Horton Park

Horton Park

The graph of temperatures here from late last week through Tuesday morning would look remarkably like the first part of a rollercoaster. Last week was unseasonably warm, with high temperatures in the forties and even fifties. At 6:30 Monday morning it was already 50 degrees, and I eschewed even a fleece pullover for my bike ride into work. We crested the initial rise of the rollercoaster Monday afternoon, with a high approaching 60. Then we hurtled down the steep drop on the other side. By 6:30 Tuesday morning, the temperature was 16 degrees.

Unsurprisingly, the cold front brought a wave of precipitation that started as rain and changed to snow. The resulting icy, crusty conglomeration made for treacherous footing. Sculpted by the wind, it also made interesting stucco-like textures on the sidewalks. For much of our morning walk, I kept my eyes on the ground. But crossing Horton Park, I looked up and paused to watch a cloud blow across the nearly-full bright moon.
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Hamline Ave.

Horton Park

Englewood Avenue

Labor Day, the unofficial "end of summer" was a perfect, sun-drenched afternoon. So the girls and I grabbed a box of sidewalk chalk and headed over to the park.

Horton Park

Horton Park

Blustery wind sends last year's leaves tumbling down the street, bouncing, whirling, dancing, giddy like children released from the last day of school.

Minnehaha Ave.

A crystalline morning scrubbed clean by cold, like pioneers used to scrub pots with snow.
Icy wind carves awareness of every contour of my face.
Stars sparkle overhead, but the heat of their distant fires does not reach the treetops.  
Dawn rejoices, spreading a pristine cerulean glow across the sky.

Horton Park

Wind curling around the corner of the hi-rise creates a phantom waterfall as it rushes through a stand of firs. A crashing roar flows through the branches, and foamy mist swirls across the ground.

Hamline Hi-Rise