When I walked into Ron’s hodgepodge of a shop in downtown Waterville, I found him working on a puzzle. I asked to take his photo and he agreed. He loves puzzling and that shows. I really like this everyday slice-of-life-in-a-small-town portrait. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)
THROUGHOUT THE YEAR, I take thousands of photos, many of them at public events. At these gatherings, whether celebratory or somber, I am drawn to document moments of humanity. Perhaps it’s a look, a reaction, an interaction. I’ve been doing photography long enough to understand when something will make a good photo. And when I say “good,” I mean a well-composed image that tells a story and, hopefully, garners a reaction from anyone who sees it.
I come from a journalism background, earning a degree in mass communications, news-editorial emphasis, in 1978. I was required to take a few photography classes as part of that long ago degree. Those taught me the basics, which I carried with me to every newspaper reporting and freelance job I’ve ever held. I didn’t always have the luxury of a staff photographer. I was the reporter and the photographer.
In the decades since, from film to digital, I’ve gained confidence and skills in photography. And I continue to the love the craft. For me, photography centers on storytelling.
As I’ve been out and about in southern Minnesota during 2025, I’ve used my Canon EOS 60D, an older DSLR camera, to document what I’ve seen. Among the thousands of people photos I took this past year, I chose my top 12 to highlight in this end-of-year post. Only one image, the photo at the top of this post, was not photographed at a public gathering.
Enjoy! And feel free to share your thoughts in the comment section.
I caught the moment a firefighter rang a bell outside the Faribault fire hall during a 9/11 commemoration. The morning light was perfect and everything fell into place to make this an especially moving photo. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2025)
A tender moment when a mom retied a ribbon on her daughter’s Czech costume during a dance at Montgomery’s Czech May Day celebration. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
Oktoberfest in Dundas provided plenty of photo ops, including this one where a young boy wanted to join the dancing adults.Or maybe he was just watching, happy to be on the sideline. Whatever, I like the photo a lot. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)
In this inter-generational scene, a grandfather teaches marbles to his grandsons at the Valley Grove Country Social, rural Nerstrand. They were so intent on the game that they paid me no attention, just as I like it. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
I found this scene humorous and likely relatable for every guy who has ever waited for their partner to finish shopping. I took the image outside RR Revival in Lonsdale during a craft show in that small town. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
If ever there was a photo that exudes love of country in rural Minnesota, it is this image of a wagonload of people heading to the Memorial Day program at the Cannon City Cemetery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
In the context of everything happening in America, especially in Minnesota, this photo sends a strong message of American pride. These Somali-American children, U.S. flags in hand, watched the Memorial Day parade in downtown Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
As a cannon shot off during the Riverside Rendezvous & History Festival in Faribault, attendees were told to cover their ears for protection. I framed this scene to tell that story. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2025)
There were no second chances to get this photo of two women greeting each other at a downtown Faribault Car Cruise Night. I love the joy I was able to photograph in one single shot. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2025)
The Rice County Steam & Gas Engines Show tractor parade offers plenty of photo ops. I see total admiration on this young boy’s face and was delighted to photograph that sweet moment. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)
I loved watching and documenting the younger and older generations shelling corn together at the Rice County Steam & Gas Engines Show in a living rural history scene. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)
This photo, taken at the Grant Wood Rest Area along I-380 south of Cedar Rapids, Iowa, was published in a book about architecture. It was converted to black-and-white in the book. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
THROUGHOUT MY 15 YEARS of blogging, I’ve sold rights to dozens of images sourced from Minnesota Prairie Roots. My photos have published on websites, in tourism guides, on album covers, on packaging for a toy company, in magazines and newspapers, on business promotional materials, on signs and banners, on the cover of a nonprofit’s annual report, in books…
Three of my photos published in this book. (Book cover sourced online)
My Laura Look-Alike Contest photo displayed in a Chicago museum. My friend Laurel happened upon the photo while touring the museum and snapped this image for me. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo by Laurel Engquist)
Likewise, I had the honor of selling rights to photos displayed in a temporary Laura Ingalls Wilder exhibit at the American Writer’s Museum in Chicago, at the Minnesota Children’s Museum in St. Paul and at the National WWII Museum in New Orleans. Atherton Pictures purchased rights to a southwestern Minnesota farm site photo for a WWII video created for the museum. I’ve never visited any of the three museums.
The Minnesota Veterans Home, Bemidji, which can house 72 veterans, recently opened. (Photo courtesy of Minnesota Veterans Home, Bemidji)
Seldom do I see how my photos are used once I email the original high resolution digital images to the buyer. But this summer I had the joy of seeing my framed photos displayed in hallways of the new Minnesota Veterans Home in Bemidji. I was in town to bring my son, who lives in Boston and was in Bemidji for the international unicycling convention, home to Faribault. I knew I had to make time for a stop at the veterans home.
So in between Unicon 21 events, Randy and I headed to the vets home in hopes of seeing my six framed art prints. We found four, thanks to Maryhelen Chadwick, public affairs/volunteer coordinator at the Veterans Home. When we showed up unexpectedly, Chadwick graciously led us through the sprawling Town Center in search of my photos. There, in the hallways of this public space, which includes a multipurpose room, theater, club room, learning studio, family dining room, therapy gym and meditation room, we located four of my photos.
This photo, converted to black-and-white, hangs in the Bemidji veterans home. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
My photo of the Traveling Vietnam Memorial Wall also hangs in the vets home. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Curated by a St. Paul art company, the selected images are all veteran-themed. Oversized photos of veterans’ memorials in Faribault and Northfield anchor a hallway wall. Elsewhere in the public space are two more images shot in Faribault—a veteran playing taps at a Memorial Day program and a photo of items placed at the Traveling Vietnam Memorial Wall. Chadwick later found my photos of sculptures at the county memorial in Faribault and the Rock County Veterans Memorial, Luverne, in the residential wing of the veterans home.
My father, Elvern Kletscher, on the left with two of his soldier buddies in Korea. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo)
To see four of my six photos showcased in a public space where veterans, their families and friends, staff, and others can view my work is humbling. I am the daughter of a Korean War veteran. My dad, Elvern Kletscher, fought on the front lines in Korea as a foot soldier. He experienced the worst of war. The injuries. The killing. Atrocities so awful, so horrific that he was forever changed by his time in combat. He suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (unrecognized at the time of his discharge). He endured much pain, heartache, trauma. Nightmares. Flashbacks.
My photo of a sculpture at the Rock County Veterans Memorial, lower right, is showcased in a group of images in the Beltrami Household. (Photo courtesy of Minnesota Veterans Home, Bemidji)
But, in his later years of life, Dad found solace among other veterans in a support group through the Redwood County Veterans Service office. I remember how hard officials worked to secure the Purple Heart that Dad finally got 47 years after he was wounded on Heartbreak Ridge. I was there for that emotional public ceremony.
My photo of a dove and eagle at the Rice County Veterans Memorial in Faribault graces a hallway of the Beltrami Household. (Photo courtesy of Minnesota Veterans Home, Bemidji)
Today emotions swell again as I think of my framed photos hanging in the Minnesota Veterans Home—Bemidji. To me these are not just veterans-related images procured as art. They are a photographic “thank you” to every person who has served our country. Because of individuals like my dad, I live in a free country, in a democracy. I never take that for granted. To be able to express my gratitude via my photos is truly an honor, a joy and deeply meaningful.
I hope my photo of a dove sculpture, symbolizing peace, and an eagle, symbolizing freedom, conveys my gratitude to the veterans living in the Minnesota Veterans Home, Bemidji. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
NOTE: Maryhelen Chadwick kindly found and photographed my eagle/dove and soldier sculpture photos per my request after I visited the home. They hang in the Beltrami Household, one of four 18-room residential areas, a space I could not tour due to privacy.
A gift to me, with a note written in clearly disguised handwriting. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2023)
THIS MORNING A PACKAGE landed on my front steps. Unexpected. A sweet surprise on this first day of May, a day typically reserved for May baskets left by someone who rings the doorbell, then runs away. I’ve previously received such May Day drops of treats and lovely wishes. But today, oh, today, I got a book dropped by the United States Postal Service.
Fed Up! A Feast of Frazzled Foods by Rex Barron was exactly what I needed. This ABC children’s picture book, which is really for any age, made me laugh. Laugh because it fits how I feel right now. Fed up. Not with anyone, but rather with my recent diagnosis of vestibular neuronitis. The nerve which controls balance in my right ear has been inflamed, leaving me with multi-layered issues. Basically, because of a roadblock in the interconnected pathways in my brain, I need to retrain my brain to navigate along different paths. I’m doing that via vestibular rehab therapy.
Someone among my blog readers latched onto that and found Fed Up!, a vivid and humorous book so fitting of how I feel and what I am attempting to accomplish—retraining of my brain. I have no idea who sent this to me. But thank you!
I also want to take a moment to thank all of my readers. When I started blogging in July 2009, I did so because I am passionate about writing and photography. I’d just ended a blogging gig with a Minnesota magazine, no longer in circulation, and wanted to continue blogging. So I launched Minnesota Prairie Roots. But blogging grew into much more than an outlet for my creativity. It grew into a community. A community that I’ve found incredibly kind, caring, compassionate and more. Friendships have formed. I’ve always felt encouraged, supported and appreciated, whether I’m writing about a day trip discovery, a new book or personal challenges. Likewise, I appreciate that readers share their stories so that I can reciprocate. We are, after all, all part of this family of humanity that ought to care about one another.
Fed Up!, the ABC book gifted to me today is just one of many examples of the kindnesses extended to me through my years of blogging. That an anonymous reader took the time to find this fitting book and then pen an appropriate note touched me deeply and reaffirms my belief that much good still exists in this chaotic world.
How could I not laugh at “Cabbage Crying over Coleslaw” or “Impatient Ice Cream” (with a graphic of a melting ice cream cone) or “Radishes Relax by a Radio”? I laughed in the humor of it all—images and word. But, even more than that, I feel gratitude on this May Day to this anonymous friend and to my wider community of caring readers. Thank you!
AS I CONTINUE MY REVIEW of 2022 with a focus on messages found and photographed while out and about in the second half of the year, I hope you will feel moved to reflection and thoughtfulness. Words can hurt or heal. Words can diminish or build up. Words can defeat or encourage. Words are powerful and we need to remember that. Always. In 2023, I wish for more kindness and understanding, more compassion and love, more goodness in the words we speak and write.
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo July 2022)
JULY
Inspirational messages on benches in public spaces always draw my attention and my camera lens. Whether at a nature center, city park, garden or elsewhere, I will pause and read such uplifting quotes. I loved this message on a bench at the Rice County Master Gardeners Teaching Gardens in Faribault. Touching the lives of others in a compassionate and meaningful way is among the greatest legacies one can leave.
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo August 2022)
AUGUST
Some time after the Rice County Fair ended, I meandered through the fairgrounds. During that look-around, I found a 4-H food stand sign leaning against a building. Painted with the 4-H theme of hearts, hands, head and health, it offered qualities we should all strive to follow: a heart to greater loyalty, hands to larger service, a head to clear thinking and health to better living. How much better this world would be if we followed the 4-H motto, and supported 4-Hers by dining at “1 great food stand.”
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2022)
SEPTEMBER
September took me back to my native southwestern Minnesota to view an exhibit, “Making Lyon County Home,” at the Lyon County Historical Society Museum in Marshall. Two of my poems, “Hope of a Farmer” and “Ode to my Farm Wife Mother,” are included in that exhibit. To see my writing displayed there along with the work of other noted southwestern Minnesota writers was truly an honor.
A posted quote from poet and essayist Bill Holm speaks to the influence of the land on writers. He notes the difference between the woods eye and the prairie eye. As prairie natives, Holm (now deceased) and I see with prairie eyes. He summarizes well the influence of the prairie on creativity. I’ve always felt the prairie influence in my writing and photography.
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo October 2022)
OCTOBER
In a world that today feels more divisive than ever, I am encouraged by messages like the “EVERYONE WELCOME” sign posted in the window of a downtown Faribault business. I like how each colored line layers atop the previous one until the words emerge in a bold black, EVERYONE WELCOME.
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2022)
NOVEMBER
I laughed when I read the poster in the window of my local library: Because not everything on the internet is true. Duh? Yet, it’s a message that needs to be posted because too much inaccurate and blatantly false information circulates online and people believe it. That’s the scary part. And then the falsehoods are repeated and they grow into something awful and horrible and detrimental.
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo December 2022)
DECEMBER
My chosen words for December come from the Adopt-a-Tree program in Faribault. Businesses, individuals, non-profits and more purchase and decorate trees to give to families in need of a Christmas tree. But before those trees go into homes, they are displayed at Central Park.
One donor focused on suicide crisis intervention and prevention and support for those who have lost loved ones to suicide. Anything that opens the conversation about mental health gets my backing. We need to continue talking about mental health. We need to reduce the stigma.
But beyond conversation, we need to “do.” We need to show care and compassion for those living with mental health struggles. We need to support and encourage them, and those who love them. We desperately need more mental healthcare professionals so people in crisis can access care immediately. Wait times of six weeks or more are unacceptable. Try waiting six weeks if you’re having a heart attack. That’s my comparison.
As we move into 2023, I am hopeful. Hopeful that we can grow more compassionate and kind. Hopeful that I will continue to discover positive messages posted throughout southern Minnesota.
IN CONSIDERING PHOTOGRAPHIC year-in-review posts, I could have focused on what a challenging year 2022 was for me and my family. It was. Rather, I’m featuring words, words in photos I took and previously published here. Words that hold personal or community value. As a writer and photographer, communication is my work. And my passion. So I scrolled through my photo files to find words photographed from January-May in this, my first-half review of a year I’m eager to leave behind.
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo January 2022)
JANUARY
Ask like you care. I strung these four magnetic words together and stuck them to my refrigerator door. They are a reminder to always engage in meaningful and caring conversation. Too often when people ask, “How are you?”, they fail to listen. I am big on listening, really listening. Listening equals caring.
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo February 2022)
FEBRUARY
Bridge Square in downtown Northfield offers an outlet for public expression of opinion, often chalked onto the sidewalk. This quote about artists resonates. Creatives have the power to open eyes and ears and hearts to different ideas and perspectives, and therein lies great value.
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo March 2022)
MARCH
Among my favorite word finds of 2022 were the signs posted in the windows of Bridge Square Barbers in Northfield. I loved the humor and creativity. The signs prompted me to write a short story, “Barbershop Prompt,” which earned second place in creative nonfiction in The Talking Stick 31 Escapes anthology competition. It pays, literally, to pay attention to words.
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2022)
APRIL
A sign bannering Northfield’s celebration of Earth Day represents, in many ways, the strong concern for the environment that prevails across the planet. Such awareness is nothing new; it was big in the 70s when I was a coming-of-age teen. But now the voices seem louder, stronger, bolder and cover additional topics, like climate change. We all ought to care because this Earth is our home. And we each ought to move beyond words to action.
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2022)
MAY
May marked 40 years of marriage for Randy and me. We didn’t celebrate in a big way, just quietly. But someone remembered. Someone who anonymously mailed an anniversary card with $20 and a suggestion. I appreciated the thoughtfulness, even the remembering, because too few people remember such special occasions any more. I value greeting cards, the handwritten word and the love they hold.
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo June 2022)
JUNE
Words galore imprinted upon buttons pinned to a bulletin board at The Shop on Broadway in Plainview. I discovered the humorous, some Minnesota-themed, multi-message buttons on a day trip to this southeastern Minnesota community.
There’s a whole world of words awaiting discovery. A world that’s filled with so much to experience, delight in, ponder, learn from and more, if only we pause and take it all in.
PLEASE CHECK BACK as my year-in-review continues with July-December 2022.
A serene rural scene just north of Lamberton in southern Redwood County, my home county, shows the roots of my creativity in the prairie. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo October 2013)
I’VE ALWAYS SENSED within the artistic community an unwavering support of one another. A kinship in creativity. A connection sparked by the sheer act of creating, whether by words, by music, by paintbrush or pencil or camera or hands or…
Craig Kotasek crafted these letterpress print promo posters for his current show. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2022)
Well, Craig heard about my post, followed up with an email to me and then posted the kindest/loveliest/nicest review of my work on his website (click here). I am not only humbled by his generous words, but by his detailed gratitude for Minnesota Prairie Roots. He clearly understands me, my artistic and journalistic passions, my love for small towns and rural Minnesota, and my desire to share my discoveries.
Craig is just one example of how generous this community of creatives.
When we create, we share part of ourselves with the world. I cannot imagine not creating. That comes from a southwestern Minnesota farm girl who grew up with minimal exposure to the arts. No music lessons. No art classes. No gallery shows. No community concerts. Nothing outside the basic core of required class courses in middle and high school.
A snippet of the land my father farmed, my middle brother after him, on the rural Vesta farm where I grew up. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2013)
But what I lacked in the arts I found in the prairie landscape. In the unrelenting wind. In sunsets bold and beautiful. In snowstorms that washed all color from the earth. In wild pink roses pushing through road ditch grass. In the earthy scent of black dirt turned by a plow. I took it all in, every detail in a sparse land.
And I read. Laura Ingalls Wilder, pioneer girl from Walnut Grove only 20 miles distant. Nancy Drew with her inquisitive mind. Whatever books I could find in a town without a library.
Today I feel grateful to live blocks from a library. I feel grateful to have access to the arts. You will find me often posting about creatives on this blog. Creatives like Craig Kotasek of Tin Can Valley Printing. He’s a gifted craftsman and artist specializing in letterpress printing. What a talented community of artists we have in rural Minnesota. I feel grateful to be part of that creative community.
Baby Jesus stitched by my cousin Traci Sanford. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo)
SIX COUNTED CROSS-STITCH CARDS depicting the birth of Christ grace an aged chest of drawers anchoring a corner of my living room. I’ve leaned the cards against the backdrop mirror reflecting my Christmas tree.
These works of art visually tell the Christmas story minus a few important characters—Joseph and the Three Wisemen, who would later come bearing gifts. Perhaps those cards were lost. Or maybe my cousin Traci, who stitched the art, didn’t complete the series. She gifted my mom with these cards. One each Christmas.
A few years back, after Mom moved into assisted living and eventually long-term care, my extended family divided the Nativity sets our mother collected. And, among those I chose were these cards. My mom was also an avid counted cross stitch artist.
I cherish the stitched collection. Not only for its artistic value but also for the emotional connection to a mother celebrating her final Christmas on this earth. That is reality and I’ve reached a sense of peace in that certainty.
This Christmas, I hope you, too, experience peace. I hope you find a connection to those loved ones no longer on this earth via treasured memories or objects. I hope you feel connected also to those still here. To those who can still hear the words, “I love you.”
Words of thanks in the Psalms. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
ON THIS NATIONAL day of Thanksgiving, I realize that gratitude may feel elusive.
Perhaps you are mourning the loss of a loved one, grief shadowing your thoughts. Perhaps a loved one is seriously ill, near death. Maybe you are struggling with new or ongoing health issues. If this describes your situation, I’m sorry. Holidays like today, focused on family, can be hard, really hard.
We’ve all had those years when we’d rather skip the holiday for all the pain it brings.
But within and over and under and through and beside and between, gratitude can still find a way into our hearts. In photos. In memories. In a phone call or a text or a video chat. In time together, whether in-person or virtually. In a prayer offered. In a prayer received.
This Thanksgiving, I give thanks for you. For your support of my creative work. For the connections we’ve made, the friendships formed. For being part of my world. I value you. I count you among my reasons to give thanks, especially today.
A blessed and happy Thanksgiving to you and yours, dearest readers of Minnesota Prairie Roots!
I’m taking a bit of a break this week in my regular blogging. So please don’t worry because I’m not posting each weekday as is typical of me.
My focus now needs to be on other writing projects with deadlines in a few days. Those require my near full attention. I fell a bit behind when my father-in-law recently died and I couldn’t focus so much on writing. I still feel emotionally-drained from that and other challenges.
Be assured that I will be back soon to consistent weekday postings.
Thank you for continuing to follow Minnesota Prairie Roots, even when I pause briefly. I appreciate and value each of you and hope you are well.
TODAY I CONTINUE my photo review of 2020, selecting one image from each month, July – December, to highlight here.
Randy walks down the pine-edged driveway during our cabin stay with the grandchildren, Isabelle and Isaac.
In JULY, our family escaped into the peace and natural beauty of the central Minnesota lakes region, staying in a guest lake cabin on property owned by a sister-in-law and brother-in-law. Our eldest and her family and our son joined Randy and me. There, among the towering pines and next to a lake, we delighted in watching loons and the resident eagles. We played in and on the water, dined lakeside, sat around the campfire, made smores and so much more. The first evening, when the 4-year-old granddaughter declared she was “too excited to sleep,” Randy and I took her outside in her pajamas to view the star-studded night sky. Love-filled moments like these imprint upon my memory, reminding me how important my family is to me.
Messages cover several important and timely topics.
Spring and summer brought voices rising in protest, in strong strong words that resonated with so many, including me. In the small town of Dundas in AUGUST, I photographed banners posted on the windows of an aged stone house. Thoughtful. Powerful. Necessary.
Photographed at Grams Regional Park.
SEPTEMBER took Randy and me back to the family lake cabin for a second short stay, this time just the two of us. While en route, we stopped at Grams Regional Park in Zimmerman for a picnic lunch and hike through the woods. There I photographed a cluster of leaves. Autumn is my favorite season with its warm days, crisp evenings, earthy scents and hues of red, brown, orange and yellow. I never tire of looking at and photographing leaves.
The grandchildren follow Randy on a path at River Bend Nature Center while I trail behind with my camera.
In OCTOBER, the grandchildren stayed overnight with us and we took them to River Bend Nature Center. To walk, and sometimes run (with the grandparents trying to keep up). Again, it is the memories of time spent with those I love most that caused me to choose this image as a favorite.
The light, the colors, the water…love this photo.
A lovely afternoon in NOVEMBER drew Randy and me to the Cannon River Wilderness Area between Faribault and Northfield. With camera in hand, as always, I photographed leaves in the Cannon River, an image that holds the beauty of the season, of the outdoors.
As the sun set in fiery hues, I photographed this shining star, a symbol of hope, of brighter days ahead.
Closing out the year, I photographed a line of decorated Christmas trees showcased in Faribault’s Central Park as part of the Drive-by Tree Display in DECEMBER. The trees later went to families in need. As the sun set, I aimed my camera lens toward tree toppers. I chose this photo because to me this shining star represents hope. Hope that comes in the new year as we leave behind a truly challenging 2020.
Photographed in September in the Atwood Neighborhood of Madison, Wisconsin.
I want to leave you with one final message: You are loved. I discovered this message posted along a bike trail in the Atwood Neighborhood of Madison, Wisconsin, near our son’s apartment. When life gets difficult, overwhelms and threatens to take away your joy, remember that you are valued, that others care, that you are not alone.
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
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