It’s the Island Park Gazebo, a structure that held a great romantic power for me as a youth. (I’ll explain why later, in the “Imagination Festival” section of this site.) (Which isn’t up yet.) I discovered it at a time when Fargo seemed very modern, believe it or not; all the new construction had the usual banal beige brick associated with the Seventies, and ornamentation of any sort wasn’t in the budget. This little structure seemed like a classical temple, haunted by jaunty ghosts in striped shirts playing music on a warm June evening. 

It was never a complete wreck, and now it's a populat spot for weddings or wedding pictures.