This sign marks the way to homes along Norway Lane, Nisswa, Minnesota.
I DON’T RECALL the precise wording of the signs. But the homemade notices posted in strategic high traffic areas in Nisswa proved catchy enough that Randy and I simply had to find the garage sale.
Unfamiliar with this central Minnesota community (we were staying at a nearby lake cabin), we relied on the signage (not GPS) to reach our destination along Norway Lane.
The official street signs.
Ah, yes, we Minnesotans are proud of our heritages and this street name proved that. I quickly spotted a second ethnic-themed sign for an intersecting street. Oslo Way.
We continued a short distance down Norway Lane until a handwritten sign on a mailbox alerted us to the garage sale location:
The humorous sign telling us we’d reached the garage sale.
Although there was no free beer (maybe because it was still early afternoon and not yet happy hour on this Friday), I found a snowsuit and light jacket for our 21-month-old grandson. I regret not purchasing the toy work bench playset for $10. My daughter later told me I should have bought it. Sigh.
Lesson learned. Trust your gut if you think you should buy something for your grandchild at a garage sale. If the parents don’t want it, they can always give it away.
And I learned one more thing. At least one person living along Norway Lane defies the stereotypical definition of Norwegians as reserved and stoic. Cheers!
Looking up at trees in view of my backyard, from our solo maple, to the neighbor’s tree to the woods behind our garage.
AS I WRITE, a grey-haired man leans into the fierce wind as he walks his black lab along the sidewalk across the street. In the distance, a block away, I note a fiery red maple blazing color into the cityscape. Soon, though, my neighborhood will be devoid of color, trees stripped of leaves, as autumn shifts ever closer to winter.
A leaf on a perennial in my yard.
These days, more than ever, I am cognizant of autumn’s departure, of what I anticipate to be an especially long winter ahead with COVID-19.
Our neighbor’s beautiful backyard maple set against a cobalt sky. The tree is mostly bare now.
But for now, I want to take you into my backyard, to scenes I photographed within the past 10 days. My yard presents a microcosm of autumn in southern Minnesota. Colorful. Ever-changing. Cobalt skies one day, grey skies the next.
I’ve been bagging leaves in our yard to take to the city compost pile.
Tuesday and Wednesday I worked in my yard, emptying pots of flowers, raking and bagging leaves, all those seasonal tasks I’ve put off. As I age, I find I don’t enjoy this work as much. I’d rather do fun activities like hike and spend time with my grandchildren.
When I took this photo within the past 10 days, leaves on our maple were still green. Now they’ve turned yellow and mostly fallen off. That’s the wooded hillside adjoining our property.
We have only one tree, a maple, on our property. But woods abut our yard. And leaves from neighbors’ trees don’t understand boundaries.
Time to put away the tabletop fountain on the patio.
The clock is ticking to complete autumn yard work before the first snowfall. To then stash away the rakes and pull out the snow shovels. And, for Randy, to drain gas from the lawnmower and check the snowblower.
Maple leaves blanket the lawn.
But for now, I want to savor these final days of autumn. To appreciate the colors of autumn leaves clinging stubbornly to branches, to walk across the lawn, leaves crackling underfoot.
The colorful wooded hillside behind our garage. What I most dislike about this scene in winter is that I can see the “tornado trees,” the trees broken by a tornado which went through our city and neighborhood two years ago in September.
For soon enough, winter will overtake the Minnesota landscape, defining our days.
The last of the wildflowers blooming in my backyard.
As we await the arrival of spring and the cycle of seasons continues.
I photographed this eastside Faribault residence covered in toilet paper Saturday morning as part of the TP’ing homecoming tradition. Bethlehem Academy celebrated homecoming last weekend.
But here we are, with the pandemic in full-blown mode all these months later and plenty of toilet paper to go around. Or at least enough that high schoolers here in Faribault continue the homecoming tradition of TP’ing houses and yards. I saw at least six local residences swathed in toilet paper while out and about over the weekend.
That’s a lot of toilet paper. Toilet paper we paid good prices for back in March and April, especially.
Years ago I held the mindset that TP’ing was just plain stupid and a waste of good toilet paper. I still consider it a waste of good toilet paper. But I now consider TP’ing property to be good fun given other less desirable options.
But, I wonder, in a month or two will these kids wish they had the toilet paper rolls they so freely tossed to the wind? Only time will tell…as the pandemic relentlessly continues.
Randy walks with the grandkids at River Bend Nature Center in Faribault on Saturday afternoon.
NOTHING BRINGS ME more joy than time with my grandchildren, Isabelle, 4 ½ and Isaac, 21 months. This past weekend they spent all of Saturday with us, overnight into early Sunday evening so their parents could have some much-needed time alone. Randy and I love having the kids. They are easy-going, fun and just plain happy.
Our living room, kid central this weekend with toys pulled from totes and cupboards.
At their young ages, the siblings are content doing most anything from coloring to “helping” make apple crisp. This visit, Izzy headed straight for her Uncle Caleb’s Brio train set. And Isaac, besides pushing any toy with wheels, loved putting together puzzles. The same ones, over and over. (We think he’s pretty smart.) And this visit, Grandpa’s vinyls spinning on the record player also fascinated him.
We stopped often at River Bend to view the colorful leaves.
But, for me, it was our time outdoors that proved most engaging and memorable. We took the kids to River Bend Nature Center on Saturday afternoon, arriving to a parking lot filled with vehicles, including several school buses. Unbeknownst to us, a cross country meet was taking place. We stayed as far away from that busyness as possible, although a cluster of several teens out for a practice run in the woods veered way too close for comfort. That aside, it was a mostly solo walk for the four of us.
Our grandson, 21 months, runs along a trail at River Bend. Once taken out of the stroller, he never went back. Our walk ended with his sister riding in the stroller.
We started out with Isaac in the stroller given the distance we planned to walk. Part way in, we let him walk, or shall I say, run. Even with legs much longer than his, Randy and I struggled to keep up with our grandson. Occasionally he would stop, though, to examine a leaf or pick up a stick.
That’s the part I appreciate about being with little kids. You see the world through their eyes, at their level, from their inquisitive perspective. And that’s refreshing. There are many stop and smell the roses moments.
The street by the MSAD shows the beautiful fall colors gracing Faribault.
We experienced those at River Bend and again on Sunday when we looped our way around the Minnesota State Academy for the Deaf campus. Izzy zoomed ahead of us on her scooter. And Isaac likewise moved as fast as his legs could carry him. Fast enough for these grandparents.
Randy lifted Isaac for a closer look at these bold berries on a tree at the MSAD.
Occasionally the kids paused to gather pine cones, colorful leaves and berries or to pick petunias (shhh) from a flowerbed. I bagged their nature finds for them to take home.
I hope we are instilling in them an appreciation for the outdoors and for nature. But, more than that, I hope they will remember these times with us—the minutes and hours and days together. Connecting, sharing, learning and loving each other as only grandparents and their grandchildren can. What a joy. What a blessing.
Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo September 2019.
THE STRUGGLE IS REAL.
How well I remember those words printed on the back of her red, white and blue plaid shirt. Uppercase letters all in white.
Given the cultural event I was attending in September 2019, I surmised the message related to immigration issues. But when I asked, the young woman replied that the words referenced struggles with mental health. She battles depression and credited family support for her “doing well right now” status.
How are you? Are you doing well right now? Or are you struggling? You don’t have to answer that publicly. Just think about it.
Today marks World Mental Health Day. I won’t get into the intricacies of the day. Rather, I’d like each of you to think about mental health. Those two words often carry a negative connotation. But they shouldn’t. We all have mental health.
The past months, especially, have been hard on our mental health. We’ve lost so much. Our normalcy. Contacts and connections with family and friends. Toss in financial, health and other worries related to COVID-19, and it can be a lot.
A close-up of the hand on a sculpture, “Waist Deep,” outside the Northfield Public Library. The sculpture addresses the topic of mental health. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo September 2019.
But here’s one thing we need to remember—we are not alone. Not you. Not me. Not that young woman in the plaid shirt. She had her family. Such support can be powerful. As can peer and professional (therapists/psychologists/psychiatrists) support. And support groups like those offered through NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness).
Medication, too, can prove invaluable in maintaining and/or restoring good mental health. Prayer and exercise and time outdoors and much more, including the support of friends, help. (Just note that any threat of suicide needs to be taken seriously and requires immediate professional care.)
