Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Happy birthday to my daughter Miranda November 16, 2016

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WORTHY OF ADMIRATION. WONDERFUL.

Look up the definition of Miranda and those are the words that define the name derived from Latin.

Miranda, five days old

Miranda, five days old

But to me the name is much more personal. Much more meaningful. Much more precious. Miranda is the name my husband and I chose for our second daughter. Today our Miranda celebrates her birthday.

She fits the definition of admirable and wonderful. And here’s why:

Our daughter is incredibly caring, kind and compassionate. Not only in the loyalty of her friendship but in her care for others. While still a high school student, she went on mission trips to help hurricane survivors. She also modeled good choices, resisting peer pressure and more through theater and outreach at her high school.

She’s well beyond those years now. Still her compassion prevails in her work as a Spanish medical interpreter, in service projects at her church and in simply caring deeply about others.

Miranda in Valles Calchaquies, near the town of Cafayate in the Salta province.

Miranda in Valles Calchaquies, near the town of Cafayate in the Salta province during one of her trips to Argentina.

But there’s much more to Miranda. Beneath her external gentleness, she is incredibly strong. Rock strong. At age four, she walked with a nurse toward a hospital operating room, Big Bird in hand, neither crying or afraid. As a teen, she powered through wearing a back brace 24/7 for a year with focused determination. While traveling in Argentina, she fought off an attacker and come through stronger than ever. Not much rattles her.

As a little girl, Miranda was all girly girl, wearing only skirts and donning ribbons in her hair. She also loved horses, including her stick horse, shown here in a photo taken when she was 5 1/2.

As a little girl, Miranda was all girly girl, wearing skirts and donning ribbons in her hair. She also loved horses, including her stick horse, shown here in a photo taken when she was 5 1/2. She still has beautiful curly hair, although no longer blonde.

She has always been her own person. Independent and spirited in the way that she’s OK with following her own path. I admire that quality in her. At an amusement park, you’d find Miranda rocking the roller coaster, hands up. She’s that kind of adventurous. Seemingly unafraid.

Miranda and me. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo February 2016.

Miranda and me. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo February 2016.

I don’t see Miranda nearly as often as I would like; she lives 300 miles away. But I think of her daily, holding her close in my heart and my prayers. I love her with the same fierceness as the day she was born, even before she was born. The kind of love so strong it locks your heart forever to your child. The kind of love that can’t be defined by words, but rather by emotions and feelings and an overwhelming need to always be there for your child. No matter their age. To want the best for them—to be safe and happy and well.

Miranda is an adult now, has been for more than a decade. But that doesn’t change how I feel about her, how deep my motherly love.

She is beautiful in so many ways. And on this day, her day, I wish my daughter a most beautiful birthday. And I want her to know how very much I love her. Always.

© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

In Hayfield, Part II: The Flying Monkey November 15, 2016

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IF FLYING MONKEYS terrify you, then stop reading this post. Unless you drink.

 

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I recently happened upon Flying Monkey Saloon in Hayfield. I didn’t set foot inside the small town bar. Not because I’m afraid of flying monkeys. But because the time had not yet reached noon. I wish I’d broken my self-imposed rule and at least poked my head inside a bar with a catchy name and equally appealing graphics.

 

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My sole source of info about this Main Street Hayfield bar comes from the internet. Hannah and Craig met and drank beer here. And now they’re engaged to be married in February 2017.

The burger baskets are endorsed as “awesome,” an overused word that I particularly dislike. But I’ll trust that Flying Monkey burgers really are delicious.

Flying Monkey apparently chooses a Customer of the Week. I have no idea the process or what the honor entails. But it sounds good to me. Maybe you get a free beer. Or burger.

Bikers and cruisers are drawn here. So Facebook shows me. That’s as good an endorsement as any for a small town bar.

 

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If I ever return to Hayfield, I promise to check out the Flying Monkey Saloon. Even if I’m there before noon.

© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

In Hayfield, Part I: Snapshots of a Minnesota farming community November 14, 2016

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I pulled this logo from The City of Hayfield, Minnesota, website.

I pulled this logo from The City of Hayfield, Minnesota, website.

 

HAYFIELD. EVEN THE NAME sounds rural. Hay. Field.

 

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This Dodge County farming community of around 1,300 reminds me of my hometown, Vesta, a much smaller town of around 330 on the southwestern Minnesota prairie.

 

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Both are rooted in agriculture, most visually evident in the local grain elevators.

 

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But it was the discovery of seemingly abandoned vintage grain wagons in Hayfield that drew my primary personal interest. I remember such wagons brimming with corn and soybeans. I remember hiding inside these empty cavities as my siblings and I played out the 1960s TV westerns we watched. Such memories.

Today I am drawn to explore small towns because they connect me to my past, to the place and the people that shaped me.

 

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There’s something about a rural community that weaves people together through the commonality of living in the same intimate space. Lives crisscross in school hallways, in post offices, inside churches, at the bank, outside the grain elevator…in grocery stores (if a small town still has one, and Hayfield does).

 

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Most often, but not always, community pride runs strong. I see that in volunteer fire departments; in local Legions that, despite dwindling membership, remain open; in annual community festivals; and Friday night steak fries. Bingo, too.

 

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And, especially, in the schools, if a small town is still fortunate enough to have its own school. And Hayfield does.

TELL ME: How do you define a small town and do you have a favorite?

© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Post-election choices November 13, 2016

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IN A WEEK THAT’S BEEN particularly difficult for our country, let’s pause and reflect on the goodness we can each do. Individually.

We can choose to be kind. We can choose to listen. We can choose to be respectful. We can choose to act like adults and not like bullies on the playground.

We can smooth the rough surfaces we’ve etched with our words.

We can empathize and offer compassion and be gentle with one another.

We can choose love over hatred.

We have the choice. Which will you choose?

I direct you to Minnesota Public Radio’s story, “Na-na-na-na No-no: A guide to post-election etiquette,” and to Twin Cities Christian radio station KTIS and Jason Gray’s song, “With Every Act of Love.”

© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The power of water, in images & words November 11, 2016

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Lake Kohlmier in Owatonna.

Lake Kohlmier in Owatonna.

WATER. What is it about this compound of hydrogen and oxygen that fascinates us? Or at least me.

The Straight River churns at the Morehouse Park dam in Owatonna.

The Straight River churns at the Morehouse Park dam in Owatonna.

The sound of rushing water, like rushing wind, soothes. It comforts me in the sort of way a lullaby can quiet a crying baby. It’s as if that rushing sound is locked away in our subconscious, there before birth. Undeniable, connecting us to the water womb comfort of our mothers.

Wind-churned water bobbed this mud hen along the surface of Lake Kohlmier.

Wind-churned water bobbed this mud hen along the surface of Lake Kohlmier.

Water’s powerful pull extends well beyond the audible. Water sustains us. Physically. Yet more. Visually, water draws us near to watch its movement—flowing, tumbling, rushing, rocking.

The Straight River flows toward the historic Owatonna Public Utilities building.

The Straight River flows toward the historic Owatonna Public Utilities building.

I am captivated by the musical, rhythmic movement of water.

Still, clear creek water in Kaplan's Woods.

Still, clear creek water in Owatonna’s Kaplan’s Woods.

Sometimes a ballad.

Water rushes over the Morehouse Park dam.

The turbulent waters at the Morehouse Park dam.

Other times rock-n-roll.

A close-up of the churning Straight River as photographed from the Morehouse Park recreational trail bridge.

A close-up of the churning Straight River as photographed from the Morehouse Park recreational trail bridge.

Maybe a turbulent county western song of love lost, love found, too much booze and too many late nights. Bluesy. Sad. Hopeful.

I can rest beside a waterfall, a dam, a creek, a river for considerable time, almost hypnotized by the sights and sounds. It’s as if water washes away my worries, sending them downstream, far, far away. I find peace in water.

