A Lazy Sunday Afternoon
Back in May, Clare Kolars was “yearning for the sea,” so she traveled from River Falls to Duluth with a friend to spend time by the closest thing — Lake Superior.
Back in May, Clare Kolars was “yearning for the sea,” so she traveled from River Falls to Duluth with a friend to spend time by the closest thing — Lake Superior.
In this drone video Dennis O’Hara captures the annual tradition of the July 4 boat parade on Caribou Lake near Duluth, where decorated boats of all kinds line up and cruise around the lake.
These photos were taken in Downtown Duluth during the city’s Independence Day Parade of 1917 — two months after the United States entered World War I.
WDSE-TV‘s recent documentary about hockey culture in northern Minnesota — from the mini-mites learning to skate for the first time, to accomplished high school and college players striving to take their game to the highest level — is now available to view online … right here.
I’ve had six recurring dreams, all at least 15-20 times apiece:
1
Started when I was about 13 and stopped before I left for college. I’m kneeling on the couch, with my elbows resting along the top of its back, looking out the picture window of Mom and Dad’s split-level house at 1427 48th Street NW in Rochester, MN. I can see the street, the small front yard, the driveway, and the sidewalk that parallels the front of the house and leads to the front door. It’s dark. Probably a Friday evening, because the scene involves groceries and that’s when Mom often brought them home. I watch her pull into the driveway, get out of the dark-blue 1983 Pontiac Phoenix LJ, wave and smile at me, open the hatchback, tuck a brown paper bag of groceries under her right arm, and leave the car open so my brother and I can unload the rest. She’s wearing a khaki trench coat and carrying a purse. This is when she often worked 60 or 70 hours a week in IBM administrative support. She’s about 33 years old. The sidewalk is just under the window, so as she walks toward the door and beams a smile up at me – Mom’s got quite a smile – the angle of her gaze should mean she sees the hunched humanoid-gargoyle-type creature leaning over the eave above the window. But she doesn’t. Maybe she can’t. Won’t? The sidewalk isn’t long – 15 of her short steps? – but it feels like she’s taking forever to reach the door. Even as I’m screaming, “Mom! Look! Mom! Mom!” and flailing toward the creature, which is leering and obviously preparing to hop from the roof onto her, she just keeps smiling at me and strolling. The creature looks something like a tall Green Goblin balled into a languid crouch. Its intention is to kill her. I wake up as it springs.
