A HILLSIDE ABLAZE in color appears before us as our van descends Rice County Road 30 northwest of Nerstrand. The road curves, twists into the valley between farmland and farm sites until we reach our destination, Valley Grove churches.
Randy steers the van off the paved road onto the gravel driveway leading to these two historic Norwegian immigrant churches standing high atop a hill overlooking the rolling countryside. This secluded place rates as a favorite destination of ours any time of year, but especially in autumn.
The hilltop location offers a sweeping view of the surrounding land, including the Big Woods, especially colorful now. I simply cannot get enough of the red, orange and yellow tree lines that provide a painterly backdrop to this bucolic setting.
Here the 1862 and 1894 churches rise, a testament to the faith and endurance of the Norwegian immigrants who settled this area. The topography likely reminded them of the homeland they left for new opportunities in America.
On this day, as the wind blows cold and strong across the churchyard—so much so that we eat our picnic lunch inside the van—I ponder how these foreigners felt once winter arrived in all her cold and snowy starkness. Perhaps they wondered why they ever left Norway.
But on this fall day, I recognize also how much they must have appreciated this beautiful hilltop location. The Valley Grove Preservation Society works hard to retain the natural beauty of these 50 acres of land. The trees. The tall prairie grasses. The wildflowers. They also maintain the two aged houses of worship—the old stone church built first and the adjacent wood-frame church constructed 32 years later.
Beyond the churches and surrounding cemetery, we follow an uneven path into the prairie, pausing occasionally to take in the colorful, distant trees. Randy steps atop a limestone slab for a better view. I spot a garter snake a step down from his feet, then edge away, not at all fond of snakes.
Turning back toward the churchyard a bit later, I see the churches rise like ships upon an ocean of prairie grass. It’s not hard to visualize Norwegian immigrants boarding ships, sailing across the massive ocean bound for America.
The hopes and dreams they carried to America and eventually to Minnesota imprint upon tombstones in names and dates and words. Their hopes imprint, too, upon this land.
When I walk this ground, I feel the imprints of souls beneath my feet. This place seems sacred. Sacred in the voices I hear if I lean into the wind and listen. Sacred in the vistas I view.
Valley Grove is a place of serenity. Of quiet. Of natural beauty unequal in the autumn of the year.
All of this I find, feel, experience, see on an autumn day at Valley Grove, among the rolling hills and valleys of northeastern Rice County.
© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Protesting in Minnesota October 19, 2025
Tags: America, commentary, democracy, First Amendment rights, freedom, Minnesota, NO KINGS protest, Northfield, peaceful protest, rally
I AM AN AMERICAN, a Minnesotan, a resident of Rice County and the city of Faribault. I am a writer, photographer, blogger, poet. I am a wife, mother, grandmother. And I am also a protester.
On Saturday I joined millions across the country and world participating in NO KINGS rallies in my fourth protest since June 14. I care about America. I love America. But I don’t like what’s happening here under the Trump administration, which is eroding our democracy and taking, or attempting to take, away our rights, freedoms and, oh, so much more by authoritarian rule, force, threats, retribution, control, manipulation…
I refuse to remain silent at a time such as this. So I exercised my rights to free speech and freedom of peaceful assembly under the First Amendment to the Constitution by participating in a protest in neighboring Northfield along with a thousand or more others. We packed Ames Park along the Cannon River and lined the east side of Minnesota State Highway 3 for a block to listen to speakers, to share our concerns, to hold protest signs high, to hear plans of action, to sing and pray and reflect, and to engage in conversation.
At times throughout the 1 ½-hour event, I protested next to a Vietnam War veteran, a mechanic, a retired professor of Spanish and Latin American literature (also a poet), a retired college office employee, a retired engineer, a retired elementary school teacher… I also mingled among countless others there for the same reason—to protest. To express our concerns about healthcare, education, the economy, immigration, due process, freedom of speech, a free press, free and fair elections, government funding cuts, the presence of military in our cities, the balance of power, the judiciary, the overreach of power, clean energy… The list goes on and on.
I saw a baby strapped to his/her mom. Kids on shoulders. Kids with signs. Young people of high school age and early adulthood. Those in their middle years. Those in their sixties, like me. And those even older, some probably pushing ninety. The turn-out for this protest was even bigger and more diverse age-wise than the one in June in Northfield on the date Minnesota House Speaker Emerita Melissa Hortman and her husband, Doug, were assassinated.
To be among this group of peacefully protesting concerned Americans during the NO KINGS rally felt empowering. Uplifting. We were unified in our movement, even as one speaker pointed out that we may not agree on everything. Another termed what’s unfolding in America today as not “normal.” It is not, and should not be, normal. Ever.
Support from motorists passing by was overwhelmingly positive with honking horns and waves. Of course, we got a few middle fingers and intentionally roaring, racing vehicles. Only once did I feel unsafe—when a car sped by at a dangerously high speed, the driver clearly attempting to antagonize and threaten us. That was the only overt hatred I witnessed.
Those of us peacefully gathered did not, as some Republican politicians adamantly and wrongly stated, come because we hate America. Far from it. We love America. That was clear in the peaceful tone of the event, in American flags waving, in recitation of the Pledge of Allegiance, in singing of the national anthem, in signage, in our desire to uphold the Constitution, in our genuinely deep concern about the state of our country under President Donald Trump. In our voices rising. Loud. And free.
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© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling