Perkins in Monticello advertised free pie. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
PIE. Who loves a good pie? I do.
A few months back while passing through Monticello on the way to a family reunion, I noticed an eye-catching FREE PIE MONDAY sign and cherry pie graphic on the window of Perkins® Restaurant & Bakery. It was enough to make me wish the day was Monday rather than Saturday.
I can’t tell you the last time I dined at Perkins, but it’s probably been decades. I prefer home-grown to chain restaurants.
Yet, the offer of free pie…
As far as I can tell, the 11 am – 9 pm free pie on Monday comes with the purchase of an entree. Reviews of Perkins’ pie point to good pie. I’d need to sample it to offer my opinion. Make that blueberry, please, or French Silk.
Now it’s your turn. If you’ve indulged in Perkins’ pie, how is it? Or where have you found really good pie? What’s your favorite type? This is, after all, pie season.
I’ve been published in 13 volumes of “The Talking Stick,” most recently In “Volume 31, Escapes.”(Photo by Colton Kemp)
AS A WRITER, getting published adds to the joy of the craft. I write because it’s my passion, one which I want to share.
I laid the latest copy of The Talking Stick atop a page in a Minnesota atlas to represent escape in a sense of place. Reading and writing also provide an escape. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
The newest opportunity to share comes via The Talking Stick 31—Escapes, the latest anthology released in September by Park Rapids area-based The Jackpine Writers’ Bloc. The Talking Stick, published now for 31 years, features a collection of creative nonfiction, fiction and poetry by Minnesota writers or those with a connection to our state. This year, editors chose 83 poems, 28 creative nonfiction stories and 18 fiction stories for publication from 82 writers. More than 300 submissions came from 140 writers.
The beginning of my story, “Barbershop Prompt.” (Minnesota Prairie Roots edited and copyrighted photo October 2022)
I’m delighted to announce that three of my submissions are included in Escapes. My story, “Barbershop Prompt,” won second place and a cash prize in creative nonfiction. “Plans” earned honorable mention in fiction. And my second fictional piece, “Between Sisters,” simply published.
My writing has published in all 13 of these “The Talking Stick” volumes. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
To have my work selected and honored by peers is, for me, reaffirming. This marks the 13th year my writing—a total of 13 poems, eight creative nonfiction stories and nine fiction stories—have published in The Talking Stick. I’ve earned seven honorable mentions and two second placings through the years. Every year I’ve entered this competition, my writing has published. That proves personally validating.
When I first ventured into penning fiction, I did so with hesitancy. My journalism education, background and experience rooted me in gathering information and reporting the facts with no bend to fictionalize. I didn’t know I could write fiction until I tried. And I found I rather enjoy this type of writing. It stretches my creativity in a way that traditional factual writing doesn’t. Yet, even when I write fiction, there is some truth within. I weave into my writing (often in subtle ways) that which I know or care about or which has touched me. I expect most fiction writers would say the same.
Partial winning credits in fiction and the judge’s bio. (Minnesota Prairie Roots edited and copyrighted photo October 2022)
My award-winning short story, “Plans,” focuses on abuse within a family. Abuse has not been my personal experience. But it runs rampant in society. “Plans” focuses on abuse from the perspective of Henrietta, or Henri as her father calls her. He wanted a son, not a daughter. I’m not revealing more except to say the story leaves the reader wondering. And that’s exactly as The Talking Stick editors intend. Submission guidelines call for focusing on short forms, on compressed creations which hint of a longer, more complex story. You get that in my 457-word “Plans.”
Here’s, in part, what fiction judge Bonnie West said about my short story:
What a good story. Very clever, but also very poignant and surprising! Thanks for this delightful and entertaining revenge story!
Bridge Square Barbers, the inspiration for my award-winning story. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo August 2022)
I definitely appreciate West’s comment and that of creative nonfiction judge Marge Barrett. She evaluated “Barbershop Prompt,” praising the energy and cleverness of my story. A sign I spotted in the front window of Bridge Square Barbers by Bridge Square in Northfield prompted me to write this. I am an observer, someone who notices details. That often inspires. Like my winning fiction story, this fact-based story leaves the reader wondering, wanting more. The same can be said for “Between Sisters.”
The Talking Stick is an incredible collection of outstanding writing and I’m honored to be included with so much other Minnesota talent. Each year I see familiar names repeated, but then new voices, too. The small editorial team from the Jackpine Writers’ Bloc deserves recognition also for their hard work. This anthology truly is a labor of love. I’m grateful for their appreciation of Minnesota writers and for their dedication to the craft of writing.
Colton Kemp, a reporter for the Faribault Daily News, wrote a feature on me which published in the Saturday, October 8, edition. I encourage you to read that also by clicking here. I am grateful for Colton sharing my story and for the opportunity to connect with him, another individual passionate about writing.
Seeking help in Monticello. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
THIS MORNING IN READING one of two daily devotionals, I was reminded of the need to help others. The referenced scripture, Leviticus 25: 35-37, published with the October 6 Our Daily Bread devotion, brought back a scene which unfolded recently in Monticello.
On our way home from a short stay at a family member’s central Minnesota lake cabin, I spotted a woman holding a sign along State Highway 25 just before the Interstate 94 overpass. She stood in a center island, at a stoplight, traffic swarming around her. Her sign, with many misspellings, requested help for her and her three children. Help to pay for food and rent. Basic needs.
I felt in that moment a sense of compassion, yet an inability to aid this woman. And, I admit, I also felt a bit of uncertainty, a hesitancy, a questioning of whether she truly was in need. That reaction bothers me. Why couldn’t I simply trust the truthfulness of her request?
That brings me back to Leviticus, chapter 25, verse 35:
If one of your countrymen becomes poor and is unable to support himself among you, help him as you would an alien or a temporary resident, so he can continue to live among you.
That’s a powerful directive. Help him, or in the case of the woman in Monticello, her. Whether you are a person of faith or not, the Bible holds important messages that today fit the definition of “social justice.” Compassion. Mercy. Grace.
Not all of us are in a financial position to assist with gifts of money. But there are many other ways to help our friends, family, neighbors and, yes, even strangers. Encourage via kind and supportive words—written or spoken. I like to send uplifting cards with handwritten notes of encouragement. Pray. Engage in conversation, mostly listening. It’s about taking the focus off ourselves and placing it on others. Educate yourself via reading, attending community events that enlighten and more. Volunteer.
The woman in Monticello, even though I couldn’t aid her, gives me pause to reflect. So many people are struggling. With health issues, relationships, finances, simply trying to meet basic needs. Throw in the current divisiveness in this country, an ongoing pandemic, worldwide threats and conflicts, and the situation can feel overwhelming. Yet, we are all capable of doing something. Of reaching out with compassion and care. Of connecting. Of encouraging, supporting, uplifting in some way, large or small, that shows our humanity.
TELL ME: In what ways have you helped others, whether family, friends or strangers? Specifics are especially welcome.
A stunning treeline along Cannon City Boulevard just outside Faribault city limits. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
ANOTHER DAY OF SUNSHINE and unseasonably warm temps here in southern Minnesota prompted Randy and me to once again hit the road in search of fall colors. This time we headed into eastern Rice County, following backroads in the Cannon City and Nerstrand areas with a lengthy stop at Valley Grove Churches.
The historic Valley Grove churches,rural Nerstrand, photographed from the prairie. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
Immersed in the Valley Grove prairie, I viewed the Big Woods. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
A spectacular view from the Valley Grove Cemetery right next to the churches. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
At those historic hilltop churches, we followed prairie trails until we reached the highest point. There we stood, impressed by the distant Big Woods treeline colored in the hues of autumn. Valley Grove is one of our favorite spots in any season, but especially when the leaves are morphing color.
Driving through Nerstrand Big Woods. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
Our drive also took us on the road slicing through Nerstrand Big Woods State Park. We didn’t stop, simply enjoyed driving under a canopy of trees evolving in color. They have not yet reached their prime.
Driving through the woods on Farmer Trail. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
As always, Farmer Trail (off Falk Avenue) drew us in. This secluded road twists and turns among the maples and seems a well-kept secret. Thick woods edge the gravel road on both sides. I feel sheltered here, as if I’ve briefly entered some magical place.
