Des Moines, IOWA — Saturday, September 6, 2025

Morning light over the Iowa State Capitol in Des Moines, the golden dome glowing against a crisp blue sky, with the American and Iowa flags standing tall on the plaza below

Des Moines welcomed me with the kind of perfect September weather that feels almost scripted — blue skies, crisp air, and sunshine bouncing off every surface. It was the ideal backdrop for a one-day visit to Iowa’s capital.

At the center of the city stands the Iowa State Capitol, easily one of the most impressive capitol buildings in the country. Its golden dome rises above the trees and skyline, glistening against the blue sky like a crown of the Midwest. The closer you walk, the more the details reveal themselves — ornate carvings, wide steps, and grand symmetry that make you stop and admire.

What struck me most was the balance of tradition and openness. The American and Iowa flags flanked the path leading up to the building, rippling in the breeze, while native grasses swayed along the walkways. The plaza itself felt designed for moments like this — pausing with a camera in hand, taking in the scene, and realizing that this is more than just a government building. It’s a symbol of pride for Iowa.

Though my time in Des Moines was short, this stop made the day feel full. The Capitol captured everything I love about exploring new places: history, architecture, and a sense of belonging even as a visitor. Sometimes one landmark is enough to define a trip, and for me, this was it.

The Soldiers and Sailors Monument stands proudly before the Iowa State Capitol in Des Moines, its bronze figures saluting beneath the morning sun as the Capitol’s golden dome rises behind them.

As the morning sun rose higher over Des Moines, I found myself drawn closer to the Iowa State Capitol, this time focusing not just on its glittering golden dome, but also on the monument that stands watch in front of it.

The Soldiers and Sailors Monument, a striking bronze sculpture, commands attention at the base of the Capitol steps. The figures — steadfast, resolute, and etched in lifelike detail — represent the men who fought to preserve the Union during the Civil War. One raises a hand to his brow in salute, gazing forward as if still standing guard over the Capitol and the people of Iowa. Behind them, the dome glowed brilliantly in the morning light, casting an almost sacred backdrop to the scene.

What I loved about this view was the contrast between stone, bronze, and gold. The dark patina of the monument anchored the frame, the limestone pedestal gave it permanence, and the dome above reminded me that service and sacrifice are part of the foundation upon which Iowa’s history rests.

Standing there, I felt the layers of meaning converge: civic pride, architectural beauty, and the enduring reminder of those who came before. It wasn’t just a statue in front of a building — it was a story in itself, framed perfectly by the Capitol’s golden crown against the September sky.

Crossing the Grand Avenue Bridge into downtown Des Moines, with the city skyline reflecting a bright September morning along the Des Moines River.

After spending the morning at the Capitol, I made my way toward the Grand Avenue Bridge, one of the gateways into downtown Des Moines. From here, the city reveals itself in layers — the steady flow of traffic, the calm surface of the Des Moines River, and beyond it, the skyline rising steadily into the September sky.

The bridge itself carries a rhythm of daily life: buses rumbling across, commuters heading to work, and walkers pausing just long enough to take in the view. On the left, the inscription Grand Avenue is carved into the concrete — simple, but a reminder that even a bridge can mark the passage into a city’s core.

What struck me in this moment was the contrast: the blue water below, the bright sky above, and the towers of downtown anchoring it all together. The tall, pyramid-topped Ruan Center stood prominently against the horizon, framed by modern glass buildings and historic structures that tell the story of a city growing yet grounded in its Midwestern roots.

Looking straight down Grand Avenue into the heart of downtown Des Moines, with the Ruan Center and historic Equitable Building rising against the September sky.

Continuing across the bridge, I paused again to look straight down Grand Avenue itself. The skyline shifted as I drew closer — from this angle, the Ruan Center rose even taller, flanked by the historic Equitable Building with its white crown and the modern Marriott hotel to the right. A city that looked distant from the bridge now felt within reach, buzzing with possibility.

Standing on that bridge and looking ahead, I felt like I was crossing more than just a river. I was stepping into the rhythm of Des Moines — a city that blends business, culture, and community into a skyline that deserves to be seen up close.

The entrance marker at the John and Mary Pappajohn Sculpture Park, introducing visitors to a world-class collection of outdoor art in downtown Des Moines.

Continuing my walk through downtown Des Moines, I soon arrived at the John and Mary Pappajohn Sculpture Park. The entrance marker stood tall beneath the shade of trees, a simple steel panel inscribed with the story of how this park came to be — a collaboration between philanthropists, the city, and the art community. It wasn’t just a list of donors; it was a declaration of purpose.

