TO WALK INTO THE WOODS, any woods, but especially the Big Woods, calms the spirit in a measured way that feels poetically soothing.
Surrounded by trees stretching high, the wind winging through the woods, Randy and I hiked at nearby Nerstrand Big Woods State Park on a recent autumn morning. We left behind work, worry and chores as we aimed northeast of Faribault to this popular fall color destination. We arrived early enough in the day to mostly avoid other leaf peepers. The park can get crowded this time of year.
Changing colors draw visitors to this remaining remnant of the Big Woods. Those woods once stretched from western Wisconsin into south central Minnesota, covering some two million acres of land in this part of Minnesota. Nearly all of that long ago hardwood forest is now farmland with a few exceptions like the Big Woods outside the community of Nerstand, population around 280.
That those before us had the foresight to preserve this forest with the establishment of Nerstrand Big Woods State Park by the Minnesota state legislature in 1945 is a testament to its value. This parcel of woods is truly a natural haven here in Rice County, drawing appreciative nature lovers from all over to see the rare Dwarf Trout Lily and other wildflowers in the spring and colorful trees in autumn.
My first introduction to the Big Woods came as a child when an elementary school teacher read Laura Ingalls Wilder’s books, including Little House in the Big Woods, to me and my classmates I listened with full attention to the stories of young Laura, born in the Big Woods of Pepin, Wisconsin. As a child of the prairie, the idea of “woods” was unfamiliar to me. But Wilder’s writing proved so descriptive that I could imagine myself there in the thick of all those trees.
Today I don’t have to imagine. I can walk among those trees in the state park outside Nerstrand only a 20-minute drive from my home. Upon our recent arrival at the park, Randy and I headed straight for the half-mile trail leading to Hidden Falls. Deep in the woods, Prairie Creek spills over a limestone and shale shelf forming the falls.
It’s a bit of a challenge to get to and from the falls. I felt like I was always watching my feet, assuring I wouldn’t trip over a root or uneven ground or, on the many uneven wooden steps, misstep and fall. I realize my vision issues contribute to my cautionary approach. Randy sometimes lent a steady hand. I managed and made it all the way down the hill to the waterfall. Climbing back up the hill, as you would expect, was harder, but not difficult.
Because of recent dry weather and resulting low creek water level, the falls wasn’t exactly gushing water. Still, it was worth seeing. And hearing. Even minimal water, when it cascades over rock, roars.
But mostly, unless you choose to talk, the woods are quiet. Still. Calm. Cocooning. Sheltering.
Our pace was not keep-your-heart-rate-up fast. We were here to immerse ourselves in the woods. To notice the details that comprise the whole. I paused often to photograph orange, red and yellow leaves. I bent low to the ground at times, other times aimed my camera lens upward to the tree canopy.
I noticed birds flitting among trees, the last of the season’s flowers, dried goldenrod, bright red wild rose hips, fungi on a fallen tree…
And I heard a young mother tell her children to listen for the wind in the woods. These woods—the Big Woods of south central Minnesota.
© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
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