The rolling hills around Valley Grove are especially colorful. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
This time of year in southern Minnesota truly feels magical given the remarkable beauty found in trees shifting from green to yellows, reds, oranges and browns.
The view from City View Park is breath-taking. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
My community of Faribault is ablaze and still erupting with color. City View Park on the east side overlooks the city, offering a vista view. The Shattuck-St. Mary’s clock tower always focuses my eye when taking in the city below and beyond.
Crossing the viaductfrom Faribault’s east side, fall colors splash into the city landscape. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
Even traveling down the viaduct into downtown impresses in the autumn. There’s so much to see locally in autumn colors whether along a city street, an area lake, a back country road.
If there’s anything I want to impress, it’s that all of this—this autumn color spreading across the landscape—is right here in Faribault, in Rice County, in our backyard. I don’t know if everyone realizes that. I also want to impress that the days of autumn are fleeting. A cold front is moving in along with wind. Now is the time to get out there and view the fall colors, at least locally.
The beginning of our day trip took us west out of Faribault along back county roads. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
AUTUMN POPPED COLOR—brilliant oranges, reds, yellows—into the landscape on an October day as beautiful as they come here in southern Minnesota.
Harvesting beans along Le Sueur County Road 12. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
Throughout Rice, Le Sueur and Nicollet counties, leaves are rapidly changing, splashing hillsides, groves, shorelines and other stands of trees in spectacular seasonal hues.
Photographed at the public boat landing on Horseshoe Lake just off Rice County Road 14 by Camp Omega. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
Randy and I headed on a fall color drive Monday morning, referencing the DNR Fall Color Finder guide promising plenty of colorful leaves to the west. Hours of traveling mostly county roads (including gravel) through the southern Minnesota countryside on our day-long drive provided incredible leaf viewing.
The distant shoreline of Horseshoe Lake blazes fiery colors. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
Retracing our exact route through Rice and Le Sueur counties and a small section of Nicollet County would be nearly impossible. But we started out by heading west on Rice County Road 12, eventually following CR 14 to Horseshoe Lake by Camp Omega. The public boat landing there was our first stop to view a lakeside treeline ablaze in fiery hues.
Crops ripen against a farm site backdrop in Le Sueur County. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
It wasn’t just the trees that drew my eye. I love, too, the acres of corn and soybeans drying under the autumn sun. The muted gold of corn leaves adds to the sense of seasons shifting.
A grain truck holds the harvest along Le Sueur County Road 12. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
Harvest is well underway with combines and grain trucks in fields. I appreciate the rural landscape any time of year, but especially now as farmers bring in the crops.
Cattle in a pasture along CR 101 on the way to the Kasota Prairie. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
From fields to farm sites (especially barns) to roadside vegetable stands to cattle in pastures, I found myself reconnecting with my agrarian roots, my prairie roots, while on this day trip.
A memorable message marks the entrance to the Kasota Prairie. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
Fiery hillsides of trees edge the Kasota Prairie in the distance. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
A lone cedar stands atop a hill on the Kasota Prairie. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
Near Kasota, we turned onto Le Sueur County Road 101 off CR 21 and took a winding gravel road about five miles to the Kasota Prairie. It was worth the dusty road, the meandering drive, to reach this grassland. As we pulled into the parking lot and hiked an uneven dirt trail into the prairie, I stopped multiple times to photograph the distant treeline painted in shades of mostly orange, red, brown… This prairie is a must-see, oh, so lovely, showcasing backdrop trees that hug the Minnesota River.
Colorful treelines can be seen along both sides of US Highway 169. Stunning. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
Color in the Minnesota River Valley is near-prime. Originally, we’d intended to tour Mankato, but shifted gears when I learned that my poem, “The Mighty Tatanka,” is not yet posted as part of The Mankato Poetry Walk & Ride. Instead, we drove to St. Peter and took US Highway 169 north out of town. And wow, oh, wow. The colors along the stretch of highway from St. Peter to Le Sueur, especially, are spectacular. This is a must-drive right now. Don’t wait. Not one day. Not two days. Go now.
