Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

On the road into harvest in southern Minnesota September 16, 2026

En route to Vesta and back, we passed endless ripening fields and farm sites, including this one in the New Ulm area. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2026)

ACRE UPON ACRE of drying corn and soybean fields unrolled before us as Randy and I headed west 120 miles from Faribault to my hometown for a mournful family gathering, this time to honor my cousin Jeff. He died unexpectedly at the age of 63 only three months after his mother, my Aunt Marilyn.

Here we were again, back at the hilltop Vesta Cemetery, circling around gravestones to hear Scripture, to pray, to sing, to comfort one another, to remember Jeff while a fierce wind blew and the bright sunshine warmed us.

On the northwest edge of Vesta, a sign notes a corn research site. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2026)

As I stood there, I took in the countryside of this prairie place. I love this land of rich, dark soil. This land from which seeds sprout, grow into plants reaching toward the sun. This is fertile land that holds the promise of a plentiful harvest. Redwood County has, undeniably, some of the best farmland in Minnesota.

Combining soybeans north of Sleepy Eye. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 12, 2026)

All through our 5-hour round trip, Randy and I kept a watchful eye on the crops, noting some nearly ready for harvest, others awaiting ripening. And in one spot north of Sleepy Eye, we came across farmers harvesting soybeans.

A gravel road southeast of Morgan threads between corn and soybean fields. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2026)

We are both farm kids—he a native of Morrison County in central Minnesota. As such, our observation of crops comes from a childhood of living on the land, of working the land (Randy more than me), of watching our farmer fathers work.

Farmward Cooperative centers the agricultural business community in Morgan. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2026)

On this mid-September road trip, I was, in some ways, transported back in time to the farm. My focus shifted to the impending harvest. Preparation. Grain bins emptied to receive new crops. Combines and grain trucks at the ready.

Corn has already been harvested at this farm along Minnesota State Highway 19 only miles from Vesta. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2026)

A sense of anticipation prevails this time of year as farmers prepare to gather in the crops.

A barn near New Ulm. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2026)

But beyond the fields, I noticed, too, the detailed ruralness of place the farther west we traveled. West of Mankato, the agrarian way of life always seems more defined as distances between farm sites grow.

Cattle grazing in the Janesville area. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2026)

With fewer visual distractions, I see the barns, the grain bins, the occasional cattle grazing.

Roadside pumpkin stands, like Moll’s Produce near New Ulm, are beginning to pop up. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2026)

I see roadside stands stocked with plump pumpkins ushering in autumn.

The soybean field backdropping this Old Sod Days sign south of Belview is beginning to ripen. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2026)

I see corn leaves curling, drying. I see soybean fields morphing from green to yellow to brown.

A partially-visible sign next to a cornfield thanks farmers. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2026)

Near Morgan, the site of Farm Fest, a yearly Minnesota agricultural celebration, I spot several signs thanking farmers. Likewise in areas along U.S. Highway 14 between Owatonna and Mankato, farm-themed signage billboards the roadway.

Sugar beets piled at a dumping station along Minnesota State Highway 19 between Redwood Falls and Vesta. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2026)

There is reason to feel grateful for Minnesota farmers who grow the corn, soybeans and sugar beets I saw on this road trip. They work hard. They invest time, energy and lots of money in producing crops that benefit all of us. I could not do their job; I am risk averse.

Parked next to a cornfield along U.S. Highway 14 in the New Ulm area, a John Deere tractor for sale. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2026)

In a year like this with current diesel fuel prices at their highest level ever, profit margins will be slimmer, if at all. I cannot imagine the stress farmers feel as they crunch numbers, check prices, budget for expenses, wonder how they will make loan payments or pay for diesel to fuel up farm equipment.

A billboard in the Janesville area advertises a seed brand. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2026)

It takes courage to be a farmer. Optimism. Strength, too. Yet, farmers are a resilient bunch. Come next spring, most will be back on the land, seeding another crop in anticipation of another harvest.

© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

In concert from Rochester: “The Farmer’s Song” & six other poems April 1, 2017

 

IT IS MY PLEASURE to present to you a video that includes “The Farmer’s Song,” my poem performed last weekend at two concerts in Rochester.

Click here to listen to a Choral Song Cycle by David Kassler on Texts of Minnesota Poets. I read my poem at about 39 minutes followed by a Chamber Choir singing “The Farmer’s Song” with cellist and pianist accompaniment. This concert was held at Good Shepherd Lutheran Church.

To Rochester composer David Kassler and to all of the musicians, thank you for this gift of an artsong. Fueled by your musical passions and talents, you took my poem and crafted a moving tribute to the Minnesota farmer I remember. To share my rural roots in this way has been a truly joyful experience. And to be in the company of six other gifted poets was also an honor.

Thank you.

The Farmer’s Song

Out of rote he follows the path from house to barn,
from barn to shed, steel-toed boots beating a rhythm
upon the earth, into this land which claims his soul.

He reaches for the paint-chipped handle,
his grease-stained fingers connecting with worn metal
like hammer to nail in the movements of his day.

Farming defines the lyrics of his life written upon hands
that have measured yields, directed tractors, pitched manure,
stroked calves, performed seasons of backbreaking labor.

Inside the shed, as he latches wrench to bolt,
he ponders the final verses of his years, the songs he’ll sing
when age frays his memory, grips his hands in a hallelujah chorus.

 

FYI:  If you are a choral conductor interested in having this music performed by your ensemble. please contact David Kassler. He will work with you. Like Kassler, I would love to see these artsongs reach an even broader audience.

Click here to read my initial blog post about the concert.

A special thank you also to Park Rapids-based The Jackpine Writer’s Bloc for originally publishing “The Farmer’s Song” in the anthology In Retrospect, The Talking Stick, Volume 22.

© Copyright 2017 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