Potholes close Menomonee River Parkway

Everyone complains about the potholes these days--with good reason! The unusually severe conditions this winter have combined with years of increasing government austerity (thanks to anti-tax political attitudes) to leave many roads in deplorable shape. Driving has become a little like what we saw in the slalom events at the recent Olympics. Only far slower (if you care about your car.)

However, if you've tried to drive on the heavily traveled section of the Menomonee River Parkway between North Avenue and the Village of Wauwatosa in the past week you've noticed that a section is completely closed. If you haven't already heard, the closure is due to the potholes, which extend in several spots clear across the width of the roadway. As you can see in this example.

The closure isn't absolute. I've seen cars slip around the barricades on several occasions. In fact, there are residential driveways that must remain accessible in that stretch. Even so, I was surprised by the appearance of this Arctic Ice truck, which clearly had no business on the parkway even if it had not been closed. Trucking is not allowed on Menomonee River Parkway. The parkway was bad anyway--has been for years--and the plowing is largely to blame for the extent of the damage, I'm sure. But scofflaw truckers can't be a good sign.

To read more about the parkway pothole problem in Wauwatosa NOW, go to "Menomonee Parkway a victim of potholes, crumbling pavement."

Monarch Trail at Milwaukee County Grounds featured on TV

Followers of Urban Wilderness know that the Milwaukee County Grounds in Wauwatosa is among my favorite places. I try to keep abreast of ongoing developments. One of the most significant among many remarkable features of that diverse urban landscape is the Monarch butterfly migration. Historically, migrating Monarchs have roosted there in great numbers. It is one of the few known roosting sites in the region. The planners and developers of Innovation Park, UWM's research accelerator and business campus, have honored the phenomenon by setting aside an 11-acre portion of their development zone as butterfly habitat. And there is a dedicated group of volunteers who maintain the Monarch Trail for the ever increasing throngs of people who have discovered how beautiful it is.

Of course none of this is happening in February, so you may be wondering why I bring it up.

Last August, when it was happening, MPTV sent a camera crew to cover the story and interview some of the principle people involved. These include the indefatigable leader of the Friends of the Monarch Trail, Barb Agnew, and Sue Borkin, a biologist with the Milwaukee Public Museum. The video they created has just been released. You can see it on Adelante!

The video explains the unique character of the Monarch migration, the significance of the County Grounds as a stopover on that migration, and threats to the Monarch population and the continuation of the migration. These threats include the loss of critical species like milkweed (below), which is the Monarch caterpillar's only source of nutrients. The video also shows the Friends of the Monarch Trail leading the effort to involve more people in preservation and enjoyment of the site (above).

Although Adelante! is a Spanish language program, don't be deterred by the introduction, which is in Spanish with English subtitles. The people who are interviewed during the segment all speak in English. The Monarch segment is at the beginning of the program and lasts about ten minutes.

Check it out: Monarch Migration.

Cross-country in the heart of the city

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The idea of skiing in the park hit me like sunshine breaking through an overcast, wintry sky. You see it wasn’t my idea.

Skiing wasn’t on my mind when I walked into the Menomonee Valley Branch of the Urban Ecology Center. In fact I hadn’t thought about skiing in years. My intention had been to revisit Three Bridges Park—on foot, with my camera. The stop at the UEC was to see if there might be kids heading out to the park to sled on its hills. It had snowed earlier in the day and I was hoping to shoot some action.

As I enter, Omar, the UEC’s Visitors Services Assistant, greets me in the reception area. No, he says, the last group for the day had just left. When I tell him I am heading out to the park he asks, “Would you like to take skis?”

I am taken aback. Why have I never done this before? It isn’t as if I hadn’t known about the UEC’s free rental program for members. In warmer seasons I’ve borrowed canoes and often I’ve encouraged people to become members by telling them about this wonderful membership perk.

“Yes!” I exclaim, with equal parts gratitude for the suggestion and surprise at my own enthusiasm. I don’t even hesitate to dwell on out of tune muscles. If no one else is going to be out there why not provide the action I came to see!

