Cycled up one side of the Mississippi and down the other. Here below the Lowry Avenue Bridge, two people are fishing, with downtown Minneapolis straight ahead at a bend in the river.
Category: Minneapolis
A shout-out for downtown living
It’s raining on-and-off all day, so I’m staying close to home. My morning consisted of three loads of laundry intertwined with an exercycle downstairs in the workout room, Open Book for an Americano and a donut, and Trader Joe’s for dinner provisions: just a few reasons we love living in ZIP 55415, the fastest-growing urban core in the country. (The infographic is AI-generated. Maxwell’s in an 1894 building, is our usual Thursday night dinner destination.)
Party like it’s 2026
Pushed my bike past preparations for a Prince singalong celebration later today; he would’ve been 68 this weekend. First Avenue is right nearby, the venue where he often performed and which he made famous in Purple Rain.
Building a pot of joy
Coastal Seafoods is probably the best seafood store in the Twin Cities, and it was conveniently on my walk home from my gig at the library this morning. Tonight’s menu: seafood stew with cod, halibut, peppers, onion, garlic, potatoes, tomatoes, saffron, coconut milk, squeezes of lime, and anything else I can think of to round it out.
Blasting the past
Almost sculptural, giant plastic shrouds enclose the power transmission towers across the river from where we live. Decades of rust are being blasted off, followed by fresh coats of paint. On the bottom left sits the inlet for the 1908 hydroelectric plant, still taking advantage of the natural drop of St. Anthony Falls.
A little under the freeway
Our colds persist. Going a little stir-crazy, I went for a walk, starting with this tunnel under the interstate near our home, dense with metaphors. Later, at a new bookshop, a barista with the snuffles brewed me a welcome Americano.
Malala and a melt
After an ELL session on Malala Yousafzai with an adult learner, I went to the nearby Minneapolis American Indian Center for a bison melt. Lawn signs out front promoted candidates in the upcoming tribal elections.
The ultimate frequent flyers
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.
The golden age of trespassing
One of the advantages of being a senior is that the consequences of being arrested are far less severe than they were when I was young. I no longer have an employer to fire me, and I can comfortably afford a lawyer or a fine. Besides, I look harmless. With that in mind, I secured my bicycle and clambered up a railroad embankment. I carefully crossed two live tracks to get a closer look at a dozen vintage coaches, including these from the North Pole Express. And nobody stopped me.
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.