I finally got around to seeing “Crossing the Line: The Passport Re-Imagined” at Open Book, just three blocks from our home. Here, the artist has produced passports for migratory birds; the painted eggs represent individual birds, while the cloth satchel serves as a “nest” to hold the eggs and passports. On my own travels, I’ve often been in awe of migratory birds, especially at Farewell Spit on New Zealand’s South Island, where we observed bar-tailed godwits that migrate 7,500 miles to Alaska.
Category: Living
Signs of the season
Cycling through the U, I paused for these magnolia blooms. Behind me, a pair of wild turkeys gobbled in precise unison, inching closer to each other with every call. A raptor flew overhead with a twig in its talons, and over at the local eagles’ nest, the mother was shifting her weight, settling in for yet another season.
Destination Battle Creek Park
With a bit of help from light rail and a friend and his truck, we cycled trails east of St. Paul, including a nicely refurbished section leading to Battle Creek Park. We both almost stalled out at a couple of points as we tracked this stream uphill.
Linguistic roots
I had to go to the tool chest for a rubber mallet to help me chop this rutabaga without losing any fingers. If I were doing this in the UK, I would call the veggie a swede or a turnip. Here in the US, however, the term “turnip” is reserved for the smaller white variety. Right now, the rutabaga and four other types of root veggies are assimilating themselves into a lamb stew.
Tracking the migratory patterns of our gear
Set up trackers for our upcoming trip: D and T for our backpacks; 1 to track a cardboard box we’ll check in at MSP then mail from Glasgow. The rectangular tracker goes in my wallet. (The total weight for the four devices is 1.5 ounces, 43 grams.)
Beyond the canon
We had an unusual perch for the nearly sold-out Minnesota Orchestra concert. There wasn’t much dust on the pieces we heard: two 20th-century American composers unfamiliar to me (Antheil and Adams) and Tchaikovsky’s final symphony, written on the cusp of the 20th century. In the foreground there’s a robotic camera; the performance was broadcast live on Minnesota public television and radio.
Decolonizing the menu
Shared notes about our day over a dinner of indigenous ingredients at the bar at Owamni. While reservations for this James Beard Award-winning restaurant can be hard to snag, we’ve found that unreserved bar seats are usually available if we arrive early. Signs reminded us where we were, featuring tags like #landback, #86colonialism (86 is a nod to the restaurant lingo for removing an item from the menu), and the acknowledgment that we were dining on native land.
The trail won
A cycle ride with a friend included trail sections that have just reopened after light rail construction. At this choke point, there was room for the light rail or the trail, but not both. The trail won, while the light rail runs in a half-mile tunnel through unstable ground under the trail. This is possibly the most expensive compromise in Minnesota infrastructure history.
Closed on Mondays
On Mondays, I sometimes get the urge to look at art. At the start of my walk today, I popped into Open Book for “Crossing the Line: The Passport Re-Imagined.” Bad idea: like many galleries, it’s closed on Mondays. Since the cafe was open, an Americano and a donut replaced examining “themes of immigration, power, limitation, and belonging.”
One pint of protection
One-pint Ziploc freezer bags are essential travel gear. They protect our passports and phones, and will allow us to use our devices safely in the inevitable Scottish rain. They’ve been difficult to find since the pandemic, but yesterday I managed to order a bunch at a good price from Amazon. After our Sunday morning walk, we found them waiting for us in the package room.