After a couple of pop up concerts in Bemidji, including one in front of Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox as well as all the sides of a four-way stop. We took the scenic route to Morris.
Morris is definitely on the prairie. It's a dramatically different landscape than the northwoods, or the Lake Superior shore. We made ourselves comfortable in Morris. Laundry, dining, walking around were the orders of the day.
Our concert hosted by Prairie Renaissance Culture Alliance took place at an events hall called Old No. 1. We were thrilled by the turnout but even more the warm welcome. It was a lovely audience, and we found some new places in the material we've been playing together.
The next morning, we took a little detour to Hancock to drop in on some of our new friends, Dan and Ferolyn. Over the course of twenty years, Dan has transformed a little house on a double lot into something of a miraculous oasis. He's handbuilt several small buildings and pathways and lots of sculpture from various castoffs and auction finds into a place of elemental beauty and hushed reverence. It's a secret garden, sort of. I found his work to be deeply affecting on a level beyond language. It really was overwhelming, especially my profound sense of gratitude for this careful painstaking nearly anonymous labor. I would like to write more, but I am still having trouble finding the words.