“Waist Deep.” Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo September 2019.
If there’s one thing that bugs me, really bugs me, it’s the use of words like “crazy” and “not all there” and other such words and phrases that demean individuals struggling with their mental health. They are not to blame for a disease affecting their brains. We don’t, for example, blame people with cancer for their disease. Why is it any different for someone diagnosed with depression, anxiety, bi-polar, obsessive compulsive disorder, schizophrenia, PTSD…? We need to reframe our thinking, to think with compassion and kindness and understanding rather than with an attitude of, well, why can’t you just get yourself out of bed or stop being so negative or whatever you want to insert here.
You can only imagine how I felt earlier this year (pre COVID-19) when I stopped at a brewery in rural southwestern Minnesota and spotted a man wearing a shirt with a straightjacket image on the back and the name of a nearby brewery printed below. The business graphic and name offended me. Once home, I checked out the brewery website only to find beer names like Hopzophrenia and Citra Insane-O. Really? I find such branding insensitive. One could argue that I don’t have a sense of humor, I suppose. I would respond right back, where is the humor in this?
A sign explains the story behind the “Waist Deep” sculpture. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo September 2019.
Yeah, I’m on a bit of a soapbox here. But, you know, the struggle is real. And the struggle stretches to societal attitudes, to the shortage of mental healthcare professionals, to stigma and discrimination and lack of support for individuals and their families in the throes of mental health challenges.
The wait here in rural Minnesota to see a psychiatrist can stretch into months. Months. That’s unacceptable.
There’s no easy answer to all these issues related to mental health. But we can start with education, discussion and increased awareness, like today’s World Mental Health Day. We can also, as individuals, grow our understanding and compassion. Reach out to a friend or family member who needs our support. Listen. Care. And, mostly, believe that THE STRUGGLE IS REAL.
A portrait I took of my mom during my last in-person visit with her in early March. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo March 2020.
I EXPECTED THIS. Yet, the news that an employee in my mom’s southwestern Minnesota care center has tested positive for COVID-19 hit me hard. I felt my heart race, my blood pressure rise, my worry spike when my daughter alerted me to this development Wednesday afternoon. It took awhile for me to process this and what this might mean.
I’m more settled now with the passage of time and answers from the care center administrator who advised, in a Facebook post, to email her with any concerns or questions. She was prompt and thorough in her reply to my inquiry and for that I am grateful. I feel better if I am informed, rather than guessing or wondering.
I photographed my mom’s hands during that last in-person visit. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo March 2020.
Time and testing will tell if Mom has been exposed to the virus. I am confident the care center is doing the best it can to protect staff and residents. But I also recognize that the best, when it comes to this potentially deadly virus, may not be enough. I am preparing myself mentally.
Simultaneously, my father-in-law is now in in-room quarantine after a resident of his wing in a central Minnesota care center tested positive for COVID.
And our second daughter, who works as a letter carrier in Madison, Wisconsin, texted Wednesday evening that an individual in her office tested positive for the virus. She was not surprised. She has shared often that masking up is about the only safety measure being taken to protect her and other postal employees. Thankfully she was not told she needed to quarantine, meaning she was not exposed to the infected co-worker.
All of this, as you would guess, is stressing me. These cases are getting way too close to people I love.
To those of you in similar situations or who have lost loved ones to COVID, my heart breaks for you. This is hard, just plain hard.
Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo June 2020.
I especially appreciated, as part of her Facebook post, the administrator at my mom’s care center adding this:
“We have kept a close eye on the increase in cases within our county; however, we can only do so much. To help continue to keep our residents safe and allow them to live without all of these restrictions, we ask that our community members please take this virus seriously. Please mask if you are able and social distance from others.”
That’s prudent advice no matter where you live. No place is immune. I continue to see way too many people not wearing masks or wearing them under their noses (which does no good). I hear stories from my husband about co-workers and customers exhibiting the same careless behavior. This frustrates me to no end. Why don’t people care? I just do not understand.
The pottery of Tom Willis, displayed at a past Studio ARTour. He will be among six artists at Studio #7, 10754 Farrel Avenue, Northfield. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.
ART, FOOD, FUN and more food. All will focus events in the Faribault area this weekend. And even though I’m uncertain yet whether I will attend any—because of my COVID-19 comfort level—I want to pass along this community information. These are all worthy events which I’ve attended in past years.
First up is the annual south central Minnesota Studio ARTour, featuring the work of 16 regional artists either in studios or, in Faribault, also at the Paradise Center for the Arts. Some of those studios will be open from 4-8 pm Friday in addition to weekend hours that start at 10 am and continue until 6 pm on Saturday and until 5 pm on Sunday.
The tour is scaled back from previous years, but still includes a variety of artists who paint, shape clay into pottery, practice the Norwegian art of rosemaling, engage in fiber art, design jewelry, create with photography and more. I’ve always appreciated the opportunity to meet these artists, to view their work and where they work.
Promotional info for the tour emphasizes that health and safety come first and that participants—yes, that includes everyone—must wear a mask and that hand sanitizer will be used. Some artists will set up outdoors.
A previous flag ceremony featured national anthems and information about the countries from which Faribault residents have originated. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.
Likewise, the Faribault Diversity Coalition, organizers of the 15th annual International Festival Faribault, promises plenty of safety protocol during the 10 am – 4 pm Saturday fest at Faribault’s Central Park. If you’re comfortable attending, I’d encourage you to do so. It’s a great opportunity to learn more about the diverse people who call Faribault home. The fest is aptly billed as “Neighbor Meeting Neighbor.”
This celebration of our cultural diversity includes a full day of entertainment from Native American, Guatemalan and Aztec dancers to Guatemalan and Hispanic singers and more. Other highlights include a Naturalization Ceremony and a Flag Ceremony, both in the early afternoon.
And there’s more—arts and crafts, kids’ activities, informational booths and food. Let’s not forget the food. Food from around the world. The fest offers a great opportunity to try ethnic foods.
My plate full of food from a past Trinity harvest dinner. Not all foods served are on this plate. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.
Food centers the final local event I want to highlight. That’s the annual Trinity North Morristown Harvest Dinner from 11 am – 1 pm Sunday. I’ve attended this annual church dinner many times and highly-recommend it for the outstanding food. For only $10, you’ll get a meal of turkey, ham and all the trimmings that tastes like it came directly from Grandma’s kitchen.
This year the meal is take-out only with tickets sold on the adjacent Fourth of July picnic grounds and meals then handed out via drive-through on the south side of this rural church. I’ve always enjoyed the dining-in experience of cramming inside the church basement for good food and conversation among this friendly crowd. But, because of COVID, there will be none of that nor will there be a craft or bake sale.
Life goes on, pandemic or not. Just, please, if you attend any of these events, mask up (whether indoors or out), social distance and keep your hands clean. If you’re sick or have COVID symptoms or have been exposed to anyone with COVID or COVID symptoms, stay home.
Posted near the amphitheater at River Bend Nature Center, Faribault, Minnesota.
IN EVERY WALK with nature one receives far more than he seeks—John Muir.
A scene at River Bend, looking from the swamp across the prairie to the distant treeline on Sunday afternoon.
Those words, imprinted upon a memorial plaque at River Bend Nature Center in Faribault, hold a depth of meaning worth pondering. To think that every walk outdoors gives us more than we expect, or search out, seems valid. Especially now, during COVID-19, when many of us are rediscovering the beauty and healing power of the natural world.
Even the drying swamp grasses prove beautiful against the autumn sky.
Are you among the many embracing the outdoors with renewed enthusiasm and appreciation? I certainly am.
This is an example of the many beautiful tree-lined streets in Faribault. I shot this along Second Avenue, with Central Park on the left and The Cathedral of Our Merciful Savior on the right.
To the northeast of Cannon City, we stopped along a back gravel road so I could photograph this distant, colorful hillside across acres of ripening corn.
Northbound along Interstate 35 just north of Faribault, leaves are changing color.
Whether walking at a local park or hiking through a nature center or following a city street or driving along a back country road or even traveling along a busy interstate, I feel a heightened sense of gratitude for the sky, the trees, the land, all that surrounds me.
Wildflowers still bloom at River Bend as autumn wanes.
And as autumn presses on toward winter, I also feel an urgency to get outside. On foot before ice and snow pack trails and I feel less secure in my footing. Maybe this will be the winter I buy metal grippers that clamp onto my boots. Maybe this will be the winter I reclaim my youthful enthusiasm for the season.
A prairie plaque honors a volunteer at River Bend.
Many days I long to get away. Away from traffic and noise and busyness and people to the quiet of woods, the silence of the prairie, the peace that nature offers.
Autumn colors trees at River Bend.
There’s so much turmoil now. Too much hatred. Too much dissent and too much untruth and too much of everything that’s mean and unkind and disrespectful of others. I yearn for a world where we all hold genuine compassion and care for one another.
The hole, the decay, in this tree reminds me in some ways of our country right now.
I’ve never, in my sixty-plus decades on this earth, witnessed such chaos, discord, selfishness…
Like these bold berries pop color into the River Bend landscape, we can pop positivity into the world. We can choose to be bold, to stand for decency and the common good.
I have within me the power to act with decency, with empathy, with understanding. With kindness.
North of Faribault along I-35.
To settle my mind into a frame of peacefulness, I embrace prayer and nature. To do so is to receive more than I seek.
Currently, I am reading The Finnish Way: Finding Courage, Wellness, and Happiness Through the Power of Sisu. A friend, who recently moved to the lakes region of central Minnesota, gifted Katja Pantzar’s book to me. I’m only 58 pages into the read. But already the words written therein about the Finns’ resilience and close connection to nature resonate. In two more chapters, I’ll be into “Nature Therapy, The Benefits of a Walk in the Woods.”
In the woods at River Bend…
I don’t expect the contents of that chapter to surprise me. Whether walking in the woods or through a city park, we can benefit from simply being in nature. To feel the warmth of sunshine, to hear the rush of wind through trees, to watch water tumble over rocks, to smell the scent of autumn…all calm the spirit, restore peace, and lift moods. What a gift.
TELL ME: Are you rediscovering nature during COVID-19? If so, in what ways has this helped you deal with the pandemic? What’s your favorite nature spot?
A cluster of maple leaves in fall colors photographed at Falls Creek County Park, rural Faribault, Minnesota.
AS A LIFE-LONG MINNESOTAN, I remain fully cognizant that the season will soon change to one of cold, colorless and confining.
In the woods at Falls Creek Park, some trees are already stripped of leaves.
Thus, a week like the one predicted with sunny skies and temps in the 60s and possibly 70s, is to be celebrated.
Maple leaves cover the earth, from my backyard to here, at Falls Creek Park.
As I look out my office window mid-Monday morning while writing this post, I see sunshine. Sunshine which casts shadows of leaves swaying in the wind onto my office walls.
Subtle colors color these leaves at Falls Creek.
For today, the wind blows with a fierceness that assures the laundry pinned to my backyard clothesline will dry quickly. I’ve taken extra measures to assure the wash stays clipped to the line. The wind is that strong.
Throughout southern Minnesota, leaves are changing color and falling from trees.
Leaves spiral from the backyard maple at a dizzying rate that makes me melancholy. Soon the branches will be stripped bare, exposed to the sky, a strong visual reminder to me that Autumn is nearing her exit.
Fungi ladder on a fallen tree trunk.
I need to hold onto this season, to embrace and celebrate her for as long as I can because I recognize also that this winter ahead—this winter of COVID-19—will prove particularly challenging. The sense of isolation will be heightened as Randy and I continue to keep our circle small.
And so now, while we can, we spend a lot of time outdoors, walking on trails through woods and along rivers. Like at Falls Creek County Park, about a mile east of Faribault just off Minnesota State Highway 60. The 61-acre park seems mostly undiscovered. We last visited in June, although when the kids were still home, we went there more often to picnic and hike.
An opening in the woods leads to a bridge across Falls Creek.
On a recent weekend, we revisited this peaceful and primarily wooded destination, which includes about 3,000 feet of creek footage. After parking in the over-sized gravel parking lot pocked with potholes, we headed down the hill and across an expansive grassy space toward an opening in the woods.
Water rushes around rocks, like this one, in the creek.
