idea of how much arduous labor went into laying them--I suspect all these factors contribute to the overall feeling one gets when contemplating a photo such as this one. Fortunately, a train didn't come along to disturb my tranquility. I took my pictures and sauntered on my way, back to the island to continue my walk.

Some of you may recall the photo included in an early post of this same sidewalk under the Hennepin Avenue Bridge, where someone had chalked in large block letters the words "FREE BRADLEY MANNING" -- this at a time when I'd had no idea who Manning was. It appears that the message has been updated, likely by the same pair of hands and same set of political convictions. The new message reads:
HOORAY FOR WIKILEAKS!!! FREE B. MANNING! FREE ASSANGE! INFORMATION MUST BE FREE!!!

Not being one to dwell on politics, I continued onward to the southeastern end of the island, where I chose this image to symbolize the arrival of spring. Rather lovely, I thought, the tree's first tentative thrusts of bright green contrasted against the comparatively dull, though sunlit, waters of the everpresent Mississippi River. Rebirth, it seems, is now all around me.

Returning home, I noticed the tree beside a neighbor's house, which only a few days ago, or so it seemed, was completely barren, yet here and now it has donned a garment of wondrous white, reminding me of a song I once sang to my children about "popcorn popping on the apricot tree." Though I doubt this is an apricot tree, it has nevertheless popped, and we are all the richer for it. When I was outside just a short time ago, getting something from the car, I noticed two men strolling along our block (tourists), who stopped to smell the blossoms on this tree. Good for them! Would that all of us could and would take the time to do likewise!

Life flows on, in and around us—and though it may remain dormant for a time, always it springs to life anew, within and without.

D.E.S.