Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

In loving memory of my farmer dad April 3, 2013

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The barn where I labored alongside my father while growing up on the southwestern Minnesota prairie. File photo.

The barn where I labored alongside my father while growing up on the southwestern Minnesota prairie. File photo.

CALL ME THE BARD of barns, if you will, for barns have inspired me to pen poetic words and to compose poetic photos.

There is something about a barn rising strong and majestic or sagging with the burden of age that moves me. I am reminded of my childhood years toiling in the barn—scraping manure, wheeling ground corn in the wheelbarrow, forking silage.

Cats clumped in corners. Buckle overshoes slapping against cement. WCCO booming “Point of Law.”

Fly specks. Pink baby mice. Long sandpaper cow tongues.

The milkhouse, attached to family barn. File photo.

The abandoned milkhouse, attached to family barn. File photo.

Stuck drinking cups overflowing. Twine on bales. Pails of frothy milk.

Cracked, chapped bleeding hands slimed with Cornhuskers lotion.

Footsteps of my father. Time with Dad. Gone 10 years ago today.

A snippet of the land my father farmed, my middle brother after him. The land and farm site are now rented out.

A snippet of the land my father farmed, my middle brother after him. The land and farm site are now rented out.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The Poetry Barn March 3, 2013

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OFFICIALLY, IT’S CALLED Stoney End Music Barn.

But I call it The Poetry Barn.

Stoney End Music Barn, 920 State Highway 19, Red Wing, Minnesota

Stoney End Music Barn, 920 State Highway 19, Red Wing, Minnesota

Tucked into a wooded hillside just west of Red Wing, an aged sprawling barn draws the attention of travelers on Minnesota Highway 19. If not for the words, this barn might go unnoticed, blending into the rural landscape.

But there the barn stands, block print letters painted upon peeling paint.

Perhaps passersby ponder the poetry posted. Perhaps not.

I have photographed the barn on a sunny Saturday in March, just another person passing by en route to and from the Mississippi River town of Red Wing. Like so many others, I am in a hurry with no time to pause and explore this roadside attraction.

I have missed so much. Stoney End Music Barn, I later learn, houses a team of musicians who craft primarily harps—having made more than 7,000 since 1984.

The renovated barn is also home to the Hobgoblin Music Store and a third floor music loft/concert hall.

So you see, Stoney End Music Barn truly is a poetry barn, for music is poetry.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Two delicious Minnesota food events & that Wisconsin barn October 12, 2012

Diners dish up at last year’s fall dinner at Trinity Lutheran Church, North Morristown.

IN RECENT YEARS I’VE become an enthusiastic church dinner foodie.

And this Sunday, October 14, my favorite of all church dinners will be served at Trinity Lutheran Church, North Morristown, in western Rice County.

Let me tell you, these parishioners can cook. You’ll get real homecooked food from potatoes that have been peeled and mashed to garden grown squash to fresh-baked bread to ham that’s not pressed.

This is the meal you’ll get at Trinity Lutheran Church, North Morristown’s, fall dinner and more. Delicious.

The full menu includes turkey, ham, potatoes and gravy, dressing, squash, corn, cranberries, bread and cake. If you pile all of that onto your plate, you won’t need another meal on Sunday.

And, get this: This generous fall dinner will cost you only $10 (ages 13 and older), $5 for 6-12-year-olds and free for those five and under.

Serving is from 11 a.m. – 1 p.m. Be prepared to wait upstairs in the sanctuary for tables to empty in the church basement.

You might want to attend the 9:30 a.m. church service so you can be among the first in line.

Participants in last year’s Chili Contest dish up chili at a business along Central Avenue during the Fall Festival.

ANOTHER AREA FOOD EVENT actually happens a day earlier during the Fall Festival in downtown Faribault from 10:30 a.m. – 3 p.m. Saturday. In addition to an 11 a.m. costume parade, pumpkin painting and other activities for the kids, a Chili Contest is part of the celebration.

