Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Minnehaha
Today has felt for the first time as though I really am at home. Today, the kiddos and I went to TJ's to actually shop for groceries, something that has been somewhat foreign to me for the past few months. Also, while Stephanie was cleaning, the three of us had the chance to go on a walk. As you will see here in the photos, Corrie did a great job of pulling her brother along in the Radio Flyer wagon:
On a different note, there is a reason for the title of my entry today. My day began with a wonderful jog to Minnehaha Falls, which is a mile to a mile and a half from our house. It took me 15 minutes or so to jog there, and I ran along the creek, with the gentle sound of the rushing water next to me, and the overgrown trees just above my head.
There are those rare moments in life when literature does indeed come alive. For me, I felt that way when I first went to London about Dickens. The world of CS Lewis became real to me as I visited Oxford. Going to Israel made the Bible come to life. And now, though I have never been a Longfellow buff, the words of the Song of Hiawatha become more and more meaningful, as the wondrous places, sights and sounds in this poetry are now my backyard. Here are his words, and a photo of this lovely piece of nature tucked into the city of Minneapolis:
Only once his pace he slackened,
Only once he paused or halted,
Paused to purchase heads of arrows
Of the ancient Arrow-maker,
In the land of the Dacotahs,
Where the Falls of Minnehaha
Flash and gleam among the oak-trees,
Laugh and leap into the valley.
There the ancient Arrow-maker
Made his arrow-heads of sandstone,
Arrow-heads of chalcedony,
Arrow-heads of flint and jasper,
Smoothed and sharpened at the edges,
Hard and polished, keen and costly.
With him dwelt his dark-eyed daughter,
Wayward as the Minnehaha,
With her moods of shade and sunshine,
Eyes that smiled and frowned alternate,
Feet as rapid as the river,
Tresses flowing like the water,
And as musical a laughter:
And he named her from the river,
From the water-fall he named her,
Minnehaha, Laughing Water.
Was it then for heads of arrows,
Arrow-heads of chalcedony,
Arrow-heads of flint and jasper,
That my Hiawatha halted
In the land of the Dacotahs?
Was it not to see the maiden,
See the face of Laughing Water
Peeping from behind the curtain,
Hear the rustling of her garments
From behind the waving curtain,
As one sees the Minnehaha
Gleaming, glancing through the branches,
As one hears the Laughing Water
From behind its screen of branches?
Our day closed with a trip to this sight as well, as my daughter has become terribly enchanted with a beautiful statue of Hiawatha and Minnehaha. This statue is placed at the top of the waterfall, just before the creek (which wanders through south Minneapolis) cascades down on its final trip to the Mississippi river. We love this sight already, and I have a hunch that these trips are only the first of many, as we are drawn to these beautiful outdoor sights in this ever so quiet city.
On a different note, there is a reason for the title of my entry today. My day began with a wonderful jog to Minnehaha Falls, which is a mile to a mile and a half from our house. It took me 15 minutes or so to jog there, and I ran along the creek, with the gentle sound of the rushing water next to me, and the overgrown trees just above my head.
There are those rare moments in life when literature does indeed come alive. For me, I felt that way when I first went to London about Dickens. The world of CS Lewis became real to me as I visited Oxford. Going to Israel made the Bible come to life. And now, though I have never been a Longfellow buff, the words of the Song of Hiawatha become more and more meaningful, as the wondrous places, sights and sounds in this poetry are now my backyard. Here are his words, and a photo of this lovely piece of nature tucked into the city of Minneapolis:
Only once his pace he slackened,
Only once he paused or halted,
Paused to purchase heads of arrows
Of the ancient Arrow-maker,
In the land of the Dacotahs,
Where the Falls of Minnehaha
Flash and gleam among the oak-trees,
Laugh and leap into the valley.
There the ancient Arrow-maker
Made his arrow-heads of sandstone,
Arrow-heads of chalcedony,
Arrow-heads of flint and jasper,
Smoothed and sharpened at the edges,
Hard and polished, keen and costly.
With him dwelt his dark-eyed daughter,
Wayward as the Minnehaha,
With her moods of shade and sunshine,
Eyes that smiled and frowned alternate,
Feet as rapid as the river,
Tresses flowing like the water,
And as musical a laughter:
And he named her from the river,
From the water-fall he named her,
Minnehaha, Laughing Water.
Was it then for heads of arrows,
Arrow-heads of chalcedony,
Arrow-heads of flint and jasper,
That my Hiawatha halted
In the land of the Dacotahs?
Was it not to see the maiden,
See the face of Laughing Water
Peeping from behind the curtain,
Hear the rustling of her garments
From behind the waving curtain,
As one sees the Minnehaha
Gleaming, glancing through the branches,
As one hears the Laughing Water
From behind its screen of branches?
Our day closed with a trip to this sight as well, as my daughter has become terribly enchanted with a beautiful statue of Hiawatha and Minnehaha. This statue is placed at the top of the waterfall, just before the creek (which wanders through south Minneapolis) cascades down on its final trip to the Mississippi river. We love this sight already, and I have a hunch that these trips are only the first of many, as we are drawn to these beautiful outdoor sights in this ever so quiet city.
# posted by Unknown @ 8:50 PM 
