Morris has probably expanded to the west as far as it can. The ground gets wet out there, and aesthetically there aren't a lot of redeeming qualities. West Wind Village - it still seems more natural and easier to call it the Villa - seems to represent the western edge of the community.
In the late 1970s I jogged to Alberta on the old Alberta road a few times, and found the surroundings to be rough-hewn. I joked with a friend once that I found it "spooky."
The eastern edge of Morris and beyond give quite a different impression. The Pomme de Terre River and Lake Crissy make for an aesthetic bonanza. No wonder so many of the newer opulent homes have sprouted out that way on both sides of the bypass.
I can't imagine why anyone would want to build a new home on the old school property, when there are so many inviting locations out there.
The addition on the east side of the bypass, next to the mill dam road, seems almost to be a community in itself. I marvel at the RV garage that one can see when walking by, using the bike trail. One feels Lilliputian when observing it.
The two huge Skyview buildings (assisted living) couldn't have been imagined when I was in high school and the bypass didn't even exist. The land on the west side of the river was pretty wild back then.
Today the wild atmosphere has survived even though the area has become much more accessible. Many superb homes have sprouted out there along with the bike/walking trail.
The trail has become a very attractive asset of Morris. It affords optimal relaxation and a feeling of escape for people who might be dragged down by the rat race (or the stock market).
For me it provides therapy for my PTSD, helping wipe aside memories of storming a hill in Viet Nam and wiping out a Viet Cong pillbox using hand grenades. Oh, wait a minute, I never served in Viet Nam. I misspoke. I'm sorry.
About the worst thing that can happen to you out there is getting dive-bombed by a red-wing blackbird whose nest is probably close by. But it's certainly not "spooky," not even during dusk. Could our friend "the bear" be out there? You know, the black bear that caused such a ruckus in town when it climbed a tree?
I haven't heard anyone ask what the bear might be thinking of all of us.
Whatever, I don't think we need to worry about being accosted by that bear or any other bear down by the river. I think our city's leaders made sure that bear wasn't going to stick around to scare or hurt anybody.
I still think the bear was shot and that the anointed ones who govern the direction of the community chose to tell a fairy tale. The local corporate media acquiesced.
When you understand small community politics, you know that whenever this kind of scenario occurs, it's expected that you stay quiet and just "move on." It's part of the survival instinct of small communities. Anyone who dissents can get pilloried from any direction, from those saying "you're wrong" to those saying "just shut up" to those saying "it's just no big deal (so forget about it)."
Friend Glen Helberg has joked about putting on a bear suit and having some fun around town. I'd be careful about that, Glen.
One of the reasons Morris seemed torn asunder in about 1988 was an issue that a network of community leaders felt it had resolved, only to find there was a splinter group of leader-types - you know, respectable and obviously non-eccentric people - who opted to dissent and keep pushing.
The book "Raising Roger's Cross" about a 1950s murder in Foley did an excellent job describing small community politics which at the time of the murder had more onerous qualities than one finds today. The typical greater Minnesota small town of that previous era had a circle of well-to-do leaders - everyone knew who they were - who guided the direction of the town and established standards. The book author noted that the poor people of the community were so out of the loop, they weren't really aware of this.
But middle class people resented it. It was a shadowy type of governance class, although there was nothing criminal or even really immoral about it. It just seemed rather deceptive in the eyes of some. And there was the obvious human jealousy that comes from being less well off financially than others.
The fabric is different today as more and more business activity is governed by non-local corporate interests with long tentacles. Doing your business today is less likely to involve a visit to an office in "the business district" than to go online or talk on the phone to someone in Indianapolis, Indiana (as I did recently in connection to an insurance matter).
There are advantages and disadvantages to both models that I've just described. The older, quaint model seemed benevolent and benign but it oozed an authoritarian air too. The new model oozes fairness, as you realize when perusing a typical "employee manual" of the large, non-local companies. But on the down side, these companies are ruled by the gospel of maximum profit and they will apply their cutting scythe to lift the bottom line.
The bean-counting moves can be a great detriment to a small community.
The grassroots entrepreneurial spirit seems to be fading in America. Mostly we're becoming mid-level corporate suck ups.
All these thoughts might filter through my mind when taking a stroll along the bike trail. It's a meditative time. Always keep an eye out for those red-wing blackbirds. But the black bear? You can imagine that in the same way I imagine my Viet Nam experience. Just close your eyes.
But the deer out in that area are most real. They'll stop and be rigid as a statue for a few moments when they see you. Then, with great suddenness, they'll glide away through the tall grass.
Thanks to Myron Syverson for working hard to find out how far a complete "lap" on the bike trail is (the circle that includes both sides of the Pomme de Terre River). Myron determined that it's four and a half miles.
Gazebos and benches are most inviting. Although as a quibble, I could point out that the standard gazebo, unlike ours here, has steps that lead up to an aloft platform. A state of the art gazebo also includes a bench that is far more comfortable than what our gazebos (one at the library too) provide.
At least some of these gazebos were built by prisoners at the now-dormant (defunct?) Appleton prison. I'm sure saws were required in the construction of these wooden structues. I have to laugh at the old cliche of prison inmates receiving a cake with a saw inside (so to saw through prison bars). I wonder if that sign along the road is still there in Appleton advising "do not pick up hitchhikers." Reminds me of the George Clooney movie "O Brother Where Art Thou."
The bike trail has a spur that goes into town and another spur that goes right down to the riverbank. You might see a raccoon crossing the latter spur sometimes. I've never seen a coyote or fox there. I saw a bald eagle, unmistakable with its white head, perched toward the top of a tall tree across from the Pomme de Terre dam a year or so ago.
Kingfishers can often be seen close to the water. I'm fascinated how the blue kingfisher will get a fish and then kill it by whacking it on the side of a tree.
There's a paved path going uphill from the bike trail to the WCROC "overlook." That little uphill spur seems way too steep to actually pedal up. So the idea is to walk your bike up there or to just park your bike at the base and walk up. There is no paved trail, yet, going east through the Horticulture Garden and beyond.
The overlook doesn't particularly thrill me. It's not high enough to really present a breathtaking view of the area. A better view is probably available at a "lover's lane" type of spot immediately to the north of Pomme de Terre Park at the top of the hill.
As for the WCROC Horticulture Garden, I think it might have been sufficient to just have some benches available at the west end. The interpretive plaques are fine. But that "roof," like what might be found over gas station pumps, well, I think it's purely decorative and probably superfluous.
The Horticulture Garden has become a widely known asset of Morris. The heralded wind turbine is close by. Wildlife in all its glory is readily seen as you bike or walk through the area..
But the west end of Morris and beyond? Sadly it seems desolate, not that the farmland can't be productive.
Maybe the old Alberta road seemed "spooky" because of some menacing dogs, perhaps acquired for guarding purposes. I'm not sure whether to fear the dogs or a black bear more.
Or ghosts.
-Brian Williams - morris mn Minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com
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