We head upstairs to the corridor where a long, colorful row of skis stands in ascending heights. The shortest ones appear far too small for any real people who might go skiing! Then, overruling myself, I muse that even the younger elementary school children would probably be far better at this than I. Ha! Omar confirms this: kids as young as 4 go out with skis, he says.

Omar quickly outfits me with skis and poles. We descend to the lower level for boots. How long has it been since I’ve worn cross-country ski boots? Their sleek and efficient design feels futuristic, probably because I inhabit a future I couldn’t imagine when last I skied. Feeling anachronistic, like George Jetson, I lace them up. As Omar gives me a quick tutorial to refresh my memory of skiing technique I confess that I can’t remember how long it has been. I do recall having to wax the skis!

I pop the boots onto ski bindings that are remarkably easy to use; wonder again why it’s taken me so long to return to the sport I had so loved. Especially considering how much simpler it all is now!

The Valley Passage between the UEC and the park has been shoveled. I walk through to the snow-covered trail leading into the park, pop on the skis again and take off. Well, I move forward at least. I feel awkward and slow. The warm front that dropped an inch or two of fresh snow has also rendered it soft. No one has been out on skis before me and so I am left to carve my own path.

Nevertheless it feels great!

After surviving the better part of 3 months near and often well below 0°, today’s 30° feels positively balmy. Before long before I unzip my coat to avoid sweating. Maintaining a slow pace I fall into a meditative rhythm without too much stumbling. I might walk as fast but the glide of the skis feels easier on my back, which usually ends up aching after a slog through snow on foot.

The snow thins to a trace in the shadow of the 35^th St. viaduct. I step carefully across the short space where black asphalt of the Hank Aaron State Trail shows through. My ski poles ping on the pavement. I glide up the long easy slope of the first moraine-like hill, anticipating the steeper slope I know to be on the far end. Blue plastic cylinders pop up here and there on the hillside, looking incongruous in the fresh blanket of snow. They protect fragile new seedlings that were planted last summer by UEC volunteers. They represent hope; the dream of a future forest.

The sloping sides of the ridge are well tracked by kids and their sleds but the steeper end when I reach it lies pristine and smooth before me. I stare into the white expanse of a suddenly remembered youth. Expecting an exhilarating rush to the bottom, I take a deep breath and push off. The skis sink into deep, mushy snow; I proceed at a steady, sedate pace all the way down. Downhill racer this isn’t.

Counting myself lucky that I didn’t tumble head over heels I continue on my way. I regain the rhythm of poling and gliding. The Menomonee River must flow under its icy roof, but there is only silence where it lies, snowbound. The likewise snow-covered hills rise in sequence like the backs of white whales breaching the surface of this ocean, in this city. The afternoon light slowly dims. I glide on.

Sweden has upset Norway to take gold in Olympic cross-country skiing, I have read. None of the cross-country events have been shown during the primetime broadcasts I’ve been watching, so I haven’t seen them. The network likely believes that viewers demand speed and thrills. The network may be correct. There are no spectacular crashes in cross-country as there are in the downhill, snowboarding, speed skating and even figure skating events. The ever-present threat of a spill raises the ante in already suspenseful events. Still, who could have expected—or wanted—to see Evgeni Plushenko, the Russian figure skating superstar, quit skating entirely after his very public fall on the ice.

I digress. Not being an Olympic—or any other—competitor, for me cross-country skiing is a meditative sport.

I ping across another thin spot under the 27^th St. viaduct. A long, easy slope leads to where the park ends in an overlook. There I pause to take in the familiar panoramic view of the Valley with the Milwaukee skyline beyond. 

Turning back, I attempt to schuss down the slightly steeper side of the incline I’d just come up. No graceful glide this time—I take a plunge. Coat still open, I am spread-eagled, poles akimbo. Snow crawls inside my sweater and coat sleeves. The meditative sport just became worthy of prime time! Ha. Fortunately, no one is there to witness my ignominious downfall.

I brush off as much snow as I can and push on. I’m neither Plushenko nor a stalwart Swedish cross-country skier. No matter. This isn’t Sochi, either. (No, it’s colder here! They say the temperature there has gone above 60° Fahrenheit there. Putin’s follies.)