You can eat your way down historic Central Avenue sampling about 30 chilis between 11 a.m. – 1 p.m. I’d advise arriving earlier rather than later as in the past some competitors have run out of chili. I believe the cost is $3, a real deal considering you will have your fill of chili.

Be sure to vote for your favorite because the winning chili will be featured every Friday from October through February at Boston’s The Gourmet Pizza.

Seriously, people, two days of no cooking and eating great homecooked food on the cheap works for me.

FINALLY…REMEMBER that Wisconsin barn I featured here earlier this week? You know the one with the message “#12 is #1G.” I wanted you to guess if the barn was painted green, gold or red.

Well, dear readers, here is the true barn color:

Yes, the barn is red.

I know some of you are perhaps disappointed that the barn is not Green Bay Packers green or gold.

But, I must tell you that, while shopping at Festival Foods in Appleton, Wisconsin, last Saturday, my husband and I found green and gold brat and hamburger buns on a special Green Bay Packers food display.

I could have kicked myself for not bringing my camera into the grocery store. Randy photographed the buns with his cell phone. So if we ever figure out how to get that photo onto my computer, I will show you those green and gold buns.

I am not making this up.

#

MY APOLOGIES, READERS, for the over-sized images here. But I’ve tried to reduce them without success; apparently some technical issues going on here with WordPress.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Traveling photography February 23, 2012

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The clouds, the lighting, the red buildings slung against the sky drew my eyes and camera toward this farm along I-94 in western Minnesota.

I WASN’T ALWAYS a fan of winter photography. Honestly, who likes to navigate snow and ice and freeze your fingers off to shoot images? Not me.

But, since discovering on-the-road travel photography—meaning I actually fire off frames while riding in a vehicle traveling at highway/interstate speeds of 55 – 70 mph—I’ve come to embrace winter photography.

I started clicking my shutter when I saw this picturesque farm in the Avon/Albany area. This is frame two.

By the third frame, this beautiful fieldstone barn came into my sight line.

In winter the landscape lies exposed, giving a photographer ample opportunity to see and photograph subjects which, in other seasons, remain hidden. And I, for one, appreciate that openness and vulnerability.

My eyes fly across the landscape as I ride shotgun, camera in hand set to a fast shutter speed (the sports mode in automatic settings), poised to click the shutter button.

The weathered barn and the lighting around the silos drew me to photograph this scene.

Farm sites, specifically barns, cause me to lift my ever-ready camera from my lap, focus and shoot. Sometimes I get the shot, sometimes I don’t. It’s all in the timing and the ability to compose on the fly.

Consistently, the quality of these on-the-road photos surprises me, in a good way. Often I couldn’t have gotten better results had I stood still in front of the subject, focused and composed with care and shot many frames.

Of course, I’ve missed plenty of photo ops, too, because I’ve been daydreaming or talking or been too slow to react.

I honestly thought I'd missed this shot. But when I saw the results, well, I was pretty pleased.

A recent trip along Interstate 94 to and from Fargo gave me plenty of time to practice on-the-road photography as I focused on farm sites, the landscape and whatever else I found of interest.

An added bonus comes once I download the images into my computer and notice details I failed to see while photographing scenes.

The next time you hit the highway as a passenger on a long road trip, consider trying this type of photography.

Clean your windows, adjust your camera, buckle up and you’re set to roll.

Just one more farm along I-94 that I couldn't resist photographing.

TELL ME, HAVE you ever photographed using this method? What works/doesn’t work for you? And what do you like to photograph?

NOTE: Except to downsize the above images, I have not edited them.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Preserving central Wisconsin’s rural heritage via on-the-road photography January 5, 2012

Each time I see this Wisconsin barn, I think of the biblical story of Joseph's coat of many colors.

ON OUR FOURTH TRIP through central Wisconsin in a year along the same route—Interstate 90 to Interstate 94 in Tomah then on Wisconsin Highway 21 to Oshkosh, up U.S. Highway 41 to Appleton—I’m getting to know the Dairyland state from her western to near eastern borders.

