This primordial-looking rock first emerged as lava around a billion years ago; now it’s the solid, chilly shore of the world’s broadest freshwater lake, including at this spot, the farthest north I’ve gone. You see here the eastern edge of Minnesota’s Gooseberry Falls State Park, a small, beautiful and popular Civilian Conservation Corps endeavor, much like Devil’s Den back in Arkansas. A few thousand others and I checked out the park last weekend.
I’d actually been to Lake Superior once before, more than a decade ago. That trip was Gooseberry’s opposite in some ways — to the opposite end of the lake in Michigan, 300 miles away, in the middle of summer, with soft sand beaches that come from cliffs of sandstone instead of black and deep-red volcanic rock. The lake that’s big enough to cover North and South America with 1 foot of water isn’t limited to one personality.
Tahquamenon Falls in Michigan, above, is impressive, and Gooseberry has several cascades of its own. We hiked from the shore back upstream along the Gooseberry River to reach them.
I have so much of Minnesota left to see — it’s almost twice as big as Arkansas — but it hasn’t disappointed yet. I’ll be back to the North Shore for sure, though. I’ve got to at least find a Lake Superior agate.
Thanks for looking,
If you missed the news, I’m now living way up north in the Twin Cities. It’s the biggest move I’ve ever made to the biggest place I’ve ever lived, as I keep telling all my new coworkers and acquaintances. I miss some of Arkansas’ people and places and weather; it’s been gray and chilly for most of my time here so far. Between the storms, I’ve started exploring this place, meeting some of its ducks and lakes, some of its people, its downtown and its Minnesota Valley National Wildlife Refuge, for a start.
The FairShare Farm community garden sits a few steps from my fourplex door, so that was one of my first stops. The growing season is obviously winding down, but some of the garden’s regulars tell me I should join the neighborhood clearings and plantings there over the next several months. I can’t turn that down.
This is a nice little corner of Minneapolis, a piece of a metropolitan area with more people than all of Arkansas. There’s a lot of life here, good and bad. Many of the people at the nearby farmers markets and shops originally hailed from the Caribbean, Latin America, Somalia, Russia and southeast Asia. Just south of here, scores of tents line one particular highway exit, and a grocery store keeps its supplies of baby formula and vanilla secure behind the customer service desk with the cigarettes. International flights roar over the wildlife refuge down near the Mall of America.
I’m looking forward to learning about the Twin Cities’ mixtures and contradictions.
Thanks for looking and following along with the journey.
Fayetteville on Friday put on its holiday season getup, switching on hundreds of thousands of lights around the downtown square. The event’s been plenty cold in past years, but this evening it was warm enough for T-shirts and shorts. Arkansas is part of the South, obviously, but it’s not so Southern that seeing a parade with Santa Claus with temperatures in the 60s is normal.
The temperature mismatch has corrected itself since Friday evening, but in my mind it does help show how we’re in a liminal, transitional time at the moment. It’s not quite winter, but more and more of the trees are bare. Some people have Christmas trees up while others won’t tolerate holiday music until after Thanksgiving, thank you very much. I’m still having a hard time believing it’s already the week of Thanksgiving at all.
We’ll snap out of it soon enough. In the meantime, I’ll take some advice from this lady: If you’re selling kettle corn, make sure you save some for yourself.
Thanks for looking.