Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Exploring Minnesota at the MSAD Scarecrow Fest October 18, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 11:31 AM
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A sign welcomes visitors to the Scarecrow Fest at the Minnesota State Academy for the Deaf in Faribault.

 

EVERY YEAR IN FOREVER, my family has crossed the viaduct to Faribault’s east side to view the scarecrows at the Minnesota State Academy for the Deaf. Autumn would not be autumn without this annual tour.

Years ago we loaded up the kids. Today it’s just me and my husband. But we still get the same kick out of seeing exactly what MSAD students, Faribault High School American Sign Language students, families and others have created for the October Scarecrow Fest.

This year, undoubtedly, has been my favorite with scarecrow scenes themed around Minnesota’s great outdoors. The displays are completely family-friendly—nothing scary or macabre or remotely frightening.

I suppose, though, that the sizes of the mosquitoes could frighten non-Minnesotans. But, shhhhhh, we’ll just let them think that our “state bird” grows as big as a bird and that we really do need Paul Bunyan-sized cans of OFF mosquito repellent.

 

 

With mosquitoes this big...

 

 

...swarming and droning...

 

 

...you really do need a mega can of bug repellent.

 

And, yes, Paul Bunyan was depicted in two of the creations. Unfortunately, in one case, Babe the Blue Ox, Paul’s side-kick, had toppled in the wind. But my husband set him upright for a photo op before Babe tumbled back to earth—at the mercy of Paul’s axe, noted a little girl who was touring the fest grounds.

Then I had to add, in a garish Halloween comment, that Paul was making Babe into steak. So much for keeping this family-friendly…

 

 

This Babe the Blue Ox had toppled in the wind, but he stood briefly for this photo.

 

 

This second Babe the Blue Ox sculpture stood his ground in the elements.

 

Honestly, I had to admire the ingenuity of the contestants with gourds transformed into fish and mosquitoes, a loon with a sock head and a pumpkin painted red to represent the cherry on Spoonbridge and Cherry at the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden.

 

 

MSAD's version of the cherry and spoon sculpture.

 

 

One of my favorite entries, this sockhead loon.

 

Unfortunately Split Rock Lighthouse had fallen by the time we arrived for our tour. Typically the weather takes a toll on this wind-swept campus.

But, for the most part, these exhibits need to be durable, durability being one of the criteria considered by judges evaluating the vignettes. They also look at use of materials, overall appearance and creativity.

I bet the judges had a tough time this year deciding who should win. The entries were that good. Of course, why wouldn’t they be? With an “Explore Minnesota” theme, competitors had a whole wide state of 10,000 lakes and loons and land to create a scarecrow scene of this place we Minnesotans love, despite our over-sized “state bird.”

 

 

Pumpkins were painted to resemble animals in the Como Zoo entry.

 

 

Detail. Detail. Even the name on this mock tombstone reflects Minnesota.

 

 

As you might expect, with an "Explore Minnesota" theme, many of the 17 Scarecrow Fest scenes included boats.

 

FYI: You have only a few hours to view the scarecrows, if any remain on the MSAD campus. They will be gone by 3 p.m. today.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A trip to view the fall colors detours in Zumbro Falls October 11, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 4:05 PM
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DEAR READERS:

On Sunday afternoon my husband and I headed east on Minnesota Highway 60 to enjoy the fall colors. We intended to drive to Wabasha, then aim north toward Lake City and maybe Red Wing before returning home to Faribault.

Along the way, we stopped at Holden Lutheran Church near Kenyon so I could snap a few photos. We both appreciate old churches and would have lingered longer except the pastor was in the middle of his sermon and we didn’t want to enter the sanctuary and interrupt.

 

 

The Rev. Bernt Julius Muus, the founder of St. Olaf College in Northfield, was a pastor at Holden Lutheran Church near Kenyon. The congregation was organized in 1856 and this church was built in 1924.

 

From there, we drove to Zumbrota for a picnic lunch at the historic covered bridge.

 

 

The covered bridge in Zumbrota dates to 1869 and is promoted in Zumbrota as the only covered bridge in Minnesota. However, I am aware of another covered bridge, that one in Mantorville.

 

Then we resumed our Sunday afternoon drive, traveling briefly on U.S. Highway 52 before exiting onto Highway 60.

After passing through the town of Mazeppa, we reached Zumbro Falls, a community of less than 200 that was, just 2 ½ weeks ago, ravaged by the floodwaters of the Zumbro River.

We pulled our car a block off main street and parked. I grabbed my camera and notebook. And that was the beginning of the end of our planned afternoon to view the fall colors. Instead, we viewed homes and businesses extensively damaged by the flood. And we spoke to some of the people of Zumbro Falls before driving about five miles further to Hammond.

I am sharing their stories in a series of posts that I hope will help you better understand the devastation from a personal perspective. I could have spent many more hours talking to flood victims. I could have dug deeper. I could have taken more photos.

