FOR THE PAST THREE YEARS, I’ve photographed the over-sized snowmen sculpted in the Hoisington family’s yard in the heart of Faribault at 18 Third Avenue Northwest.
This year I braved double digit below zero windchills on a bitterly cold Sunday afternoon to document a sculpture that brings me joy.
A snowman hearkens to carefree days of childhood, when I actually loved winter. It brings memories of laboring with my siblings to roll snow into monumental balls. Three snowballs stacked atop each other to build our version of Frosty.
Snowmen and snow days. Snowdrifts hard as granite. Snow bucked into piles by Dad behind the John Deere tractor and loader. Imaginary mountains upon which we raced as Canadian Mounties.
Boots crunching on snow, the sharp sound slicing the quiet of the Minnesota prairie. Noses dripping. Cheeks flaming red. Fingers numbing through too thin gloves.
These are my winter memories, elicited by photographing a snowman.
What are yours?
Check back tomorrow to see another notable snowman gracing a Faribault yard just blocks from the Hoisington snowman.
© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling