Of Books And Bees

We are just back from a quarterly trip to Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. I always liken it to going to the Emerald City in The Wizard of Oz. The trip to the Emerald City was a pilgrimage for Dorothy and company, and the trip to Rochester is always a pilgrimage for me.

Pilgrimages are hard. They change you in fundamental ways. What Dorothy found in her sojourn in Oz was strengths within herself that she never knew existed. What I find from my pilgrimages to Mayo are new ways to hold my remaining days in my hands and examine what time means.

And I find books.

Rochester is a town of Little Free Libraries. There are several within easy walking distance of the hotel we always stay at (right on the edge of the main Mayo campus, our favorite, the 5th Avenue Inn and Suites, is a little worn but clean and priced just right). I have never mapped out the library locations, but I know that if I set out from the hotel and stroll the closest neighborhoods, I will come across some.

And I did:

(The bottom one is the saddest LFL in the world. It had only a few worn children's books in it, all slid over on their sides.)

Between the Rochester LFLs and the one we inspected while in on a walk in Madison (visiting family for two days before heading to Rochester) and my dear sister-in-law Margaret gifting me a copy of Hillbilly Elegy that she had picked up for free at the UW Madison library, my trip was rich in books:

And in bees.

One of the many things I love about Rochester is its neighborhoods and the ones on my walking route this time were abloom in every imaginable way: front gardens, side gardens, hanging baskets, more window planters than I have seen since my childhood, and terraced retaining walls. Bees were everywhere, including this one in (what else?) the bee balm:

My absolute favorite planting, however, one I hope to recreate in a space in my own, was this:

No bees in it when I was there, but Queen Anne's Lace and milkweed? Absolutely perfect.

When we drive to Rochester, we turn on US52 from I-90 and come into the city from the south. There is a moment, as you take the Rochester exit and turns towards the city, when you can see the core downtown, including the shining towers of Mayo Clinic, off at a distance, floating on the horizon. When Warren turned on that exit this trip, I looked north, saw the city, and said, softly, "Emerald City."

Wizards, quests, bees, and books. If that isn't Oz, I don't know what is.