The wedding party

The grandkids and their parents all were members of a wedding party a couple of weeks ago. Since Abby and Eric were going up the aisle before the children, I went along as a "kid wrangler."

They did their jobs beautifully, as I suspect they would have even if I weren't there to whisper "go." Their slightly older cousins did well, too. Only the two-year-old, who had her own wrangler, veered off course, giving everyone a chuckle. Vi had practiced her wedding walk both here and at home, tossing pretend rose petals as she went. I got a look at the aisle...there was one large red petal every two feet, dropped with precision for the bride's approach. 

The kids let off a little steam before the ceremony (probably to the annoyance of somebody or other) but they were angels during the ceremony and dinner, and then they danced up a storm. And while other youngsters I've known couldn't wait to get out of their tuxes, or kick off their shoes, these kids stayed "in character" for their wedding roles.
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Vi reveled in looking pretty, complete with tiny tiara and sparkly red shoes. She and her cousin Tessa gave their parents a glimpse of the beautiful young women they'll be in another handful of years, when the boys begin to call. Their parents looked nervous.

Meanwhile, Augie was standing tall in his tuxedo. Even with animal cracker crumbs in his lap, I got the impression he knew this suit was somehow important, and he was living up to it. When the dancing started and the groom's men took off their ties, jackets, and vests to cool off, Augie stayed properly dressed.

Because I was busy shepherding the children, I was out of position to get photos of them processing in, Vi with her basket and Augie with a ring pillow (sans ring). And the family photos I got will remain offline until Abby and Eric use one as a Christmas card.

So there's not much more to say here except that on this day, when the kids dressed up like lovely little grownups, I think I got a glimpse of who they will be. And, in fact, who they already are. And I enjoyed it, but I'm in no hurry for them to grow up.

The last warm day...?

Our back-yard buckeye

Today is sunny and calm and about 70 degrees Fahrenheit. It may be the last warm day until next spring.

Butterfly weed seeds float on gossamer wings

Thing is, at this point we Minnesotans say that about every warm and sunny day. "Beautiful day!" comes the greeting. "Yup, probably the last one for this year," comes the reply. Just in case that's true, I'm posting a few more photos of this year's fall color, all taken about October 1 right here in our yard.

Looking down our street

We were told that because of the very dry conditions and a counterproductive temperature cycle, the colors this year were likely to be very subdued. And indeed, some trees simply turned brown and dropped everything at the first breeze.

Northwoods Maple in our front yard

But there was color to be found, and the urban forest where we live did quite well indeed. The color in these photos is mostly gone now, but the late-turning trees still beckon, along with shrubs, grasses, and the occasional planter of fall flowers. I am enjoying it all, as long as it lasts.

It's a treat to beat your feet on the Mississippi mud...

Last Tuesday was a lovely day for an outing, and ViMae likes to collect pretty rocks, so we went to Hidden Falls Park, in the heart of St. Paul and Minneapolis, with a picnic lunch and Vi's pink plastic bucket.

We started out like this - jackets and shoes on, staying dry.

We soon switched to this, which was much more fun.

Her bucket filled, we had one exuberant child running up and down along the water's edge and laughing. There were a dozen or so other park visitors, and a few paused to watch.

The Mississippi doesn't really become muddy until somewhere downstream from Minnesota, but we don't know a song about the "sandy and rocky" Mississippi, so Peter serenaded us with the oldie he knew.  It was a glorious day.

Rocks, trees, and water

With a late September wedding anniversary, Peter and I often celebrate by driving to the nearby countryside to soak in the glorious leaf color. This year the setting itself was far more dramatic than the color.

Last Friday, on a lovely warm afternoon, we drove along the St. Croix River to Taylors Falls, Minnesota, home of Interstate State Park. The river forms part of the boundary between Minnesota and Wisconsin, and the park extends into both states.

Basalt cliffs at Taylors Falls are just the beginning; the entire area underwent drastic upheaval in the glacial age. Says the park's website: "At least 10 different lava flows are exposed in the park, along with two distinct glacial deposits, and traces of old streams valleys and faults." This isn't a park for strolling; it requires climbing and sometimes picking your way over massively uneven rocks.

A notable feature of the area is a series of glacial potholes, some of them remarkably narrow and deep. This pothole illustrates another common feature of the park: trees, ferns, and vines growing out of seemingly tiny fissures in the rock. Peter's comment: "Where there's a will, there's a way."

Some potholes have been excavated; others that appear shallow are simply filled in with sand and rock. Scientists hope to excavate one more, the largest in the park. Daily tours explain the potholes, and there is information on the park's website.

We may go back another year to take a river cruise to enjoy this scenery from another perspective. Glad we didn't try that this year; Sunday's paper noted that the river is so shallow because of drought that the usual 2-hour cruise has been cut to just 45 minutes.