The first thing I noticed about Minnesota in the summer is that it was green, very green.  The rich tones spreading effortlessly from the fields into the manicured lawns into the tree line and reaching into the sky where the dramatic contrast to blue took over.  If that was not magical enough the residents at my parent's retirement community or an undiscovered community of tree creatures enjoyed getting the attention and imagination of my children for a few days.

My Dad and Stepmother live part-time in a community of 299 mobile homes, but that is only a technical distinction.  In reality they are permanent for the most part and many have what are called "Minnesota Rooms", which are living room sized additions making a small footprint much larger.  (I will have more to say about the community in another entry later this week, it has a charm which requires its own post).

The residents are retired for the most part, and everyone seems to know everyone else.  It is nestled around a well-wooded 9-hole golf course and the whirl or electric golf carts and tinny efforts of small gas motors are everywhere.  Literally everyone says hello to you when you pass, and some are ready for longer conversations about who you were, where you were from, the weather outside, who the Twins were starting tonight, and anything else you can imagine.  It was refreshing because no conversation was likely to carry too much weight, people here seem to really embrace these moments of repose.

There is also a special attention paid to children.  There is no doubt that grand children over the years have been looking for stuff to do, removed from the constant draw of Facebook, television and video games the relaxed weekends by the river must come as quite the shock to the young initially.  My Stepmother found bikes for my kids, they found friends and they were off to explore the narrow roads between the stretches of slender vacation homes.

There are at least two very cute offerings.  One being the "Elf Door".  With gentle direction from Grandma (meaning she drove them first on a golf cart) the kids found their way to the "Elf Door".  This is just a small red door and hinge screwed into the base of a tree.

After some time pondering this, and told that the thing to do was craft messages to the elf to be placed inside the tree, my kids raced back to the cabin and set off to write something, anything.  I think they were less worried what they said and more excited by the possibility that a mythical creature might read it.

Clad in his Adrian Peterson jersey (I only saw my son wear two shirts the entire time we were at the cabin, his Favre jersey and this one), we went back to the tree...

...and we placed the notes inside.

This is however the lesser of the two legends of the retirement community.  The more interesting story has to do with the "Fairy trees" at the other end of the vacation cluster.

For one, they are located in a darker canopy of trees certainly leading to a more mysterious air.  And rather than short notes to an unknown elf, there are long and artistic pleas to a fairy named "Mary Margret" to return here.  Kids who have visited the park over the years have placed notes on these trees, mostly placed in plastic bags to survive the elements.  As the story goes the fairy used to answer the notes years ago, but then suddenly disappeared.  Now sightings of her are in dispute but the hopes and dreams of kids still get pinned to the trees.

Here someone took some liberties with the story and invented "Twitter - The animal fairy", I am guessing somehow technology and dreams got mushed together here.  In fact the note pinned on the tree includes "BFF", to which I am sure no matter what "Mary Margret" is or was the truncation probably escapes her.  Regardless, this was one of the cutest efforts I have seen in years.

My daughter is checking out a small telephone box on one of the trees.

Where elves and fairies apparently order their pizza.

but most of the work consisted of signs like this and smaller postcards with the single word "LOST" written on them.

 

Captured by all of this my kids made more artwork, and I drove the gold cart over with a screw gun to make sure notes became part of the fabric of the story.

I figure Mary Margret was a resident here, and answered the letters before passing.  I imagine the joy she must have gotten out of this too.  The magical thing about all of this is the connection between people, even those who don't know each other or are not here anymore.  This was unexpected and wonderful and something I will always be happy to have seen my children embrace.