We recently took a special starlight tour of the Minnesota State Capitol Building, one of the most majestic and beautiful buildings in Saint Paul. Designed in the late 1890’s by Cass Gilbert and opened to the public in January, 1905, the building towers over the city. The exterior is made of white marble and granite, and the unsupported marble dome is the second largest in the world. At the center of the first floor, under the massive dome, is a brass and glass star representing the North Star State. We toured the chambers of the Senate, the House of Representatives, and the Supreme Court, and we climbed to the roof and the base of the capitol dome to see the golden sculpture that’s called the Quadriga. Titled “The Progress of the State” it is a chariot drawn by four horses representing the powers of nature: earth, wind, fire, and water. At night the statues, which are covered with gold leaf, glow with the warmth of the lights illuminating them. From this high vantage point we could see the Cathedral of St. Paul which is down the boulevard from the Capitol, we could see the lights of the High Bridge spanning the Mississippi River, and we could look across the western sky to the downtown skyline of Minneapolis. It was the perfect late summer night to take in the beauty of this wonderful building and its surroundings.
Author: lindastaatsphoto
Life lessons learned from a death
This past week has been a time of reflection. The sudden and untimely death of my sister-in-law has remained fresh in my mind. I appreciate all the comments and emails, the cards of concern, and the thoughts and prayers; they’ve been helpful and comforting. I’ve struggled with what lessons I can learn from this death and many things have come to mind: (1) live a full life, each and every day, (2) plan for tomorrow, but live today, (3) don’t take anything or anyone for granted, (4) say “I love you” to the people you love, (5) extend a prayer of gratitude each morning for the grace of seeing the sun rise on yet another day. I have a magnet that I have kept on the refrigerator door for the past 15 years. So many days I don’t even notice it, but the words ring so true now: “Live with intention. Walk to the edge. Do what you love. Live as if this is all there is.” – Mary Anne Radmacher
Beginnings and endings
I write this entry with a heavy heart. Last weekend we journeyed south to the Kansas City area to celebrate the wedding of my brother and his new bride. A second marriage for both of them, they had found happiness and joy and the excitement of their shared future. Their honeymoon was planned to be a motorcycle ride along the North Shore of Minnesota – an area of pines, and water, and beautiful scenery. They headed out from our house Tuesday morning and had the time of their lives as they traveled along the shore of Lake Superior. But the joy turned to sadness in an instant when the bride had a massive stroke on Wednesday morning. Emergency responders were there quickly and she was airlifted to a trauma center in Duluth. My brother and I spent the next 36 hours finding our way amongst doctors, surgeons, phone calls and text messages with family out-of-state, and organ donation procedures. In the end, the damage to my sister-in-law’s brain was too extensive and she passed away on Thursday. We are all struggling with this untimely change of fate and the sudden slide from the joy of a wedding to the pain of a death. I mourn the loss of my sister-in-law; a delightful woman who was up to any challenge, who loved her sons and her new extended family, who enjoyed fishing, and who was so very much in love with my brother. And I mourn the loss to my brother who was so happy with his new bride and looking forward to their future life and adventures together. I know that the pain will diminish with time, but the hurt is still fresh from these contracted few days.
Daybreak
I woke up in the dark the other morning, crawled out of bed, slipped on my shorts, T-shirt, and hiking boots and headed out the door with my camera. I’ve replayed this scenario so many times over the years. About 10 years ago I was living in Washington and would drive to Mount Rainier to see the sun rise over the mountains. Now I’m in Minnesota and I drive a few blocks and I’m walking through fields of tasseled corn, the temperature already at 80 degrees. In both instances I’m aware of so much more than the view in front of me. There are smells (whether of towering firs and cedars or agriculture fields) and there are sounds (of the creeks and streams that flow from the melting snow or the wind blowing through the corn and giving the geese thermals to float on). No matter where, there is so much that comes to life as the sun crests the horizon and the day breaks. The smoke from the wildfires in the west has drifted our way, giving our sunrises and sunsets a deeper shade of red and orange. This early-morning-time is ripe with the promise of the day (and the adventures) ahead.
Minnesota State Fair fine arts exhibit
The Minnesota State Fair is in full-swing and summer has made its hot and humid comeback too. But there is always cool artwork to be seen in the Fine Arts Exhibit. I’m happy to tell you that my entry “Single tree island, early autumn” was accepted into the exhibit this year. With a 15% acceptance rate, I feel exceptionally honored that my photograph was juried into the exhibit. If you’re attending the fair, be sure to spend some time in the Fine Arts Building. You’ll be treated to some beautiful, imaginative, creative, and unusual art of many kinds – all created by artists from the state of Minnesota.
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