Mike Scholtz’s photos of the sand- and gravel-hopper ruins known as “Uncle Harvey’s Mausoleum” suggest the round column near the shore collapsed at some point in recent days. The photo at left is from 2013. The photo at right is from today.
Duluth’s first ore dock was built in 1893, just east of 34th Avenue West. The Duluth, Missabe and Northern Railway built several docks there for loading iron ore from the Iron Range for shipment to steel plants in the East. The first five docks were built of wood, which was gradually replaced by steel and concrete.
Some very sweet images this week, and I’m genuinely glad to see so many of you contented, but there must be angst, some “sturm und drang,” yes? The theme isn’t all rainbows and unicorns- this love business, as a salient hair band once averred, it “scars, it wounds and mars.” How we suture the injuries we sustain and those we inflict defines us more than any cleaving to cloying ideals.
Maybe I slant toward the unorthodox, but I know that images exist of regrettable tattoos, cow-tipping episodes, and numerous other lapses in sense. Not that I’m remotely disappointed with this week’s submissions; stunts, escapades, etc. were very well-represented (ask Richard sometime for the story behind those axes and puckish grins).
Ok, this actually isn’t in Duluth, but I saw these today. And it’s pretty close to Duluth.
Seeing these was surprisingly moving for me and gave me an opportunity to consider all of my relationships and re-evaluate my life direction. And, I mean that in a good way. Actually, what I mean is that compliments are so free, and pleasant, and often inspiring, and life-affirming and I don’t give them out enough. This was a great reminder and I hope the idea spreads.
I didn’t notice this until I uploaded the pictures, but the bulletin board message credits kindovermatter.com so these may be appearing elsewhere as well. Perhaps we’re on the edge of a movement.
Interpretations of our theme ran the gamut this week from loose to literal, from graphical to perfectly-banal. However, Hugh Reitan’s hyperkinetic take was irresistible as a feature photo (regardless whether caffeine, or pure glee was the stimulant responsible). Based on some tales swapped at Tycoon’s, next week’s theme will be “capers” (no, not the pickled flowers- stunts, escapades, pranks).
Not an oenophile or single-malter in the house, eh? Not to worry, lots of other great takes on “vintage” this week. I even took some liberties to pair my Grandma Mohrbacher, on what looks like the Duluth pier (anyone?), with myself and my Grandpa’s Electrolux- a company he sold door-to-door for while living here in the ’20s. Fun facts.
Mother Superior seems to have held a prominent place in the psyche of many of you who considered our “perilous” theme. It conforms to a theory of mine regarding what makes this area so unique; when you’re daily reminded that life is tenuous, highs and lows are more pronounced, and halcyon days are more precious.
This week’s theme is simple, merely a matter of where you feel secure; whether that’s among your family, with a loved one, even out in nature, or at a favorite watering hole. Next week let’s see images of the people, places, and things that make you insecure, test your mettle, and remove you from your comfort zone. We’ll call the theme “perilous,” and again, your broadest interpretations are encouraged.
If you’ve followed Perfect Duluth Day closely for more than a year, you might know that my wife and I are the world’s laziest and lousiest birders. We have cheap binoculars and cameras, and basically just try to keep an eye out while we are engaged in an activity like cross-country skiing. Last year, during an owl irruption in the Duluth area, we saw zero owls. The only snowy owls we had seen in our lives, before today, were in captivity at the Lake Superior Zoo and the World Bird Sanctuary in Missouri.
We had a few failed missions last year, seeking the elusive snowy at Rice’s Point and the Bong Airport. After hearing reports of sightings near Duluth Business University and Wade Stadium this year, we decided to give it another try. We saw a bald eagle at Grassy Point within minutes, and figured that was a good sign. We knew from reading Sparky Stensaas’ blog post about Superior Snowy Owls that it’s generally easier to find them in a stupid place, like on a football scoreboard (in his case) or a piece of industrial equipment (in our case) than in a beautiful wilderness environment, so we were only moderately surprised to find our gal at Erie Pier in West Duluth, perched on a bulldozer.