Deep blue Minnesota skies mark today's walk through the Hiawatha Avenue's grain elevator district. The crunching sound my boots make in the snow is a telltale sign of the artic temps that have gripped Minneapolis lately. But my spirits are warmed this morning by the sun and the prospect of an urban hike.
Grain elevators make my day. I enjoy the visual rhythm of their rounded forms jutting into the sky. Silos pregnant with harvest form a ridgeline of old economy stretching from downtown along the Mississippi to nearly the airport.
Suddenly and silently, four military jets flying in formation far overhead appear from the southeast. Their presence reminds us of the world beyond our own, as vapor trails scribe precise paths across the winter sky.