Minnehaha

Taking the No. 55 light rail in twin cities towards the airport, you will hear a station name: Minnehaha Park. People often repeat it and laugh: Minne-haha--It sounds like a person is laughing, especially an Indian girl. Yes, that’s an Indian girl. She must be a lovely girl who loved to laugh.

This is a state park with a life-size bronze sculpture of the legendary lovers, Hiawatha and Minnehaha, written in Longfellow's epic poem "The Song of Hiawatha." Hiawatha was an excellent leader of a Native American tribe, and Minnehaha was his bride. Although the story came to a tragic end, their love is a touching legend. The falls in this park is the symbol of their love. In Longfellow’s poem, Minnehaha was thought of as “laughing water.” Although, in fact, Minnehaha means "waterfall" in the Dakota language, I prefer Longfellow’s statement.

"Thus it was they journeyed homeward;

Thus it was that Hiawatha

To the lodge of old Nokomis

Brought the moonlight, starlight, firelight,

Brought the sunshine of his people,

Minnehaha, Laughing Water,

Handsomest of all the women

In the land of the Dacotahs,

In the land of handsome women."

I like this name, which, just like a smile, always makes people feel good. When I was in Twin Cities, I lived near the laughter. Starting from Minnehaha every morning, you might feel like "leaving home laughing with head holding high." While most people entering the park is to feel the real laughter -- the sound of running water.

The main view of the park is water. In the laughter of Minnehaha, the gurgling brook runs towards Mississippi, laughing and jumping down the fifty-three-feet limestone bluff to become a laughing waterfall; after spinning around in the little pond, rushing forward with a laugh. The falls would be frozen in the winter to form a blue ice crust, which is spectacular, but the laughter is never frozen. It becomes a silent smile.

It takes a half-hour hiking in a small valley with a dense grove on both sides, from the waterfall to the Mississippi River. Sometimes the little trees would playfully stretch out their branches into the water. The stream patted the stems and leaves, then pass by. She walks all the way, laughing and teasing the accompanying fish, bugs, fallen fruits, and leaves. She also showed her smiling face as a wave when she touched a stone, then ran away until into the arms of the wide Mississippi River.

Occasionally on a sunny Autumn afternoon, I would walk slowly along the stream, listening to the stream's laughter. And I know that there are not just the love story in this laughter, but also some marks of ancient times -- fossils. Fossil snails, shells, oysters, clams, recorded one hundred million years ago’s ocean life---here once was submerged by the continental ocean, now it is several hundred miles from the sea. Picking up a stone in the creek, you can easily find them. The traces of ancient times, the memories of life condensed in the dust, are here, silently smiling and watching the stream laughing and passing. Kissing these memories, Minnehaha laughed it off.

In a blink of an eye, I have left Minnesota and the park a long time. The Native Americans in the Twin Cities even have much longer since disappeared. But Minnehaha is still there, laughing, always laughing. "It passes on just like this, not ceasing day or night!"

When I was down and dull, occasionally, I thought of this name, Minnehaha. My mood would be inexplicably infected by her laughter. Minnehaha then laughed and ran away again...