WITH WINTER OFFICIALLY LAUNCHED, it’s easy enough to stay home, settle in, curl up with a good book and avoid the ice, cold and snow that define Minnesota weather in January. When winter burrows in, I’m more inclined to hibernate. But I push myself to get out. It’s good for my physical, mental and emotional health.
Faribault offers plenty of options for aging Baby Boomers like me and others who simply want to take a walk. On the worst of winter days, I can loop around the soccer field at Shattuck-St. Mary’s School, which opens its dome to the public most weekday mornings (except holidays) from November into early spring. Hours vary, but generally run from around six-ish to 9:30 am.
And when I want to be outdoors, the city’s paved recreational trails are usually cleared, allowing me to safely immerse myself in nature. There’s something about walking outdoors at a brisk pace on a cold winter day that invigorates.
Sometimes, though, I opt to carry my camera and focus on the environment rather than upping my heart rate. Photography improves my well-being, too, because I begin to notice nature’s details in a mostly monochrome landscape. Winter’s beauty emerges. And that is good for my spirit, my soul, my creativity.
I especially delight in following the Straight River Trail because water, whether frozen or flowing free, mesmerizes me. I think humans have always been drawn to water. Near Fleckenstein Bluffs Park, the Straight River curves, winding through the woods, under the railroad bridge, along the bluffs.
On a recent afternoon along the trail, with Canon camera in hand, I spotted a flash of red across the river in the woods. From a distance and through the trees, I couldn’t clearly distinguish details. But I knew this was a temporary shelter for someone without a permanent home. I saw a person shoveling snow.
And I thought of my poem, “Misunderstood,” inspired by a previous walk along the Straight River Trail. That poem published in 2024 in Talking Stick 33, Earth Signs, a Minnesota literary anthology:
Misunderstood
Tents cluster along the Straight River,
home to the homeless on land
once held by the Wahpekute.
History and hardship merge here
in long-ago and present-day stories.
Bison skin tipis and nylon tents.
Different times. Different peoples.
Drawn to the water, the sheltering woods.
Misunderstood then. Misunderstood now.
Getting outdoors feeds my creativity. If not for that walk and my knowledge of Faribault history, I would not have crafted that poem about the Dakota and those experiencing homelessness today in my community. I observe, photograph, write, creating photos and stories that need to be shared.
© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Good for you for pushing yourself to get out. I often have to do the same, no matter how sunny is outside.
Blessings!
It does take extra effort in winter. I walked this afternoon, but slipped on several patches of ice, nearly falling. Thankfully my husband was beside me and I was able to grab his arm. Gotta be careful. That’s my mantra in the winter.
Audrey, an even more powerful post given the day’s events. There are no words that can express the horror and gravity of those events,and the harm caused by such callouses and hate. I hope you have support this evening.
Michael, thank you for your kind words extended to me and my fellow Minnesotans. Please see the blog post I just published. I actually wrote it this morning and had it in draft to publish Thursday morning. But then, after learning at noon about the ICE shooting, I added a note and pressed “publish” around 7:45 pm Wednesday.