A creek in Kaplan's Woods.

A creek in Kaplan’s Woods.

Water holds such power.

TELL ME: What power does it hold for you?

© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Into the woods on an autumn afternoon in southern Minnesota November 10, 2016

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I DOUBT I’VE EVER SEEN so many oak leaves layering the ground. Thick. Brown. Rustling underfoot.

As my husband and I hiked into Kaplan’s Woods in Owatonna on Sunday afternoon, I noticed the abundance of oaks that distinguishes this city park from other parks/nature centers I’ve visited.

There’s something about an oak that denotes history and strength.

Yet, the distraction of all those oak leaves crackling underfoot doesn’t detract from my ability to notice nature’s details.

 

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Flash of yellow among mostly brown and grey.

 

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Bare (or mostly bare) branches set against a signature cobalt blue November sky.

 

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Fungi laddering up a tree trunk. Beautiful in an artistic, natural way. Like Nature’s sculpture.

 

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And then an unnatural road block at the end of a muddied path. “A gated community,” Randy jokes. And we laugh. Together. In the woods, under the oaks.

 

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In the dirt, initials carved with a stick, an “A” and maybe a “U.” Another Audrey? Probably not.

We turn around, our path blocked. I suggest we return to the main trail into the woods. We’re unfamiliar with this place and I have no intention of getting lost. Neither does Randy.

 

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Leaves crunch beneath our shoes. But then I stop abruptly, swing my camera left toward a moss covered log, the golden light falling just right.

I fail to hear or notice the runner closing in behind us. I’m in the zone, focused on photographing a selected scene. Randy, however, is watchful. He warns me. We step aside and continue on, a biker now barreling toward us on his mountain bike.

© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

On being a grandma November 9, 2016

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JUST OVER SEVEN MONTHS AGO, I became a grandma to sweet baby Isabelle. Izzy for short.

She’s stolen my heart in a way only a grandbaby can. Everything she does is new and beautiful and joyful and wonderful. This coming from a woman who raised three kids. Still, it’s different with Izzy.

Those of you who have been grandparents for awhile get it. Those of us who are novices are learning. Although we will protect and care for our grandchildren, they are not our sole responsibilities. That, I think, makes all the difference. It really is true that we can spoil them and then send them home, although my granddaughter is just a little too young to spoil.

I take great joy in watching my eldest daughter care for her daughter. I see the tenderness, the love, the delight Amber finds in being a full-time mom. Her voice soothes and encourages and even prompts her baby girl to giggle at her mama.

In half a year of life, Isabelle has grown and changed so much. She’s sprouted two teeth, is rolling over, sitting up and eating solid food. She laughs and “talks” and gives this grandma more love than I ever imagined a baby could give.

I am truly, totally, head-over-heels in love with my granddaughter.

© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Vote November 8, 2016

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The Voting Rights Act of 1965 helped African Americans exercise their right to vote under the 15th Amendment to the Constitution. Stephen Somerstein photographed Bobby Simmons, a member of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committe. Simmons was wearing zinc oxide to prevent sunburn and wrote VOTE onto his forehead. This photo shows a section of Somerstein’s portrait of Simmons showcased in an April 2015 exhibit, “Selma to Montgomery: Marching Along the Voting Rights Trail,” at St. Olaf College in Northfield. I photographed the photo with permission. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2015.

DO YOU REMEMBER a time when elections were focused primarily on the issues? Minimal or no name-calling? When candidates acted like anyone mattered outside of themselves. When candidates treated each other with decency.

Yeah, I know. It’s difficult to remember that in a year dominated by such campaign negativity. On all levels, not just national.

I’ve read signs and bumper stickers and words I can’t repeat. Likewise with TV ads I’ve heard.

No matter where you stand, what you think, how frustrated you are, remember this. You have a voice. Use your voice today. Vote.