But I think my stories are emotional enough, deep enough, to convey the frustration, the anger, the resilience, the gratefulness of a community that is suffering.

Typically, I would publish these posts over a several-day span. However, these stories need to be told now. Not tomorrow. Not the day after. But today.

So, please, take time to walk with me through portions of Zumbro Falls and Hammond, where you’ll meet Tracy and Jackie and Susie and Katie. They are strong, opinionated women. I have no doubt they will overcome this present obstacle in their lives.

Yet, even though they are tough as nails, they still need our help, our prayers, our support.

Of all the questions I asked of them, I failed to ask the most important: “Is there anything I can do for you?”

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PLEASE WATCH FOR these posts as I begin publishing them this afternoon. If you have thoughts to share, share them.

Although my Sunday afternoon did not go as I envisioned, I am thankful for the detour from the planned route. My eyes and heart were opened. I saw destruction and beauty—that beauty being the irrepressible strength of the human spirit.

 

 

Beautiful fall colors provided the backdrop for this pile of destroyed appliances and other debris in Hammond.

 

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Kids in costume on Central

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:34 AM
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Costumed kids and their families walk down Central Avenue in Faribault.

 

THEY WERE, OH, so cute. What else can you say about kids—from babes to elementary-aged—dressed in costumes for a parade through downtown Faribault during Saturday’s Fall Festival?

You can only smile, as big and sunny as the autumn day that was absolutely, undeniably, gorgeous.

Singly or hand-in-hand they walked, or danced, or rode on dad’s shoulders, or slept in a stroller as they paraded down Central Avenue.

Fairy-princesses. Two Dorothys. A contingent of scarecrows and a lion, but no tin man (that I noticed). A pasty-faced skeleton. Kids role-playing, the center of attention for several blocks on the main street of a Midwestern town on a Saturday morning.

And then afterward, they scrambled for treasure in hay, stroked paint upon pumpkins and drew chalk art on pavement.

All the while parents and grandparents smiled and snapped photos on a stunning day that was more summer-like than autumn for the kids in costume on Central.

 

 

The wings of a little princess on parade.

 

 

Dragon rides.

 

 

A slumbering babe and doll, ride through the parade.

 

 

Winged princesses were by far the most popular characters.

 

 

Fifteen-month-old Erin dressed as a lion.

 

 

The ruby red slippers of one of two Dorothys.

 

 

Princess Isabella, 5, paints a pumpkin.

 

 

Faribault High School freshman Sagal of the Students Together Offering Peer Support, paints a heart on the face of Ariah, 4, in the kids' activities area on Central Avenue..

 

 

Kelsie, 3, paints a pumpkin after the costume parade.

 

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Autumn splendor in my Minnesota backyard October 10, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 10:20 AM
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LATELY I’VE BEEN so focused on driving somewhere to view the fall colors that I’ve failed to notice the autumn splendor in my backyard.

But when Arkansas relatives stopped the other day and remarked on the brilliant foliage, I paused to look. They were right.

My neighbor’s maples are ablaze in eye-popping orange and golden hues dappled with green.

And behind my house, the single maple is transitioning from green to yellow.

Curling leaves already carpet the lawn.

When I stepped outside early Thursday morning to hang laundry on the clothesline, I paused, basket in hand, and stared at the cobalt blue sky. Only in autumn do you see a sky so profoundly, deeply, purely blue.

I set the basket down on the steps. The wet clothes could wait a minute or ten. I rushed inside, grabbed my camera and aimed toward the sky, the trees, then toward the ground to those fallen leaves…

over to the petunias

and the hydrangea

and the mums.

God’s creation, in glorious splendor, awaited me. And on this day, I chose to see the beauty He had given to me, right in my backyard.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Seventeen soups on a Saturday October 9, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 9:30 AM
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Crockpots full of homemade soups line the table at my sister and her husband's annual October soup party.

 

EVERY YEAR for the past seven, my sister, Lanae, and her husband Dale have hosted an October soup party.

Friends and family and neighbors come bearing crockpots brimming with homemade soups—like French onion, oyster, wild rice, chicken noodle, potato—and the wildcard chilies.

Weeks before the Saturday evening event, we inform Lanae of the soup we’re bringing and she approves the selection. She doesn’t want duplicates.

Then on the appointed date, which this year came in early October rather than the typical Halloween time-frame of previous parties, we simmer our soups and, around 5:30 p.m., arrive at her Waseca home.

In the backyard, Dale already has a campfire blazing.

We place our containers of soup on banquet tables set up in the garage and plug the crocks into outlet strips. An extension cord snakes to the next-door neighbor’s house so there are no blown circuits.

Soon the tables, decked in festive Halloween décor, are crammed with crocks of tantalizing soups. Labels and ladles—the ones guests are required to bring—are propped next to pots.

 

 

The soups included Norwegian Fruit, brought by my Aunt Marilyn, who is proud of her Norwegian heritage.

 

At the other end of the table, brownies and cupcakes and a pumpkin-shaped cake, bloody finger shortbread cookies (made every year by my young nieces) and a gallon container of cheese balls (also a tradition) quickly fill table space.