Sliding up and down the backs of white whales, feeling a little like Ahab, the rest of the run is unremarkable. Unremarkable, that is, unless you stop to consider, as I do, that this really is not Sochi; it is not even the Kettle Moraine State Forest. It is still the City of Milwaukee; still the Menomonee Valley. Amazing enough for me.

I glide on.

As no on was there to witness any of my first feat of cross-country skiing in twenty-odd years I resort to an unaccustomed selfie to record it. I feel as awkward pointing the camera at myself as I do on the skis! 

This post is one in a series that relates to my Menomonee Valley Artist in Residency. For more information about the residency and links to previous posts and photographs, go to MV AiR.

At midwinter: The rebirth of the Menomonee Valley

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I went for a nice long walk in 3 Bridges Park on Sunday afternoon, Groundhog Day. There was no sign of a groundhog, but also no doubt about seeing shadows. The sun was bright and the temperature surprisingly comfortable. It felt like a respite from our winter of alternating polar vortices and snowstorms. I had expected to find other people out enjoying the pleasant conditions but my ramble up and down the length of the park was surprisingly solitary.

Judging from the numerous tracks, Saturday had seen heavy use of the park, after yet another snowfall. Ski tracks along the sloping terrain, sled runs down the steeper hills, foot traffic along the Hank Aaron State Trail. Today, though, the park was empty—and beautiful, with a minimalist kind of simplicity. It appeared pristine, as if a freshly laundered sheet had been stretched over the rolling hills. How symbolic, I thought, of its newness and potential.

February 2, is Groundhog Day. But did you know that Feb. 1 is Imbolc? You can be forgiven if you’re not familiar with this ancient mid-winter festival. It is one of four seasonal festivals that come from the Gaelic tradition. Imbolc marks halfway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox and its approximation to Groundhog Day is unlikely to be a coincidence. Sunny or not it’s always a safe bet in Wisconsin that winter will last another six weeks; this year perhaps even longer!

Imbolc is closely tied to the ancient Celtic goddess Brigid, a healer and protector of artisans, poets, blacksmiths, and domesticated animals. Her element is fire and her season is spring. Christian Ireland turned a nun and abbess named Brigid (or Brigit) of Kildare into one of its three patron saints. Legend has it that St. Brigid “resigned her spirit to heaven” on February 1, which became her feast day. In this case the coincidences of name and date almost certainly are deliberate.

Whether it is referred to as Imbolc or the Feast Day of St. Brigid, however, February 1 is celebrated as the beginning of spring. Unlike Wisconsin, in Ireland it is not unreasonable to envision spring at this early date. But even here there are real as well as symbolic reasons for recognizing spring while the ground is still frozen and covered with snow. It is at this early date when the domestic animals associated with Brigid anticipate spring; ewes begin to lamb and cows to lactate. These hopeful signs, along with the lengthening days and gathering light, bolster people’s faith that seeds lying dormant in the earth will stir. The regeneration of spring that will burst forth at their sprouting is coming.

What does all this have to do with the Menomonee Valley? You might well ask.

I’d like to suggest that the Menomonee Valley is at a symbolic moment of burgeoning possibilities; a time when revitalization is more than a dormant seed in barren earth; a time, in metaphoric terms, akin to Imbolc, when faith and hope envision a brighter future.

The Menomonee Valley once shone brightly as the economic engine of Milwaukee. Although it came at a substantial cost to the natural environment, the Menomonee Valley’s diverse industries—railroads, machinery, leather, farm products, cream city bricks and others—employed thousands of people who lived in surrounding neighborhoods. Then, as these industries and jobs relocated, came the winter of decline and decay. By late 20^th century the formerly vibrant Valley was largely deserted and distressingly polluted.

For a couple of decades things looked quite bleak, much as they can during a particularly long, frigid and snowy winter. The ruins of vacant industries dominated the landscape; contaminated brownfields sprouted feral flora and fauna; the desultory and dirty river was constrained within steel cofferdams and concrete embankments. Few people without specific business there ventured into the Valley. Part of a national shift that saw the “industrial heartland” transformed into the “rust belt,” the Menomonee Valley, at the heart of the city, was its most visible manifestation in Milwaukee.

But, like the ancient followers of Brigid, there have always been a stalwart few who kept the faith, who believed that the Valley could be not simply reborn but reimagined. And what has been imagined involves an unusual combination of industry, community development and care for the environment.

At the dawn of a new century the Menomonee Valley is in the throes of a transformation. Industries are returning, bringing with them jobs that once again attract workers from adjacent neighborhoods. But this new transformation, unlike earlier industrial development, is accompanied by rehabilitation of the river and the natural environment. Along with new industry there are numerous new recreational opportunities. People are beginning to value the Valley in completely new ways. They are coming not only to work but also to play and to experience delight in the presence of nature.

What is being imagined and invented in the Menomonee Valley isn’t simply redevelopment but a new and more sustainable vision for how to live in cities. It is a healing vision that integrates industry, nature, and culture. The seeds of this vision have been sown and are beginning to stir. In fact, some already are visible: a new business park created out of the ruins of the Milwaukee Road yards; a newly accessible and cleaner river; recreational destinations such as Miller Park, Potawatomi Bingo & Casino and the Harley Davidson Museum. Threading them all together is the Hank Aaron State Trail, Wisconsin’s most unique State Park.

The work is not complete. Winter is ebbing and the way ahead looks brighter but it will take time and continued commitment for these seeds to bear fruit. It still is hard for many people to grasp the coming spring. 3 Bridges Park is one of the best places to go to understand the scope of change. Especially now, in mid-winter, with the hills snow laden and stark, it takes great imagination and no small measure of faith to recognize its potential. This is not simply a new park in the city where before there was none, as remarkable as that is. It is not merely open natural space in the most densely populated region of Wisconsin, as precious as that is. It is not only a refuge in an urban environment for wildlife and the human community, as vital as that is.

This apparently empty landscape is the canvas, the blank slate, on which our community has decided to paint a vision for urban life in the twenty-first century. Here in the park and throughout the Menomonee Valley we are forging new relationships between the too often disparate components of our society. It is a healing vision, worthy of the attention of saints and goddesses.

“Though I do not believe that a plant will spring up where no seed has been, I have great faith in a seed. Convince me that you have a seed there, and I am prepared to expect wonders.”  ~ Henry David Thoreau

This post is one in a series that relates to my Menomonee Valley Artist in Residency. For more information about the residency and links to previous posts and photographs, go to MV AiR.

Down by the riverside: Art and activism in Milwaukee

A local artist holds a water vigil in solidarity with West Virginia following the chemical spill.

Melanie was waiting when I double-parked in the small lot next to the Milwaukee River Bridge in the Third Ward. Her breath came out like a cloud as I approached. But with rosy cheeks and a buoyant spirit she greeted me cheerfully despite her wait in the –11° wind chill. Near the end of Milwaukee’s Riverwalk she had set up a shrine on a small silvery table. The location, where the Menomonee River meets the Milwaukee, was chosen to maximize the symbolism of the vigil for which the shrine was intended.

Because of the frigid conditions, the ceremony was brief and simple. Melanie knelt beside the shrine and stretched out a string of hand-printed prayer flags she had made for the occasion while I composed a few shots to document the vigil. Although no one else joined in, we were not alone on the river. We noted with curiosity the presence of ducks in a patch of open water. A pair of mallards and another of mergansers floated amid the steam rising off the river. Farther upstream a team of four coast guards were practicing winter water rescue from a hole they had cut in the solid ice.

Before I arrived Melanie had witnessed the passing of the barge that delivers coal to the We Energies Menomonee Valley Power Plant, taking note of the irony.

Melanie Ariens had invited me to participate and to document her Water Vigil. Nationally, the vigil was organized by 350.org, the global environmental activism organization founded by author Bill McKibben. On Tuesday, January 21 people around the country and the world were invited to “join in solidarity with West Virginians; to honor and protect all water!”

West Virginia, of course, is where a recent chemical spill polluted the Elk River so badly that tap water was shut down for thousands of residents in the capitol city of Charleston. A coal company was responsible for the spill.

Melanie told me, “I felt the need to participate in this vigil to show support from Milwaukee for those affected by the spill into the Elk River. It was the very small thing I could do. Imagine shutting down the water supply to Milwaukee for an extended period due to a chemical spill, then being told the water is ok, with only traces of the chemical in it. How would that make you feel about drinking it or bathing your child in it? It is a real statement of how unregulated and untested the chemical industry is.”

Melanie Ariens is not new to this combination of art and activism. A self-proclaimed “multi media artist, environmental advocate and volunteer community coordinator,” Ariens bills herself as an environmental artist. She has used the water shrine previously as an installation in other local waterways. She has a portfolio of digital images depicting a glass half full (or…?) on the Lake Michigan shoreline and in a variety of streams and other bodies of water. One of her best-known works is a wall-sized rendering of the Great Lakes in denim.

In her own words, “I make shrines, prayer flags, and other artwork as a way to honor the Great Lakes and freshwater. Making the work is a meditation for me, and hopefully an unusual presentation of an idea to get people to reflect on how important water is to life, and importantly to be stewards of this amazing resource.”

Ariens is both passionate and well versed on her issues. About the current vigil she said, “I know from the many years I have worked on pesticide reform that just because a chemical is listed with the EPA—in this case, 4-methylcyclohexane methanol—doesn't mean it has been tested; it just means they know it is out there. If we as individuals don't speak up and fiercely protect our water, abuse and contamination will happen.”

Ariens has a Bachelor of Fine Arts Degree from UWM, where she specialized in painting, drawing and printmaking. Now her work frequently includes multi media and installations. When not out in the landscape, she can be found at RedLine, Milwaukee where she is among the Artists-in-Residence.  ​

After about ten minutes at the shrine my gloved fingers were stingingly numb; my face and feet not far behind. Melanie, who had been there a half-hour longer, was holding her prayer flags without gloves. Her enthusiasm never flagged however and her smile was radiant. When we finished and started to disassemble the shrine we discovered that the half-full glasses of water had frozen to the surface. We pried them loose and tossed the remaining water into the river below.

In addition to posting them here and on Facebook, two of our images have been uploaded to a flickr page set up by 350.org to demonstrate solidarity and share the spirit of the event. When I checked just before posting this there were 182 images on the site. To see them click here.

For more on Melanie Ariens go to her website.

Triptych: Water Vigil

3 Bridges Park is a contender for a MANDI Award

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Ribbon cutting for the 3 Bridges Park opening

MANDI stands for The Milwaukee Awards for Neighborhood Development Innovation. The annual awards, given out by the Local Initiatives Support Corporation (LISC), recognize outstanding efforts to revitalize Milwaukee's central city neighborhoods. According to the MANDI page on LISC’s website, the goal of the award “is to lift up the inspiring stories of people and projects working to ensure that Milwaukee's central city is a great place to live, work, play and grow.”

Awards are given in six categories. Three Bridges Park is one of three finalists for the Brewers Community Foundation Public Space Award, which recognizes a public space that helps build the community. The other two finalists are the Milwaukee Rotary Centennial Arboretum and Journey House Packers Football Stadium.

I feel the need to say at the outset that these are all exemplary projects. I don’t envy the job of the volunteers who make the final selection, which might seem a little like choosing the best of your three children. All three will help make Milwaukee’s central city a better place to live, work, play and grow. And yet, I personally find the story of Three Bridges Park the most inspiring. Furthermore, the “story” of the park is more like a compilation of many stories told from many different points of view.

Last week the awards committee visited the Menomonee Valley branch of the Urban Ecology Center, which is adjacent to the park. They were there in order to hear testimony from stakeholders and neighbors about the value of the park, to hear their stories. The hearing is part of the rigorous and thoughtful analysis and discernment process that leads to selection of the award winner from amongst the finalists.

Some of those stories came from people in leadership positions who were instrumental in the creation and development of the park. Laura Bray, Executive Director of the Menomonee Valley Partners, gave an overview of the park. A video allowed us all to quickly experience, vicariously, the joy of people of all ages skiing and snowshoeing in the wintry conditions outside.

Ken Leinbach, Executive Director of the Urban Ecology Center, began with the word, “transformation.” Milwaukee’s newest park was created from scratch, “from the ground up,” as its promoters like to say. An abandoned rail yard next to a formerly polluted river is now a welcoming place to experience nature. The Menomonee River has been there all these years, he said, no more than 25 yards from some of the houses in the neighborhood. Any yet it was completely inaccessible until now.

Melissa Cook, the DNR’s Trail Manager for the Hank Aaron State Trail, explained the importance of the connectivity provided by the new park. A section of the Hank Aaron Trail runs through the park. Along with the eponymous 3 bridges and the Valley Passage Tunnel, the trail creates linkages between Mitchell Park, the new Menomonee Valley Branch of the Urban Ecology Center, Miller Park stadium, the entire Valley itself, the surrounding neighborhoods and beyond.

Several business leaders were there because visionary redevelopment plans that included Three Bridges Park had led them to bring their businesses back to a Menomonee Valley that had seen industries and jobs depart for decades previously. The Wisconsin Bike Federation decided that being adjacent to Three Bridges Park was an ideal location for its members, who bike there from all over the Milwaukee region.

Eloquent as many of the leaders were, some of the most inspiring stories came from people who live in the neighborhoods nearby.

Several people who live and work in the Silver City neighborhood that abuts the park to the south described with great passion how important it is to have a safe park, open green space, and a clean river so close for their children to enjoy nature. Three nearby neighborhoods, among the most densely populated in the state, had little parkland before. Now they can bike, explore and fish in Three Bridges Park.

A woman who came in her wheelchair applauded the developers of Three Bridges Park for making it so accessible.

A young father told the story that moved many in the audience to tears, including me. He and his wife moved to the Merrill Park neighborhood just north of the Valley last year and their first child was born at the same time as Three Bridges Park. He took the baby out to the park for her first portrait next to one of the newly planted trees. They plan to repeat the process yearly to mark the growth: of his daughter and the tree and the park.

I myself spoke about the experience of “discovering” the resurgence of feral wildlife in the post industrial brownfields of the Menomonee Valley many years ago during my explorations of what I came to call the urban wilderness. Since then I’ve seen a metamorphosis that seems as miraculous as that which turns a caterpillar into a butterfly. But there is no miracle in the intentionality of this enterprise, which is the result of hard work, dedication to a visionary plan and devotion to the needs of an urban community.

Glenna Holstein, director of the Menomonee Valley branch of the Urban Ecology Center, capped off the session by asserting that the story of Three Bridges Park is story of hope. Three Bridges Park is a good news story for young people growing up in a world of bad news. It is a story about the environment that stands in contrast to the all too common gloom and doom of pollution, global warming and habitat destruction; one that is uplifting about something we are doing right to make a brighter future.

The MANDI Awards are a program of the Local Initiatives Support Corporation and sponsored by US Bank. The MANDI Award winners will be announced at the MANDI Award ceremony on April 9, 2014 at the Pfister Hotel in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. For more information, visit the LISC website.


The images accompanying this post were taken during the Three Bridges Park opening ceremonies in July, 2013. To see more images from the event click here.

To see a video of the opening ceremonies click here. 

Clean Rivers, Clean Lake Conference Featured Artist

View of Milwaukee River north from Locust St. Bridge

I am honored to have been selected as the Featured Artist for the 2014 Clean Rivers, Clean Lake Conference sponsored by Sweet Water.

Sweet Water is shorthand for Southeastern Wisconsin Watersheds Trust, Inc., which promotes collaborations to secure healthy and sustainable water resources in our region. The 10th annual conference will take place this year at the Harley Davidson Museum on May 1, 2014.

The conference brings together a wide variety of water professionals, organizations, businesses, elected officials and ordinary citizens for a day of presentations, panel discussions and workshops related to rivers, lakes and water issues.

An annual State of the Lakes address is an important part of the day. The address will be given this year by Dean David Garman and Dr. Sandra McLellan of the University of Wisconsin - Milwaukee School of Freshwater Sciences.

For more information about Sweet Water, visit their website. To learn more about the conference, go to Clean Rivers, Clean Lake Conference.

Lake Michigan after a storm