This was art made accessible. Not locked away in a gallery, not hidden behind walls, but placed right here in the open air of the city — free for anyone to enjoy. Standing at the sign, I felt like I was stepping into a cultural heartbeat, a place where creativity and community intersect.

The path ahead promised discovery: sculptures scattered across green lawns, each one with its own story to tell. And with the September sky still painted in clear blue, it was the perfect setting to wander, reflect, and let the art reshape the way I saw the city.

This stop wasn’t just another highlight of my Des Moines visit — it was where the city revealed its creative soul.

A towering figure formed from interwoven white letters, one of the most iconic sculptures at the Pappajohn Sculpture Park.

Further into my walk, I came face to face with one of the park’s most striking installations: a massive human figure constructed entirely from letters. Standing before it, I couldn’t help but be drawn into its hollow form, where sunlight and sky poured through the spaces between characters.

From a distance, the sculpture felt monumental, but up close it revealed its fragility — each letter balancing delicately against the next, just like the way language builds meaning piece by piece. Walking around it, every angle told a new story: sometimes it looked solid, sometimes transparent, always inviting interpretation.

In that moment, I realized this wasn’t just a sculpture to be seen — it was one to be experienced. It was as if the artist had given shape to communication itself, reminding visitors that words and ideas are what connect us, just as surely as art connects this city to those who explore it.

Bright, bold figures by Keith Haring add energy and movement to the green lawns of the Pappajohn Sculpture Park.

A little further into the park, the atmosphere shifted from reflective to playful. In the middle of the lawn stood a trio of colorful, dancing figures, instantly recognizable as the work of Keith Haring. Painted in vibrant red, yellow, and blue, they seemed to leap right off the grass, frozen mid-motion yet alive with rhythm.

Unlike the towering lettered figure, which asked for quiet contemplation, this piece invited joy. It felt lighthearted, approachable — the kind of art that makes kids smile, joggers stop mid-stride, and travelers like me linger just a little longer. Against the backdrop of blue sky and modern architecture, the sculptures brought a burst of fun that reminded me art can be as much about celebration as it is about meaning.

A bronze hare perched atop a boulder, both whimsical and mysterious, marking my final stop in the Pappajohn Sculpture Park.

As I neared the end of my walk through the park, I came upon one of the most unusual and unforgettable sculptures: a bronze hare with elongated ears, crouched atop a massive boulder. Its posture was tense, almost watchful, as though it were guarding the grounds while gazing out over the city.

Unlike the colorful joy of the dancing figures or the contemplative openness of the lettered silhouette, this piece felt more enigmatic. It carried a sense of whimsy, yes, but also something deeper — a reminder that art doesn’t always give clear answers. Sometimes it asks questions, sparks curiosity, and leaves you to decide what it means.

With the September sky still bright and blue, I paused for one last look before leaving the park. In a single space, I had walked through humor, reflection, energy, and mystery — all expressed through art that was free and open to everyone.

The Iowa Women of Achievement Bridge spans the Des Moines River, linking the city skyline with a striking symbol of progress and recognition.

Further along my journey, I reached the Iowa Women of Achievement Bridge, one of Des Moines’ most distinctive landmarks. Its graceful white arch stretched across the Des Moines River, drawing a clean line between the two banks and framing the city skyline beyond.

What makes this bridge special is not just its design, but its purpose. Dedicated to honoring the legacies of Iowa women who made lasting contributions to the state and beyond, the bridge stands as both a functional crossing and a civic tribute. Walking across it, I felt a sense of connection — not just between downtown and the East Village, but between past achievements and the city’s future.

From the middle of the span, the view was remarkable. Behind me, the State Capitol’s golden dome gleamed in the distance. Ahead, the towers of downtown rose proudly against the September sky. Beneath, the river flowed steady and calm, carrying the reflections of both.

This stop reminded me that a city isn’t only defined by its buildings or its art — it’s also defined by the stories it chooses to honor. And here, Des Moines honors progress, perseverance, and the impact of women whose names deserve to be remembered.

The Robert D. Ray Asian Gardens, with its striking red and green pavilion overlooking the Des Moines River — a serene symbol of culture and connection in the city.

My next stop brought me to the Robert D. Ray Asian Gardens, a peaceful riverside space dedicated to celebrating Asian heritage and honoring Iowa’s former governor, Robert D. Ray. The gardens feature traditional landscaping, a flowing connection to the river, and at its heart, a brilliant red and green pavilion that immediately captures attention.

The pavilion’s tiered rooflines and intricate details stood out beautifully against the bright September sky. It felt like stepping into another culture’s traditions while still being rooted in the city of Des Moines. The gardens themselves are designed as a place of reflection, reminding visitors of both the diversity that shapes the community and the importance of global connections.