 

 

My niece Tara, who has a talent for cake decorating, created these festive cupcakes.

 

But Lanae always reserves room for Julie’s bread. Next-door neighbors Julie and Brian arrive shortly before meal-time with baskets of piping hot homemade breads, the perfect, expected, accompaniment to all those soups.

 

 

Neighbors Brian and Julie always bring baskets of fresh homemade breads.

 

At 6 p.m., my sister picks up a vintage tray and bangs a spoon against the metal. She offers instructions to soup party newbies: “Take three or four bowls and put a little soup in each so you can try all the soups.”

 

 

Lanae sets out stacks of vintage metal trays for her soup party. The cheese balls in the orange tub are a must-have every year.

 

 

Some of the soup selections on a diner's tray.

 

 

Party guests line up to ladle up the homemade soups.

 

On this Saturday evening, 17 soups are available. I try most and, if I had to vote for my favorite, it would be the Greek Chicken and Lemon Soup with Orzo. First, the exotic name impresses me and then the tangy lemon paired with chicken pleases my taste buds. I also especially like the Wild Rice and the Reuben Spaetzle, of which I get the last scrape-the-bottom of the crock ladleful.

 

 

Sisters Becca, left, and Amber, right, sample soups with their cousin Whitney..

 

As we sit around card tables or banquet tables inside the garage or on the driveway, sampling the soups, sipping wine or beer or pop or water, snuggled in sweatshirts in the briskness of an early October evening which should be warmer, I am content.

This soup party is the ideal way to welcome autumn in Minnesota. Good food. Good conversation with family and friends.

Kids running carefree in the yard after dark with glow lights.

 

 

Four-year-old Kegan plays football with his dad before supper.

 

Wood crackling and flaming in the backyard bonfire.

Seventeen soups on a Saturday. Can October get any better than this?

 

 

More of those incredible soups.

 

FYI: HERE ARE THE SOUP OFFERINGS from Lanae and Dale’s seventh annual soup party, attended by 44: White Chili, Cheesy Chicken Wild Rice, Rueben Spaetzle, Oyster Lentil, Barley Vegetable, Greek Chicken & Lemon Soup with Orzo, Cauliflower/broccoli, Cheesy Chicken Chowder, Wild Rice, Gunflint Chili, Red Chili, Italian Meatball Veggie, Roast Pepper, Norwegian Fruit, Chicken Noodle, Split Pea and French Onion.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Exploring the Kasota Prairie on an October afternoon October 7, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:53 AM
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A rock juts into the Kasota Prairie.

 

I CAN HEAR, in the distance, the steady thrum of traffic, presumably from U.S. Highway 169 or perhaps from nearby Minnesota Highway 22. I’m uncertain because I’ve never been here before and I haven’t consulted a map to pinpoint my location.

If not for the endless drone, I could be standing in the middle of a remote South Dakota or western Minnesota prairie.

But I am in south central Minnesota, at the Kasota Prairie, on a 90-acre remnant of the prairie land which comprised one-third of our state before 1850. Here native prairie grasses remain and grazed lands have been restored.

 

 

A view from the parking lot with a stone wall framing the prairie.

 

On a Friday afternoon, my husband and I discover this scenic spot in the Minnesota River valley two miles from Kasota. Because I favor the sweeping, wide open spaces of the prairie, the place of my roots, to the cramped confines of wooded land, I am comfortably at home here.

Prairie meets sky at Kasota. Stems of grasses dried to the muted earthen shades of autumn sway in the wind, mingling with the wildflowers and the berries I can’t always identify.

Occasionally a block of ancient rock juts through the soil, breaking the vista of plant life.

 

 

Water, rock, sky and prairie meld in this scenic Kasota Prairie landscape.

 

I pause often along the walking trails, even stray from the trampled paths, to examine the mottled stone, to admire a lone, rock-encircled barren tree atop a hill, to identify the red berries of wild roses, to study a clutch of feathers left by a predator, to take in the distant hillside of trees tinted in autumn colors.

 

 

My favorite image from the Kasota Prairie, a barren tree encircled in rock.

 

 

 

Wild rose berries on the Kasota Prairie.

 

 

Trees on a distant hillside change colors under October skies.

 

There is so much to appreciate here. Wind. The sky, quickly changing from azure blue wisped with white to the angry gray clouds of a cold front. Land, rolling out before me, unbroken except for sporadic pockets of water, the occasional tree or cluster of trees and those rocks, those hard, ancient rocks that interrupt this land, this Kasota Prairie.

 

 

A sign marks the Kasota Prairie entrance.

 

 

To truly appreciate the prairie, notice the details, like the berries growing among the grasses.

 

 

A narrow path runs along the barbed wire fence border line of the prairie.

 

FYI: To find the Kasota Prairie, take Le Sueur County Road 21 one mile south of Kasota. Then turn west onto township road 140 and go one mile.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling