EVERYONE OUGHT TO OCCASIONALLY take a drive into the countryside along back county roads and gravel roads trailing dust. It’s good for the soul, spirit and mind to route into a quiet place defined by fields and farm sites. Away from town. Away from houses clumped together in blocks. Into a wide open place where land and sky meet and space seems infinite.
Randy and I found all of that recently as we drove east of Faribault, passing fields sprouting corn, farm sites nudging the highway. We aimed toward our friend Barb and Bob’s farm, invited there to harvest rhubarb. It’s an annual spring rite for us.
But for me, this is about much more than gathering rhubarb. It’s about enveloping myself in the peacefulness of rural Minnesota. When only the trill of birds, the roar of a tractor and conversation with our friends break the silence, I feel utterly, contentedly at home. I feel grounded and rooted and connected and transported back to the farm of my youth, albeit 120 miles to the west.
I never pull a single stalk of rhubarb from the patch next to the aged clay block smokehouse. While Randy harvests, I roam. With my camera.
First, I pause to take in the rural landscape—fields, trees, gravel road below a clear blue sky. Oh, place of my heart.
Then I head toward the silo towering over the farm site. Many times I climbed the ladder into the silo back on my childhood farm to fork silage and toss it down the chute to feed the cows. It was hard, smelly work. But when you worked on a dairy, livestock and crop farm 60-plus years ago, chores were labor intensive.
From the silo, I turn my focus to the weathered plywood quilt block square displayed on the side of a tin-covered pole shed. The artwork, “Star Shadow,” honors Barb’s passion for quilting. It’s a nice addition to the building. I like barn quilt art, which surged in popularity perhaps a decade or more ago. There are places in Minnesota, like the Caledonia area in Houston County, where you can take a self-guided tour and view 59 barn quilts. For my generation, especially, quilts are part of our family history. Patchwork quilts layered beds, providing warmth on frigid Minnesota winter nights. I cherish remembrances of my paternal grandmother’s quilt tops, quilting frame and the quilts she gifted to me and all of her 40-plus grandchildren.
This visit to Barb and Bob’s farm brings back so many memories. I wander among the apple trees, most blossoms spent, and watch an elusive Monarch butterfly flit among the branches. I can almost taste the sweetness of apple jelly spooned onto buttered toast.
I check in with Randy, who hasn’t called me to help with the rhubarb harvest. He understands the pull I feel to photograph. Via photography, I notice details and that is such a gift. He’s gathered a growing stash of thick green stalks tipped in pink. Rhubarb seems such a humble fruit. Perfect for crisp, sauce or pie.
A tractor roars by then, dust rising around and behind as it pulls an unfamiliar farm implement down the gravel road. A roller, Randy notes later when we pass a packed farm field.
Then quiet settles again. Randy gathers the pile of rhubarb leaves, tidying the area around the old smokehouse.
We head back toward the farmhouse, this time rousing Barb and Bob, who earlier did not hear Randy’s knocks. We settle in for a chat which turns into a lengthy conversation in the shade of trees, near the lilac bush, in their front yard garden. Birds sing. Butterflies fly. Words rise. Cold, filtered well water poured from a fancy pitcher into thick, hefty glasses quenches thirst. The four of us simply enjoy each other’s company. No hurry. Nowhere to be.
I step away to photograph several of Barb’s many birdhouses.
And then the orange farm cat appears. I excuse myself again, to photograph Fred, who requires significant coaxing to come closer. But he is skittish. My camera lens, followed by the click of the shutter scares him away.
I circle back to the conversation circle, passing a bird bath with a trio of ballet dancers centering that circle. They are graceful and beautiful and seemingly out of place in this rural setting. Yet, they are not. The countryside overflows with grace and beauty. The grace of silence and solitude. And the beauty of the natural world.
On this day, I need this. To be in the serenity of this quiet place. To take in the countryside. To see the sky, the trees, the land. To talk with Barb and Bob. And then to leave with a clutch of rhubarb and the promise of warm rhubarb crisp pulled from the oven.
© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
what a wonderful, wonderful trip for so many reasons. your photos and your words, really set the mood. the rhubarb is a bonus, and my favorite pie of all time, is rhubarb strawberry.
You would love the pie the Trinity Piemakers make at my church. They are known in my community for their pies. They’ve funded many projects at my church and school via pie sales.
