HERE IN SOUTHERN MINNESOTA, the greening of the land indicates the beginning of spring’s full-on arrival.
April showers, more like recent deluges of rain, and warmer temperatures have reawakened the earth. Once dormant brown grass now colors lawns greens.
Buds tip tree branches and bushes, promising canopies of leaves and masses of flowers. I’m waiting for the lilacs to bloom in early May, their heady scent a gift to all of us upon winter’s departure.
Crocuses, daffodils and other spring flowers burst through the soil, opening to the sun in a visual splash of color. A jubilant and celebratory scene that shouts happiness.
Down by the river, geese and ducks share company, prepare for nesting and the arrival of little ones. I wait each spring for the goslings and ducklings. They fill my spirit with the promise of new beginnings. Hope in a world desperately in need of hope.
Along water’s edge, I simply stand and observe. Waves rippling, wings rising, water flowing under a gray April sky.
The day feels unsettled in its unseasonable warmth and humidity as I follow a paved path in Faribault’s North Alexander Park. Past the Cannon River, through the trees, then back to the river, I walk with my husband.
We pause to look at several newly-planted trees, including a True North Kentucky Coffeetree, developed, I later learn, through the University of Minnesota woody landscape breeding program. We both wondered about the viability of a coffee tree growing in this northern climate.
Hours later, the rain comes. And then the hail. First small, then some larger hailstones, pelt the lawn, the patio, the driveway, the street, the old rusty van. The house. Stones hit the aluminum awning over the back door with an unnerving shot-like bang. Randy and I stand and watch, moving from window to window, hoping the hail doesn’t damage our roof.
Afterwards I head outside to gather a few hailstones in baggies for freezing and measuring. We have yet to inspect for damage. The day after, out-of-town roofing companies are descending on Faribault like birds returning in the spring. There is no birdsong, though, only a circling around.
With spring comes the greening of grass, the blooming of flowers, the budding of trees, the gathering of waterfowl and the occasional severe storm that moves across the land. Unwelcome, but not unexpected in this season of change.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
from Audubon: “Yep, it’s actually called a Canada, not a Canadian, Goose”
<https://www.audubon.org/magazine/10-fun-facts-about-canada-goose>
Thanks, Ken, for sharing that bit of corrective info. I will try to remember, but likely won’t. They will always be “Canadian” geese to me. 🙂
We have had thunder but no severe storms yet. I hope the damage to your home and community was not substantial. That first photograph with the ominous sky reminds me of growing up in rural central Illinois, Skies like that insisted one take notice and prepare.
The first pink sky image is simply a lovely sunset sky, nothing threatening at all.
Lots of damage to homes and vehicles from the hailstorm. Thankfully, we don’t see any damage to our roof, although I’m sure the roofing guys would find some. Other areas in and outside of Faribault, the hail was bigger and more prolific. I saw photos where the hail looked like snow layering the landscape. My neighbor’s car got some dents. Our old rusty van did not. Randy said the metal on older vehicles is thicker than on newer models. All in all, we personally made it through this storm seemingly unscathed. Others certainly did not. The roofers will be busy.
I love these signs of spring and I’m so surprised about the coffee tree! wow, the hail! we had a pretty bad storm last night as well and I’ll probably post it tomorrow. in the meantime, I’d say to hang on to that hail in the freezer to show your grandchildren!
I’m sorry your area got bad storms also. Yes, I’ll save that hail to show the grandkids.
I’m glad you made it through with little damage!
Thank you. Me, too. 🙂