Through that gap, a picturesque bridge crosses Falls Creek. I love that cute little bridge spanning the narrow waterway. There’s something magical and fairy tale like about the arc of that bridge, where I stand and listen to water rush over rocks. Clear water, mostly unseen in this area of southern Minnesota with most waterways polluted by fertilizer run-off.
The creek curves through the woods.
After that creekside pause, Randy and I headed onto the dirt trail into the woods. It runs along the creek bank, in some sections nearly eroded away. In one spot, we walk upon thick sticks laid on the pathway to stabilize the walk way.
Sticks laid on the path to stabilize it in an eroded area.
Randy makes it all the way to the falls, only to find it eroded, too, and not as he remembers. I’ve stopped just short of that destination and turned back to retrace our steps. There are no trails spidering through the woods, only this solo one and another that, for a short distance, veers to our right.
Randy walks on the leaf-covered trail, embraced by the woods.
Yet, we delight in being here. In the woods, even if not particularly colorful. Beside the creek. Just us, until we hear voices in the distance and eventually meet a couple from a neighboring town. They are lovely in every way for not only their appreciation of this place but also of others they’ve met here. That includes a group of young men from Somalia, immigrants who’ve resettled locally and spoke to the couple about past challenges. It was incredibly refreshing for me to hear the couple’s kind words about these young men rather than the unkind words I all too often hear about individuals who’ve fled war-torn countries and atrocities we can’t even imagine for a new life in Minnesota.
The lovely bridge across Falls Creek.
Even though I digress from the nature theme of this post, I feel it important to share this sidebar. There are stories to be heard, lessons to be learned, when we take pause to appreciate, to listen. To cross bridges into the woods.
A grassy trail runs along the prairie at River Bend, leading to the woods.
TYPICALLY, I STICK to paved and grassy trails when hiking at River Bend Nature Center in Faribault. I feel more secure on a firm surface, mostly free of hidden obstacles.
Following the river bottom trail into the woods.
Beautiful maples color the woods.
A view of the Straight River along a trail through River Bend Nature Center.
But, on a recent visit to River Bend, Randy and I followed a dirt trail down a steep hill to the Straight River. I felt apprehensive as we navigated, like mountain goats, down the limestone-pocked hill. He’s always willing to grab my hand, a reassuring act that makes me feel more confident. With two broken bones resulting from falls in my medical history, I hold a heightened awareness of keeping myself safe.
Sumac pop color into the autumn landscape.
Getting creative in the woods with a tipi style structure.
I found myself pausing often to look toward the treetops.
So, as we followed the dirt path covered with leaves and tripping tree roots, I watched my step more than my surroundings. And when you’re a photographer always alert to her environment, this is not ideal. I found myself stopping often to take in the woods and details therein. Randy is also great about alerting me to possible photo subjects. I deeply appreciate that about him, that he values my interest in photography.
Trails are sometimes well-marked, sometimes not.
I may get directionally lost, but I’ve never lost a shoe. I spotted this along a trail.
You don’t see many birch trees in the southern part of Minnesota, so I always delight in spotting one.
He also recognizes that my map-reading skills rate at about zero as does my sense of direction, unless I’m in my native southwestern Minnesota prairie of straight, gridded lines. I rely on him to know where we are going. And sometimes, I’ve found, he fakes that knowledge. That makes me uncomfortable. But we always emerge out of the woods, safe and sound.
Beautiful prairie wildflowers.
Prairie grasses and woods at River Bend.
Goldenrod add an autumnal hue to the landscape.
No visit to River Bend is complete without a walk through the prairie to take in the tall grasses and wildflowers defining that landscape. I need to see wide sky and open land, so much a part of me. Of my history as a daughter of the prairie.
Looking up to the treetops, I see such beauty.
Bold berries burst color on a tree outside the visitor center.
Any day at River Bend is a truly beautiful day as noted on this paver at a look-out patio above the Straight River. Thank you, A, B, C and D for this gift honoring your parents.
Yet, having lived in southeastern Minnesota for nearly 40 years, I’ve grown to appreciate the woods and hills and lakes, mostly absent from the landscape of my youth. Every place, every landscape, possesses a certain beauty, if only we stop in the busyness of life to recognize that. These days, especially, call for each of us to pause and reassess. To consider what we most value. And on my list of faith, family, friends and health, I also add nature.
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