She’s a beautiful state of rolling hills, flat marsh land, stands of packed pencil-thin pines, too many towns whose names end in “ville,” infinite piles of stacked firewood, cranberry bogs and potato patches, muskrat mounds, cheese stores, Packers fans, small-town bars and barns—oh, the barns that I love to photograph.

One of my favorite barns along Wisconsin Highway 21 because of the stone walls.

As I’ve done on every 600-mile round trip to and from our second daughter’s Appleton home, I capture the scenery via on-the-road photography, meaning I photograph through the passenger side window or windshield of our vehicle at highway speeds. Sometimes I manage to snap a well-composed image. Other times I fail to lift my camera, compose and click in time and miss the photo op.

Journey after journey, I find my eyes drawn to the many old barns that are so much a part of Wisconsin’s landscape and heritage. And mine. Only in Minnesota.

I’ve seen every type of barn, from the well-preserved to the crumbling, pieced-together-with-tin structure. I know that any barn, once left to fall into a rotting pile of boards, will never be replaced by an equally grand structure.

A pieced together weathered barn blends into the gray landscape on a dreary winter afternoon.

A once grand barn shows the first signs of falling into disrepair.

The occasional white barn pops up among the characteristically red barns.

Majestic barns, rising sturdy and proud above the land, are seldom crafted anymore. Instead, mundane metal rectangles sprawl, without any character or beauty, across the landscape. Such structures hold no artistic, but only practical, value on the farm.

Via my barn photography, I am documenting for future generations a way of life—the family farm—which, in many places, has already vanished.

If my photos inspire you to appreciate barns and rural life and the land and our agricultural heritage and the men and women who work the soil and their importance in this great country of ours, then I will have passed along to you something of great worth.

An especially picturesque farm site along Wisconsin Highway 21.

The muted blue-grey of this old farmhouse blends seamlessly with the dreamy landscape on a snowy New Year's Day afternoon in central Wisconsin.

Contrasted against snow, red barns are particularly visually appealing.

NOTE: The above photos were taken on December 30, 2011, and January 1, 2012, along Wisconsin Highway 21 in the central part of the state primarily between Wautoma and Oshkosh.

I have applied a canvas style editing technique to most of the images, creating a quality that is more painting than photo.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Snippets of rural Minnesota in photos November 1, 2011

A harvest scene along U.S. Highway 52 in southeastern Minnesota Sunday afternoon.

YOU CAN TAKE the girl off the farm, but you can’t take the farm out of the girl.

Even decades after leaving my childhood farm at age 17 to start my freshman year of college in the fall of 1974, I hold tight to my agricultural roots.

My rural upbringing shaped me as a person, defined me as a writer and photographer.

More often than not, I find myself creatively focused on the rural, on those places and memories that remind me of the farm and which hold the strongest grasp on my heart.

So I am naturally drawn to photographing rural landscapes and barns and country churches and tractors and small towns whenever I travel. These are the places and objects to which I feel the deepest connection.

I'm always and forever photographing barns like this one along Hwy 52 between Pine Island and Rochester.

Today I’ll take you along U.S. Highway 52 and Interstate 90 in the southeastern section of Minnesota. I’ll show you rural snippets photographed at highway speeds through the passenger side and front windows of our family’s cars. Yes, cars, plural. My husband and I made a quick jaunt to Tomah, Wisconsin, on Sunday to exchange vehicles with our second daughter. Hers needs repair and we met her half-way between her home and ours.

After 2 ½ hours of travel to reach Tomah, we lunched with Miranda and a friend before turning around and heading back home to Faribault.

The day rated as gloomy and dreary weather-wise. Yet, as you will see, such moody skies bring out an emotion in images that you might not feel had the day been sunny bright.

I’m always surprised, when I view the photos, to see the details I missed in the process of shooting the images. But then, along-the-highway scenes flash by in an instant and they are gone, not wholly appreciated until that second, later look in a photo.

You can barely see the distant tractor in this shot. But that's what I like about this scene, how the sheer size of the cornfield and the skies dwarf the tractor, reinforcing the thought that everything is truly small in comparison to the landscape, to the big, big world.

Every red building stood out against the grey, grey skies. Sky is always an integral part of my photos.

Even the stripes of crops are aesthetically pleasing to my photographer's eye.

This photo of Pine Island connects town and country in a seamless blend.

An historic barn and a horse...a common sight along Hwy 52 and I-90.

The red-roofed barn provides a jolt of color under heavy grey skies.

A country church, strong and sturdy, along I-90 near the Winona exit. Look closely and you'll see a sheriff's department squad car parked by the church.

Westbound on I-90, the sun begins to set. I like the contrast between the vivid yellow sign and the grey of the day.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Gaining confidence as a poet October 19, 2011

I THINK ALL WRITERS, if we’re honest with ourselves, face insecurities about writing.

Can we write? Is our writing “good enough” to publish? Will anyone read, or even care about, what we write?

I’ve long overcome any issues I faced about journalism style writing. I’m confident in my abilities to pull together a good feature story or another journalistic piece given my educational background in mass communications and my years of experience in journalism. And with several years of blogging to my credit, I’m also confident in that writing style.

It’s poetry which has challenged my confidence. Although I’ve written poetry off and on since high school—which stretches back nearly four decades—I’ve never written much poetry, at least not enough to consider myself a true poet. Until now.

Finally, this year, with the publication of two poems in two Minnesota literary journals and winning the spring Roadside Poetry contest, I’m comfortable adding “poet” to my writing credentials.

Getting to the point of feeling comfortable with the term “poet” really began 11 years ago with publication of a poem in Poetic Strokes, A Regional Anthology of Poetry from Southeastern Minnesota, Volume 2. I considered that a stroke of good fortune. But when four more poems published in the next two volumes, I began to think that maybe, just maybe, I could write poetry. After all, I had competed against other writers to get into the Poetic Strokes anthologies.

Then I had a poem accepted for publication in The Lutheran Digest.

Next, I earned an honorable mention for my poem, “Hit-and-Run,” published last year in The Talking Stick, Forgotten Roads, Volume 19.

Finally, this year, I had an official poet epiphany when I entered three poetry competitions and was subsequently published on Roadside Poetry billboards, in The Talking Stick, Black & White, Volume 20 and Lake Region Review.

Although I don’t know how many poets I competed against in Roadside Poetry, I do have the numbers for the two literary journals. The Talking Stick this year published 140 pieces of poetry, creative nonfiction and fiction from 99 writers, me being one of them with my poem, “Abandoned Barn,” and my creative nonfiction, “Welcome Home.” That’s out of 326 submissions from 171 writers.

Look at the list of writers, and you may recognize a few names like Marge Barrett, Tim J. Brennan, Charmaine Pappas Donovan, Jerry Mevissen, Candace Simar…

It’s quite a process to get into The Talking Stick with five members of The Jackpine Writers’ Bloc reading all of the entries and then an editorial board meeting to vote and discuss. The top four to seven favorites in each category are then forwarded to celebrity judges—this year Kris Bigalk, Kevin Kling and Alison McGhee—to choose first and second place winners in each division.

As for Lake Region Review, the process of selecting the works for publication is equally as rigorous. Co-editors Mark Vinz—author, professor emeritus of English at Minnesota State University Moorhead and first coordinator of MSUM’s Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing—and Athena Kildegaard—author and lecturer at the University of Minnesota Morris—worked with a staff of 10. They read more than 200 submissions before narrowing the field to 27 established and emerging writers.

I’m one of those 27.

And so is Leif Enger, author of the 2001 New York Times best-seller Peace Like a River, which happens to be a favorite book of mine. It’s nice to be in the company of someone who, like me, writes with a strong sense of place.

Most of my poetry connects to the southwestern Minnesota prairie, where I grew up on a dairy and crop farm. Specifically, the barn on the home place inspired my two distinct barn poems which published in The Talking Stick and Lake Region Review.

I don’t know what moved the editors of either publication to select my poems for inclusion in their literary journals. But I did incorporate lines such as “hot cow pee splattering into her gutters” and “rusty hinges creaking like aged bones.”

According to Co-editor Kildegaard at Lake Region Review, editors chose pieces that were “fresh, creative, lively, interesting. We were looking for writing that has something new to say.”

Apparently I had something new to say about the old barn.

The early 1950s barn on the Redwood County dairy farm where I grew up today stands empty of animals.

WRITERS FEATURED in the recently-published 212-page The Talking Stick, Black & White, Volume 20, are from, or have a strong connection to, Minnesota. Those published in the 138-page debut of Lake Region Review live primarily in west central Minnesota. Eight writers have been published in both collections.

The cover of Lake Region Review is a detail of an original landscape painting, “Christina Lake: View from Seven Sisters,” by American impressionist painter Stephen Henning of Otter Tail County.

IF YOU’RE A WRITER, specifically of poetry, did you/do you struggle with confidence issues? At what point did you/will you call yourself a poet?

FYI: For more information or to purchase copies of either literary journal featured here, click on the appropriate link below:

www.lakeregionreview.net

www.thetalkingstick.com

And click here for more information about Roadside Poetry.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

It takes a strong man or woman to farm August 2, 2011

Bins on a farm place somewhere along the back roads between New Ulm and Morgan.

“I COULD NEVER BE MARRIED to a farmer or be a farmer,” I told my cousin Kevin as we stood outside the Vesta Community Hall Friday evening discussing the July 1 windstorms and tornadoes that ravaged my native southwestern Minnesota.

Kevin farms south of Echo, where he lost three grain bins, trees, and, if I remember correctly, an auger, to high winds. He’s looking at replacement and upgrade costs of more than $140,000. And a good chunk of that will not be covered by insurance. Investing so much money in his farm now, at near 60 years old, doesn’t come easily for him, he claims. But he doesn’t have an option if he is to continue farming.

As he was sharing his story, he said, “I told the wife I need to…” Kevin, 56, got married late in life (six years ago), so I still have to remember sometimes that he’s with Kris, a wonderful woman.

It takes a strong man or woman to live a life of farming. As much as I love the farm, I couldn’t farm. I couldn’t handle the financial stress, the “I told the wife I need to” replace the grain bins or I need to borrow money for a new tractor or the beans were hailed out…

I’d stress over borrowing all that money and over the financial risks inherent in farming.  Will commodity prices be up or down when I want to sell the corn and beans? Should I sign a contract now or wait? Should I buy that piece of equipment, build that machine shed? Will I get a decent crop? I’m not a gambler or a risk taker, even though I grew up on a crop and dairy farm.

Soybean and corn fields stretch into forever in southwestern Minnesota. I shot this image on Friday between New Ulm and Morgan.

For many Minnesota farmers, this year has been especially challenging. Crops were planted late due to wet field conditions. Then the heavy rains fell, drowning out entire sections of fields. Next, strong winds and hail devastated beans and corn.

For the first time that I can ever recall, I saw black fields near my hometown of Vesta. My cousin told me the fields had been replanted and then the storms came when it was too late to replant again.

Three days this week, beginning today, farmers, agri-business reps and others will gather at the historic Gilfillan Farm between Morgan and Redwood Falls for Farmfest. There, in the heart of Minnesota’s farm country, I bet if you eavesdropped on a conversation or two or ten, you’d hear some farmer say, “I told the wife I need to…”

I spotted this damage to a building on a farm just north of Belview, which was hit by a July 1 tornado.

I took this shot traveling Minnesota Highway 67 west toward Morgan Friday afternoon. Follow this road and you'll end up at Farmfest. You can see Morgan's water tower and grain elevator complex in the distance.

Farmfest at the historic Gilfillan Farm runs today through Thursday.

When I drove by the Farmfest grounds Friday afternoon, tents were already in place for the event.

A barn, outbuildings and a corn field between New Ulm and Morgan.

Bins on a farm site along the back road between New Ulm and Morgan.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Drive-by barn photo shoot February 28, 2011

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EVERY TIME I TRAVEL Interstate 35 north to the Twin Cities, I think, I need to photograph “that barn.”

That would be the red barn near the Elko/New Market exit with the “Sugardale” lettering painted on the end.

So Sunday afternoon, en route back to Faribault from Burnsville, where I had picked up my camera at National Camera Exchange, I was ready. My fingers were itching to snap more than a few photos since I’d been without my Canon for a week. I had the sensor cleaned.

Anyway, I set a fast shutter speed and hoped for the best as I shot two images through the passenger side window at an interstate speed of 70 mph. That’s all I got before the barn moved out of lens range. My husband asked if I wanted to detour and get a closer shot, but I declined. I was tired and not really dressed for a winter-time photo shoot, meaning I wasn’t wearing boots.

I was pleasantly surprised by the results given I was shooting through a grimy window, at a distance further than I preferred and on a gloomy afternoon.

Here are the results.

Photo one of the "Sugardale" barn.

Photo number two of the "Sugardale" barn. I like how both photos define the starkness of the land on an overcast winter afternoon in Minnesota.

I fully intend to return and shoot the barn close-up. Yeah, I’ve been saying that for years.

In the meantime, does anyone know anything about the history of this barn or Sugardale?

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Why some of us appreciate abandoned buildings February 25, 2011

 

Harriet Traxler photographed this abandoned building along U.S. Highway 14 near Waseca several years ago. She's a hobbyist photographer specializing in nature and rural photography. This photo placed in a photo contest Harriet entered. "It is one of my favorites because of what it doesn't tell you," Harriet says.

SOMETIMES I’M SURPRISED by readers’ reactions to my posts. Usually, the stories and photos I least expect will interest readers, do.

Take my post on abandoned buildings. Last fall, I photographed a dilapidated building in the middle of nowhere along a gravel road near Kasota. I can’t give you the exact location because I don’t know quite where I was on that autumn day.

When I published that photo and wrote about my fascination with abandoned buildings in rural landscapes earlier this week, readers from Oregon, Arkansas and Minnesota responded. Seems I’m not alone in my appreciation of abandoned buildings and the history, memories and stories they hold.

Harriet Traxler, a hobbyist photographer from rural Belle Plaine and the publisher of a book series featuring photos of Sibley County, Minnesota, barns, emailed two photos of abandoned buildings. She is graciously allowing me to share her images and thoughts.

“I, too, am drawn to photographing old, abandoned buildings and then find myself staring at the pictures and trying to imagine who the people were that built and lived in these homes or worked in these barns that now stand empty,” Harriet says. “And the memories of the hard work, the laughter, the troubles; everything that went towards making it a home or farm are now gone forever.

Oftentimes when I would be out photographing the barns in Sibley County or even on a cross country trip, I would see a windmill or a silo or a small grove of trees standing alone in the middle of a field and wonder about the farm that stood there too.

What happened to the family that lived there once not too long ago? Were they happy? Were there children who played and worked alongside their family? Was there a tragedy that occurred that drove the family from the farm?

We often romanticize farm life, but that life was one of the hardest to live. If it was a dairy farm, like most were in rural Minnesota, then it was long days, seven days a week, and children after growing up on this type of farm, learning good work ethics, seldom wanted to spend the rest of their lives doing the work their parents had done for years and years. When they left the farms for those good ‘city jobs,’ that is when farm life began to disappear and those abandoned buildings really began to appear.”

I COULDN’T HAVE said it any better, Harriet. I am one of those kids who left the (dairy) farm.

Harriet, too, grew up on a farm, in Sibley County, on her uncle’s place, that looks nothing like the home of her youth.

 

The old granary on the farm where Harriet grew up.

“All that remains standing is this old granary that also always smelled of rats and dusty bins of oats,” Harriet says. “It had a lean-to attached to it that was used as a garage for my uncle’s car. I remember every inch of that farm because I loved to explore every inch of it.

I didn’t have to work nearly as hard on that farm as most children had to on the farms they grew up on so maybe that is why I loved it so much.

The freedom to be me was always there and I have often gone back to my ‘roots’ and those memories…the better memories seem to always remain pushing other memories that were not so much fun to the far corners of the mind.”

© Text copyright 2011 by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

© Photo copyright by Harriet Traxler