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.
Saint Paul
Morning rain in the Japanese garden
I spent the morning at Como Park in the McNeely Conservatory and the Ordway Japanese Garden. Although we had the promise of bright sunshine and hot and humid weather for the day, the morning was cool and cloudy. The light was actually quite beautiful for photographing. I spent a half hour in the Japanese garden and was preparing to leave when I heard the sound of raindrops hitting the pond. As beautiful as the sound was, the sight of the large drops punctuating the calm water’s surface was delightful. I stayed through the rain showers and continued to photograph, enjoying the freshness of the rain, the cool of the morning, and the peacefulness and beauty that I found in the garden.
Lilacs
Spring is here. Abundantly. Everywhere we have flowering trees in bloom, tulips that are reaching upward toward the sunlight, and leaves that have burst forth. But one of my favorite blooms (and scents) of spring are the lilacs. We are fortunate to have them throughout the Twin Cities; not only do they grace yards and alleys, but they are also planted along the highways, streets, and county roads. On a warm and sunny day it’s a delight to drive along a road edged with lilacs and have their wonderful light scent float into the car. We have both the purple and white lilacs in our yard. Because of their delicateness and short life-span once they’ve been cut, I find I cherish them even more. Soon the blooms will be gone and the bushes covered with full leaves. But for now I will revel in their beauty and smell of everything spring!
Freesias, and the elusiveness of spring
Spring has been more than elusive this year for us in Minnesota. Our winter has lingered way longer than anyone wants, even threatening the long-awaited fishing opener next week. When we should have 60 degree temps, open water, and blooming flowers we have instead endured two snowfalls in the past week alone, temps in the 30s and 40s, lakes still covered in ice, and nothing blooming. But there is one place that is a haven of spring at this time of year – the McNeely Conservatory in Como Park. This has been my refuge and antidote for our cold and gray continuing winter. I found tulips and hyacinths, calla lilies and these lovely freesias. The perfect dose of colors, smells, and the promise of spring. Yet to come.
Spring, at last
Our spring has been delayed. Repeatedly. Yet just when we’d survived two snowfalls in the past week, the temperature surged above 60 degrees for the first time since last November. And then it topped 70 degrees, creating a mass exodus of everyone to the outdoors. The switch had been flipped and it gave us the sunshine and warmth we were all craving. I spent yesterday working in the yard and flower beds, removing the covering of marsh grass we had laid down last fall. And much to my surprise I found tulips; here they stood as a testament to surviving our cold and long winter, reaching up about two inches through the recently thawed topsoil. The emerging stalks were multi-colored with shades of green, brown, and even a deep purple. How simple and yet how resilient, and so representative of spring.