Lovely post.I especially love Fred.
It was fun to get out with my camera again and be able to do this photo shoot. I figured you would love Fred.
Nothing better than a reset and recharge. Beautiful farm to explore. I miss the MN hello and goodbye that usually lasts for a while with a couple cups of coffee and maybe a sweet treat with the conversation and gathering. Happy Day – ENJOY 🙂
Ah, you know the long Minnesota goodbye well.
It’s good to see you feeling well enough for a photo expedition to the countryside. 😁
I’ve been out with my camera a few times recently. My symptoms come and go so when I tried shooting at the farm and found I could, I went for it. But the other day when we were at a local park, I managed only a few images and walking two blocks before feeling unbalanced and generally not well. That was the end of that photo shoot.
Yesterday I endured (quite difficult due to my auditory hypersensitivity) an MRI. Hopefully that won’t show anything new; meet with the neurologist next week for results. Also have some other appointments tossed in there due to ongoing ear issues. My vestibular rehab therapy continues and I’ve seen improvements. Yeah!
Sounds like a lovely day in the country.
It was, kind of like your time on the farm feeding animals.
Beautiful Audrey!
Thank you. It was good to be out with my camera again, to feel well enough to use it.
So glad to hear that you are nearly back to normal activities.
I’m getting there, Paula. Still some hard work ahead of me. I went outside at physical therapy today, a sort of field trip, to increase my ability to handle sensory input in a less controlled environment (of tweeting birds, trees, traffic, etc). My therapist encouraged me to continue trying to get out there and expose myself to more and then to pull back when necessary.
Wow, sounds like you have it pretty rough. Small steps lead to bigger ones, hang in there.😊
I know you write that from a place of understanding. An update is coming shortly on how I’m doing.
❤️
I have some rhubarb in the fridge that I need to use!
I smell rhubarb crisp baking in your Worthington oven.
So many memories- I grew up on a farm just outside of Evan. Your description of the chores on another post brought back many memories! As a teenager, I couldn’t wait to get away- thought I was missing out somehow, missing something big. Now at 57 years old, I find I miss the peace and quiet of the farm of my childhood; I miss the sound of the leaves on the trees rustling in the breeze, the birds tweeting, and the sound of crickets at night. Big city life does not hold any allure for me anymore.
Debra, I understand your missing country life. We are both children of the prairie. I do miss the sound of the wind and the wide open space and all the things I’m certain you long for now.
Thanks for your spring thoughts and photos.
PS: re a couple days ago. In case you hadn’t seen the news: “The Rice County Solid Waste facility has reopened to the public after being closed for the majority of last week due to a fire at the landfill, even as employees work to minimize the effects of the fire.”
You’re welcome, Ken. I did see that the landfill had reopened. We ended up taking our mattress and box spring to Bridging in Bloomington. They recycle by giving to people in need. Of course, what’s donated must be in acceptable condition and ours was that. We were in the south metro for a medical appointment so it worked well to drive a bit farther and drop everything off at NO COST.
Boy, do I relate to getting outside and feeling the power of being there in the midst of plants and animals whatever they may be. When I am sad about anything, my own garden gives me similar respite from whatever is going on. It is different, though, when we have a chance to be away from the city where, as you put it, land and sky meet. This makes me realize I’m overdue. I did go outside this morning, though, camera in hand, to photograph poppies. Made me happy. Glad you got a chance to photograph around your friends’ farm. Enjoy that rhubarb.
I know how much you appreciate the outdoors, especially your garden. Getting outside uplifts, calms and so much more.
Rhubarb!! That reminds me so much of my mother. After my dad was unable to take care of his yard and animals, they sold their home, and purchased a mobile home. When they moved, my mother broke off twigs from her many things that were growing in her yard. She would stick these items in her small plot of land, and behold they would grow! She had purchased some rhubarb to make a pie. She stuck one of the stalks in her garden, and it grew! She had more pie from a stalk. I had a rose bush, a grape vine, and other items in my yard that she planted for me, without any roots. She had such a touch, and I always felt that she was touched by God.
Your mother sounds like she was born to garden. Thank you for sharing these stories, Norma. And thank you also for the beautiful get well card and note.
So many senses heightened by reading of your rhubarb adventure. And my mouth is watering with the mere mention of rhubarb!
I know what you mean. Just thinking of rhubarb crisp is enough to want some.