One of the oldest traditions at the Minnesota State Fair is experiencing Ye Old Mill, which is celebrating its ninety-third year at the fair in 2006. Minneapolis poet Leslie Ball took a ride, and sent us this.
Ball is spending each day at the Fair watching, listening, and writing.
[WAVES CRASHING] [? SPEAKER 1: ?] "This morning, we ride Ye Olde Mill.
Water tinted unnatural blue
Churned frothy white by a yellow paddle wheel.
Bright, red wooden boats float in and out of the tunnel.
In an instant, where pulled into the pitch.
Fairground noise fades into the background
Replaced by the whisper of
Water Lapping at the boat.
It's so still, I wonder if we're actually moving.
Are we floating in place?
I'm happy to be lost in liquid time.
I want to spend the morning. In this delicious, inky black of solace and silence.
We're seeds in a pod soaking up the dank dark.
A slight breeze in my hair tells me we're moving after all.
Boat scrapes as canal turns.
Glimpses of dioramas punctuate the journey,
Bambi under a ribbon
garlands seven dwarves cavorting in the forest.
Then, too soon, I hear the noise of the outside world encroaching up ahead.
Too soon we grind up the conveyor to disembark.
I'm sorry to step out of this timeless womb.
Back on to solid concrete, clocks, and calendars.
Wouldn't every single one of us benefit from a daily dose of Ye Old Mill?
Floating in gentle peace and quiet,
Sitting side by side
Inside the tunnel of love."
[MUSIC PLAYING]
Digitization made possible by the National Historical Publications & Records Commission.
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