Standing there, I admired how this space balanced energy and calm — the busy city skyline on one side, and the quiet dignity of the pavilion on the other. It was a reminder that Des Moines is not only about its golden domes and modern bridges, but also about honoring cultural ties and providing places for reflection.

A smaller pedestrian bridge with a colorful canopy, blending art and function along the walking paths of downtown Des Moines.

Further into my riverside walk, I came across another bridge — smaller in scale than the grand spans I had seen earlier, but no less striking. This pedestrian bridge combined industrial framework with artistic design, featuring a weathered steel structure paired with a vibrant, mosaic-like canopy above.

What I liked about this spot was how it felt both practical and expressive. The bridge connected paths across the landscaped lawns, but it also doubled as public art. The canopy caught the sunlight, scattering color and shadow across the walkway below, turning a simple crossing into an experience.

It wasn’t a landmark like the State Capitol or the Women of Achievement Bridge, but it carried its own quiet charm. It reminded me that in Des Moines, even the smaller details — a pedestrian bridge, a splash of color, a blend of old and new — add to the city’s identity.

The Polk County Courthouse in downtown Des Moines — a towering Beaux-Arts masterpiece with a clock tower that rises proudly above the historic streetscape.

As I continued my walk through downtown Des Moines, the street opened into a perfectly framed view of the Polk County Courthouse. The building loomed at the end of the avenue, drawing me in with its sheer presence. Its limestone façade glowed in the midday light, every intricate detail of its Beaux-Arts architecture catching the eye — from the arched entryways at street level to the ornate carvings and statues perched high above.

The courthouse, completed in 1906, feels less like an office of law and more like a monument to civic pride. Its clock tower dominates the skyline, the round face gleaming against the blue sky as if keeping time not just for the courthouse, but for the entire city. Standing there, I could almost imagine the generations who had walked these same streets — citizens heading to hearings, community members gathering for justice, or passersby like me simply stopping to admire its grandeur.

The approach itself added to the scene. On either side, historic red-brick and early 20th-century buildings mingled with modern apartments and storefronts. Hanging baskets of flowers softened the urban edges, adding bursts of color to the strong lines of stone and steel. Looking down the empty stretch of pavement, the courthouse felt like the natural anchor of downtown, pulling the eye and commanding respect.

What struck me most was how the courthouse symbolized the blend of history and modern life that defines Des Moines. The city is constantly evolving, but here was a building that had stood firm for more than a century, still serving its original purpose while adding character and depth to the city’s heart.

A preserved log cabin marking the birthplace of Des Moines, once part of Fort Des Moines No. 2.

Further along my walk, near the ballpark, I stumbled upon a piece of Des Moines history that felt worlds apart from the skyscrapers and modern bridges I had seen earlier. Standing quietly on a patch of grass was a small log cabin, its weathered wood and shingled roof instantly transporting me back to another era.

A sign above the doorway told the story: this was the birthplace of Des Moines, once part of Fort Des Moines No. 2, built in the mid-1800s. Here, where the Raccoon and Des Moines Rivers meet, soldiers and settlers laid the foundations of what would become the city.

The structure itself was simple — rough-hewn logs stacked with chinking, wooden shutters fastened shut, and a stone chimney climbing up one side. Compared to the ornate Capitol dome or the soaring courthouse tower, the cabin’s power came from its humility. It was raw, sturdy, and enduring, just like the people who first called this place home.

Standing in front of it, I thought about how far the city has come. From this modest frontier building to the thriving urban landscape around me, Des Moines has transformed in ways its first residents could never have imagined. Yet, the cabin remains as a reminder — that every city begins somewhere, often in the most unassuming of places.

This stop was a quiet but powerful chapter in my walk, grounding my day’s journey in the deep roots of the city’s past.

Nothing beats wrapping up the day with an Iowa Cubs game at Principal Park.

I ended my day the best way you can in Des Moines — by catching a game at Principal Park. The ballpark came alive as the sun set, with the crack of the bat, the cheers of the crowd, and the glow of stadium lights reflecting off the river. It wasn’t just about the baseball — it was about the atmosphere. Families, friends, and fans filled the stands, all sharing in a tradition that felt as much a part of the city as the Capitol dome or the riverfront bridges.

Stepping onto the field at Principal Park for ‘Catch on the Field’ night — a chance to play where the pros do under the Iowa sky.

It was the perfect finish to a day spent exploring Des Moines — a reminder that beyond its landmarks and history, the city’s true heartbeat is in the experiences that bring people together.