WITH TREES MOSTLY STRIPPED of leaves, a visible shift in seasons has begun. But look closer, beyond the trees, and even more signs of a transition toward winter appear.
I’ve found the much-beloved River Bend Nature Center in Faribault an ideal landscape in which to hike, observe and photograph the nuances of seasons.
So on a recent unseasonably warm Sunday afternoon, my husband, Randy, and I hiked on the north end of River Bend, first to the overlook providing a sweeping view of the land below. And then we returned to the woods before aiming through swampland toward the prairie.
All along our route, I paused, photographed and appreciated.
Beauty, for me, is not splashy, but rather subtle. A dried seed pod. The rusty hue of sumac clumps. Red leaves twined to twigs.
In the distance, leaves still clung to a few trees in a stubborn refusal to let go of autumn.
The wind blew fierce on this first day of November, making photography a challenge at times. Yet it was the wind which made for the best part of the hike—the dance of the tall grasses. I’ve always been captivated by the way the wind gracefully bends grass stems. It’s poetic and lovely and mesmerizing.
I stood next to the towering swamp grasses—as high as 10 feet—for a while, studying the angle of the sun edging toward sunset, watching the slender, grain-heavy stems bend, bow, lean into one another.
And then I headed up hill to the prairie, low gray clouds sweeping the sky, a hint of blue remaining. I thought of Willa Cather who wrote of the prairie. And Laura Ingalls Wilder who lived on, and also wrote of, the prairie. And my own prairie upbringing which influences my work as a creative.
Much beauty exists here beyond a first glimpse. A puff-tipped cattail. Fungi laddering a tree trunk. A stone found on a trail.
On this balmy, for November in Minnesota, afternoon, hikers and bikers migrated to River Bend, some alone, others in pairs, some with their dogs. All were enjoying a day that felt like a fond farewell from autumn. The wind and warmth kissed us as we embraced this loveliest of lingering autumnal days.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
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