These are mentions of the word “autumnal” over time. This post’s title is just about 150 years late.
I’m sitting in the James J Hill Reference Library in downtown St Paul right now, which is a pretty cool place. Shelves of colorful books stretching up and up and up, and tall pillars, and wooden tables with ornate lamps on them. They are playing classical music and the lighting is dim but not too dim. I love sitting in peaceful, vertically-oriented, beautiful spaces.
So various things have been happening to me over the past few months, many of which have been neglected their fair due in this blog. For example, my funny and outgoing grandparents visited me: during the weekend we toured the Zoo, drank beers at a Polish festival, walked quietly around the St Paul cathedral, ate a lot of good food, strolled around Minnehaha Falls in the sun, and ogled at the Mall of America. I also went on a multi-day trip to the Boundary Waters with another group of fun girls, which included a more strenuous day of paddling than I honestly thought possible, a hilarious exercise in bear-bag hanging, and some chilly sunset skinny-dipping. There have been painting nights and library galas and stressful work times and excellent concerts and bike rides with Niko and there was my birthday in there too, in which my brother came to town and I had one of the best weekends ever. EVER.
At the end of last month, I attended the wedding of Melissa and Pete, two dear friends and coworkers from Isle Royale. It was beautiful and relaxed and overlaid with the soundtrack of a crashing Lake Superior. Carrying on the Isle-Royale theme, my friends Alina, Andrew, and Kate and I also traveled to the place itself, and hiked the entire length in two full days and two half days. It was a cold and wet and exhausting and beautiful and melancholy and exciting homecoming.
Ugh, this blog gets annoying when it’s just long strings of paragraphs of me listing things I’ve done. That’s not the point. No one cares. This isn’t supposed to be my journal or something. It’s so that I can tell stories and write paragraphs that are actually interesting and relevant. So while I certainly find my own life pretty relevant and interesting, that’s because it’s my own life, and I can carry on vainly and happily thinking to myself in my own head how great it is. Meanwhile, I’m going to shake off this haze, and return to you with a post that has a broader relevance than simply to Liz Dengate, St Paul resident.
Have a lovely afternoon for now, everyone!