There was a time when not everyone in this country could vote. On Election Day 1920 women voted for the first time after the 19th Amendment to the Constitution was passed, giving them that right. And now a woman is on the ballot for President of the United States.

No matter which candidates you support today, remember, you are free to vote. And that is something for which you can be especially thankful. You have that democratic right. Use it. Vote.

© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Remember this weekend when the snow flies, my dear Minnesotans November 6, 2016

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Feeding the ducks in Morehouse Park, Owatonna, Minnesota, Sunday afternoon.

Feeding the ducks in Owatonna’s Morehouse Park on Sunday afternoon.

IF YOU LIVE IN MINNESOTA and did not spend most of this past weekend outdoors, then please do not complain come January. For we have had a gloriously long autumn that has extended in to these early days of November.

Walking on a carpet of oak leaves in Kaplan Woods, Owatonna.

Walking on a carpet of oak leaves in Kaplan’s Woods, Owatonna.

What a gift. What an absolute gift. Each day that the weather remains warm, sunny and without snow means one less day of winter.

Every detail, even leaves in a creek in Kaplan Woods, delighted me.

Every detail, even leaves in a creek in Kaplan’s Woods, delighted me.

For that I am thankful.

Some leaves are still clinging to trees like these by Lake Kohlmier in Owatonna.

Some leaves are still clinging to trees like these by Lake Kohlmier in Owatonna.

Sunshine and warmth defined the weekend, one I documented with my camera. When the snow flies and the temps dip to well below zero, I will pull up these photos and remember the delightful Autumn of 2016. And perhaps that will carry me to spring.

Cruisin' with the top down along Intersate 35E north of St. Paul Saturday afternoon.

Cruisin’ with the top down along Intersate 35E north of St. Paul Saturday afternoon.

Following a gravel road near Clinton Falls in Steele County.

Following a gravel road near Clinton Falls in Steele County on Sunday afternoon.

Finishing the corn harvest south of Faribault Sunday afternoon.

Finishing the corn harvest south of Faribault Sunday afternoon.

Mud hens bob across the choppy waters of Lake Kohlmier.

Mud hens bob across the choppy waters of Lake Kohlmier.

Checking out Lake Kohmier at the boat landing.

Checking out Lake Kohmier at the boat landing.

Taking the 1970s Ford Maverick out for a cruise Sunday afternoon by Lake Kohmier.

Taking the 1970s Ford Maverick out for a cruise Sunday afternoon by Lake Kohmier.

Sunday afternoon fishing along the Straight River in Morehouse Park.

Sunday afternoon fishing along the Straight River in Morehouse Park.

Water churns in the Straight River at the Morehouse Park dam.

Water churns in the Straight River at the Morehouse Park dam.

A recreational trail bridges the Straight River/Morehouse Park dam.

A recreational trail bridges the Straight River/Morehouse Park dam, a popular spot for outdoor enthusiasts this weekend.

Lots of dogs were out with their owners.

Lots of dogs were out with their owners.

Almost unbelievable: mowing lawn on Sunday, November 6, in Owatonna.

Almost unbelievable: mowing lawn on Sunday, November 6, in Owatonna.

© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Of pumpkins, pots & photos November 4, 2016

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roadside-flower-shop-sale-in-rochester-mn

 

THIS SCENE PACKS A LOT.

I count two dozen pumpkins, 28 flower pots, seven signs, one butterfly and one squirrel.

If I hadn’t photographed this sidewalk sale while traveling along Broadway in Rochester, I would have missed the details. The merchandise would have simply blurred in a flash of orange.

But now, well after my pass through this southeastern Minnesota city, I can study the photo, like examining the pages of an I Spy book. That’s the beauty of an image. Once you’ve shot it, you can return and appreciate what you’ve photographed.

And I always appreciate slices of everyday life preserved with the click of a shutter button.

FYI: I direct you to the work of Red Wing photographer Dan Traun. He’s especially gifted in documenting everyday scenes on the move. Click here to view Dan’s photos.

© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling