A Northfield Arts and Culture Commission mural by Brett Whitacre, just off Division Street in Northfield, blooms love. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
IS IT COLD out there?” I asked before rolling out of bed on a recent subzero morning.
In an underpass tunnel along a recreational trail in Northfield, Adam Turman created this summer scene on a mural. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
“No, it’s summertime,” he answered.
A Montgomery Wings Mural Walk wing on Lanette’s Coffee Shop features flowers watered by Scarlett, who is wearing traditional Czech clothing. That honor’s the Czech heritage of Montgomery, MN. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
That sarcastic response from my husband acted as a writing prompt during this week of cold weather advisories and warnings in Minnesota. We’ve experienced wind chills ranging from -25 to -50 degrees across the state. That’s brutally cold.
Wild geraniums painted by Adam Turman inside an underpass tunnel in Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
On the morning I asked Randy about the cold, the 7:17 a.m. air temp registered -12 degrees. With the wind chill, it felt like -29 degrees. That marked the coldest day in six years. I know we are not alone here in Minnesota as frigid air and snow sweep the country, including into the deep South.
Flowers fill the LoveForAll mural by Jordyn Brennanin downtown Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Because I can’t flee to a warmer location, I opted to transport myself from the currently cold, colorless landscape of southern Minnesota to a place of beauty. Without leaving the area. For me, that comes in photos I’ve taken of floral-themed murals blooming throughout the area. In the deep of winter, these paintings hold the hope of warmer days, of sunshine and flowers.
My most recent mural discovery was several months ago on Wild Wood in Nerstrand. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
I love when communities embrace this form of public art, because murals are accessible to anyone, anytime. They spark joy, generate interest in place, show community pride. I get excited when I unexpectedly happen upon a mural.
The rare Dwarf Trout Lily grows only in Rice, Steele and Goodhue counties in Minnesota and is depicted here by Adam Turman on an underpass tunnel wall in Northfield.(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Floral-themed murals, especially, have a way of uplifting spirits, of celebrating all that is beautiful and lovely. Bold, vivid hues in the deep of January in Minnesota, offer a welcome visual respite.
A close-up of mums and peonies, forefront, in Jordyn Brennan’s LoveForAll mural. Faribault was once renowned for those two flowers. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
I can almost imagine meandering through a flower garden, dipping my nose into blossoms, appreciating each scent, each petal, each stem. Oh, the beauty of it all.
Floral-themed wings appropriately placed outside Posy Floral & Gifts in Montgomery as part of the Montgomery Wings Mural Walk. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
On these frigid days, when I view a drab landscape of muted tones, trees stripped of leaves, snow layering the earth, I delight in sharing the floral murals I’ve photographed. No one ever promised me a rose garden. But these murals hold the promise of spring and of summertime in Minnesota.
Bring out the cold weather gear like this photographed at a vintage snowmobile show during a past Winterfest. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
WITH AIR TEMPS DIPPING into the single digit subzero range and windchills at around minus 25 degrees on recent mornings in Minnesota, we’ve been in a bit of a cold snap. We’ll get a several-day respite of 30 degrees before temps plunge again, dipping to even colder early next week when an arctic front moves in.
All this cold got me thinking about ways to define a cold snap. It’s not only about the way it feels, but also how it sounds and looks, yes, looks.
Here’s how a cold snap feels: Like a slap on the cheeks. Biting, bitter, unbelievably cold. Exposed skin can freeze in 10-15 minutes.
The cold of a cold snap also feels like ice on bare feet during a night-time trip to the bathroom. But even before that, cold feels like I-don’t-want-to-get-out-of-bed-from-under-these-warm-covers-because-the-house-is-cold. Our thermostat is set at 62 degrees at night. Comfortable, except during a cold snap when outdoor air seems to infiltrate the indoors.
Legendary lumberjack Paul Bunyan has made wearing buffalo plaid flannel fashionable in Minnesota. Here he’s depicted on an ice machine outside Thurlow Hardware and Rental, Pequot Lakes. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
These are the days of layering, of pulling out the warmest flannel or fleece. I wear a tee, topped by a flannel shirt, topped by a sweatshirt or sweater. Randy has pulled out his heavy duty quilt-lined flannel shirt that visually widens his girth. Who cares about fashion? Not me. The goal is to stay warm.
In the evenings, with the thermostat set at 68 degrees, we find additional warmth under fleece throws or, whoever grabs it first, under an especially warm fleece-lined denim quilt. We opt not to crank up the heat in an effort to keep our energy bill down. Even with that, heating an old house with natural gas gets costly.
Chicken Wild Rice Soup, one of my favorite soups, served at a fundraiser in St. Peter years ago. I made a batch of this soup earlier this week. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
A cold snap feels like dry, itchy skin; aching joints; a parched throat. I’m drinking more water and tea. Water flowing from the tap first thing in the morning is ice cold. I’m cooking more soups and comfort foods like Chicken Wild Rice Soup and lasagna.
These deeply cold mornings, Randy warms the van before leaving for work. The sound of tires on the street past our house carries a sharpness and, if snow layers the pavement, tires crunch. Bitter cold holds a distinct, almost indescribable, sound.
Frost art on an upstairs window during a past winter. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Inside and outside, a cold snap is visible. I see it in the line of frost edging the bottoms of exterior doors. I pull a rag rug snug against the lower edge of the front door to block the draft. I see cold in the intricate frost patterns painted on bedroom windows upstairs.
These cold winter days have me dreaming of summer days at a central Minnesota lake cabin. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo July 2020)
And when I look outside from my relatively warm house, it simply looks cold, the sky clear, the bright sunshine only an illusion of warmth. For many Minnesotans, though, warmth is a reality as residents escape to warmer places like Arizona, Texas and Florida. Whether for a week, a month or the entire winter, these vacationers and snowbirds seek a break from the bitter cold and snow of a Minnesota winter.
I can’t help but think about those experiencing homelessness, including right here in Faribault. Where are these individuals living, sleeping? Surely not in the tents I’ve seen pitched along the river bottom. In the metro area, facilities are opening as warming centers. So, yeah, even though I’m not fond of this cold snap, at least I have a home.
Squiggles in the morning sky. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2022)
SEVERAL WEEKS AGO, on a brutally cold Minnesota winter morning when tires on roadways sound like boots crunching glass, when breathing in outdoor air almost hurts, when brilliant sunshine deceives, I noticed a strange sight in the sky. An endless skinny squiggle.
Alarmed, I wondered at the contrail resembling the attempts of a preschooler free-styling the letter “S.” Was this thin white line revealing an out-of-control aircraft about to crash? It’s interesting where the mind wanders when knowledge lacks. I will be the first to admit I don’t understand much about airplanes. I still don’t understand the physics of flight, not that I’ve even tried to educate myself. It simply does not interest me.
An edited version of the original photo to better show the squiggles. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2022)
With questions racing through my mind, I grabbed my camera to document the scene through my front picture window. Yes, utility wires and dirty glass distracted, but I held no desire to step into the frigid cold to take photos.
Upon discussing the skinny squiggles with Randy many hours later, he suggested the cold, stillness and other “just right” atmospheric weather conditions caused those skinny contrail squiggles. Right? Wrong? What do you think (or know)? I’m listening.
WITH SNOW MELTING from rooftops and sidewalks under a bold January sun, I lugged a laundry basket of thermal long john tops outdoors to hang on the clothesline.
The visual contrast of those shirts on the line against the backdrop of a snow-filled backyard imprinted by rabbit, squirrel and other animal tracks nearly made me laugh aloud. I was taunting Winter, daring her to keep me from a task I enjoy, although less often in the cold and snow than in other seasons.
But with a respite from sub-zero temps here in Minnesota, I grabbed the opportunity to trump Winter, to prove that, yes, if I want to hang out laundry in January, I will find a day warm enough to do so. There’s something to be said for defying Winter.
As the cold of 20-degree temps numbed my fingers, I felt a sense of satisfaction in this methodical task of hanging laundry. Clip, clip, clip. And then, after the dozen shirts dangled from the line, I stepped back inside to brew myself a mug of coffee, to thaw my hands and to delight in my momentary triumph over Winter.
TELL ME: If you live in a cold weather state, do you hang laundry outdoors in winter?
Just outside of Faribault driving south on Interstate 35 toward Owatonna early Sunday afternoon.
WINTER EXITED MINNESOTA this weekend, ushering in a glimpse of spring. And it was glorious—this temporary respite from cold and snow.
Temps rose above forty degrees. The sun shone. Cardinals shrilled. Snow melted into slushy puddles. And I walked across parking lots in a sweater rather than winter coat.
I needed a weekend like this drenched mostly in sunshine, blue streaking through clouds, patches of blue sky pushing away clouds.
To the west of Interstate 35, clouds billow above snow-washed fields.
As my husband and I drove south toward Owatonna early Sunday afternoon, I couldn’t get enough of the sky.
I’m holding onto those images now that the weather is about to change with a strong winter storm predicted for Tuesday. My county of Rice is under a Winter Storm Watch while counties to the south and west are under a Blizzard Watch.
Large swatches of blue sky prevailed to the west of the Interstate.
I knew this weekend’s spring-like weather wouldn’t last.
Blue skies accentuate fighter jets at Owatonna Degner Regional Airport along the Interstate.
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