The magic of Boom Island

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There’s this field of grass in Boom Island Park, right where the neighborhood of St. Anthony meets the Mississippi River in Minneapolis. It stretches along a gentle slope — rolling westward down to the cement walkway on the riverbank — so that in the evening, the whole field turns into bleacher-style seating for a view of the sun setting behind the downtown skyline. On this grass, people fly kites, throw Frisbees, spread picnic blankets and play with dogs. When you pass someone on the sidewalk, they smile at you. You can visit it any time.

There are a lot of special places in the Twin Cities, but for me there is something supernaturally different about Boom Island. It’s a place apart from time, where I can see my home with vivid clarity — not only physically in the view of the skyline, but mirrored in other people and in the energy of the place itself.

The first time I visited Boom Island was the day I got my first car. I was so amazed by the perfection of that grassy hill and my newfound freedom to visit it that I went home and wrote about it in my journal. Exactly one year later I visited again, driven by whimsy and a sort of short-term nostalgia. I was surprised to find that I could clearly see the ghost of my past self slinking around by the riverbank, skipping stones.

Boom Island is a place made up of reflections and echoes. Time melts here, so that when you hear someone cough down by the water but can’t see who, it’s just as likely to have come from a man sorting logs for the sawmills in the 1890s as from a University of Minnesota student smoking weed.

Minneapolis — from side to side and from start to finish — can be found in Boom Island. It is where I go when I forget how much I love my neighbors and love this land that my ancestors scarred.

Maybe it is my overactive imagination that sees ghosts and hears voices, but with or without it, I believe that it’s more important now than ever to know of your own place where you can see your whole city for what it is. A place where you can feel love for and from your community and think of the past and the future.

Boom Island is my favorite place to watch the sunset, but sometimes I find that I’d rather sit at the bottom of the slope, turn away from the river, and look up at the people … at the elderly couple who have loved each other for 50 years resting their heads on each other’s shoulders, the woman in the pink beanie with her little white dog enjoying quiet and solitude, the two college students on a date, holding hands for the first time, the three generations of an immigrant family packing up their picnic …

Behind me, the sun is gone, the skyscraper lights turn on, and on the still surface of the river, a reflection of the city appears. I don’t turn around. I’ve been looking at it all along.

William Nelson lives in Minneapolis.