A memorable barn because of its copper-hued roof. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
Heading east on Minnesota State Highway 19 toward New Prague, we turned south at Union Hill and shortly thereafter took a gravel road to State Highway 13, then turned onto Le Sueur County Road 145, landmarked by a barn roof the color of copper set against an autumn backdrop of trees.
A road sign that fit the day’s purpose, to view leaves. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
If I remember correctly, this farm site is along Leaf Trail. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
Heading back toward Faribault, another stunning treeline next to a cornfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
More gravel roads, including one appropriately named Leaf Trail, and blacktop eventually led us to Millersburg and aiming home to Faribault mostly along CR 46. Interstate 35 may have been a better choice for fall colors based on the colorful trees spotted there on Sunday between Faribault and the first Lakeville exit.
A view of Lake Washington from the public boat landing. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)
But by then it was late afternoon, many road miles later with stops at lakes and the prairie and a park for a picnic lunch. We’d had a full day. A day full of autumn in Minnesota at its best. Warm. Mostly sunny. And ablaze in colors, the reason I so love this season.
The White Barn Boutique, rural Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
IF NOT FOR A ROADSIDE SIGN noticed while on a fall color drive in northern Rice County, I wouldn’t have landed at The White Barn Boutique by Circle Lake. But the sign drew Randy and me to turn onto a narrow gravel road curving to a white barn and silo edged between trees. As Randy pulled our van onto a grassy parking space bordered by a colorful string of flags, I remarked, “Maybe they have antiques.”
An inviting scene on the second level, at the top of the stairs. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
Admittedly, the word “boutique” doesn’t appeal to most guys, so I appreciate that Randy was willing to stop. I was right. The White Barn includes plenty of antiques, collectibles and vintage, enough to hold the interest of anyone who appreciates treasures of yesteryear.
Flowers bloom aside the barn. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
The welcoming entry to the barn. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
A scene staged under a tree. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
Even before I opened the barn door adorned with a simple, seasonal wheat wreath, I felt welcomed, interested, impressed. An array of tables, chairs, flowers and other items outside hint at what’s inside.
Art can be found everywhere. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
Most boutique owners, like Susie Morrison, the talent behind The White Barn, are not only business savvy but creative. I observed that inside and out in the artful display of merchandise, the vignettes, the purposeful groupings… When creatively staged, it’s easy to imagine a piece of furniture, an accessory, glassware, textiles, even a vintage phone or a collection of Hardy Boys books in your home.
Sunlight floods the upper level merchandise displays. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
Merchandise packs this barn on two levels. While I began meandering through the cozy areas crafted in a once open space, Randy chatted it up with one of Susie’s sisters. Three of the Benjamin sisters were on-site at the seasonal fall boutique open Friday and Saturday and then next weekend, October 7 and 8, from 10 am – 5 pm at 3175 122nd Street West Faribault, two miles off Interstate 35 in the Millersburg area between Faribault and Northfield. December brings a holiday boutique here with other sales during the year.
Even a vintage card box makes for interesting art. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
While engaging in conversation, Randy and I realized we’d been on this property decades ago for a company picnic and overnight camping when the sisters’ parents lived here. There was that sense of familiarity, yet time has a way of fading memories.
The colors and the tabletop phone remind me of the 1970s. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
An artfully draped vintage linen reminds me of Grandma. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
The vibrant floral on this chair caught my eye. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
In some ways, shopping at The White Barn is about memories, about nostalgia, about reclaiming the past. It’s like walking into Grandma’s house or into a scene from the 1970s…the remembering, the imagining, the desire to bring this all home.
Fall colors found in floral art. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
Shopping here is an experience, an unexpected one for us on this autumn afternoon, if not for that roadside sign diverting us from emerging fall colors to a white barn along a rural road.
Directions for parking. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
TELL ME: Do you have a favorite seasonal boutique in your area? If yes, what draws you inside?
A wave of cattails signal Autumn’s entrance. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
IN THIS SEASON OF EARLY AUTUMN, the landscape of Minnesota transitions to subdued, muted, softer tones flashed with vivid orange, yellow and red in tree lines or a solitary tree. This time of year truly marks a change as we ease toward Winter, a season devoid of color.
Goldenrods. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
A hillside of drying grass contrasts with the looming grey sky. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
Grasses tower high above me. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
A month ago, before Summer exited, I already observed Autumn’s entrance at River Bend Nature Center in Faribault. Stands of cattails. Groups of goldenrod. Seas of drying prairie grass. All signaled the shift to September days.
I’m sure this scene has changed in the month since I photographed it. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
I love this time of year. Sunny days give way to cool evenings to brisk mornings. I’ve pulled the flannel from the closet. I embrace the feeling, the glory, of each day, recognizing such days are fleeting.
Rustic signs, which I love, mark the trails at River Bend. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
But weeks before this end of September, I delighted in the final days of August with that short walk through the woods at River Bend, then along a grass-lined trail to the hilltop Prairie Loop before I retraced my steps.
A stem of grass bends in the wind. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
Prairie grasses, looming well above my head, bent in the wind. I noted the gracefulness of the stems’ movement, the details on a single stalk. If you’ve ever paused to study a stalk, it’s almost like reading a poem. Grain after grain after grain ladders a slim line. In poetry, each word ladders into a line, into a verse, into a poem.
In the light of an August afternoon, a Monarch butterfly feeds upon the flower of a thistle. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
In the flashlight of the afternoon at River Bend, I spotted a lone Monarch flitting among thistles, black-outlined orange wings contrasting with the soft purple of the bloom. A metaphor. Or perhaps a simile when penned poetically. Poem upon poem upon poem.
Lush leaves veined by the August sun. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
Autumn edits out Summer, eliminating the excess wordage of a season that is lush and full and busy. Now the lines of the season shorten, every word carefully chosen, a harbinger of what lies ahead. Winter. Sparse. Barren. Cold.
I followed this path from the woods, across the low lands to a hilltop overlooking the prairie. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
But until then, Autumn settles in with the familiarity of a worn buffalo plaid flannel shirt. With the familiarity of cattails and milkweed bursting. Goldenrods. Tall prairie grasses drying, moving toward dormancy. I’ve seen this shift every September for past sixty years now. Yet I never tire of the shift, the change in seasons here in southern Minnesota.
OF ALL THE BOOKS I could have pulled from the “new fiction” section at Buckham Memorial Library, I chose, among others, one by a Minnesotan. But not until I was several chapters into the book did I flip to the back pages for information about the author, Barbara A. Luker.
I was delighted to learn that Luker hails from St. Peter, a college town in the Minnesota River Valley some 40 miles west of Faribault. To discover another Minnesota writer always pleases me. Luker works full-time for the City of St. Peter and is fairly new to writing books.
It was the title and the simple cover art—a small cut-out heart-shaped cookie next to a larger one—that first drew my eye to I Carry Your Heart. I bake similar plain heart-shaped cookies from my mom’s Cream Cheese Roll-out Cookies recipe each Valentine’s Day. Yes, cover art and titles matter to me given all the books out there. And this art connected to me personally.
Then I turned to the back cover for the story summary. The plot sounded interesting enough to add the book to those already stashed inside my cloth Boomerang bag reserved for library check-outs. I Carry Your Heart, a title taken from e.e. cummings’ poem of the same name, is, as you might guess, a love story. And, yes, there’s romance, a genre I don’t typically read and which made me blush.
This book is truly a tender, multi-layered love story. Not only of romantic love, but also of family love and community love and the sacrifices sometimes made for love.
This is a generational story that takes the reader back in time to reveal secrets kept by Abigail Lillian Peterson Ward. When she dies unexpectedly, her granddaughter, whom Abigail appointed to sort through her belongings, uncovers another side, another truth about her Nan.
The story felt somewhat predictable to me. Yet there were enough twists to surprise me at times and certainly to hold my interest to the end.
I appreciate also the Minnesota influence in the writing. The author shows her roots, for example, in the fictional town described as like a Norman Rockwell painting by one character. In my mind I pictured Luker’s hometown of St. Peter. I could also envision the church ladies serving a luncheon after Abigail’s funeral and the turkey commercials served in her restaurant. Both are, oh, so Minnesotan (although I’m more familiar with a beef commercial). Details like that add authenticity.
All in all, I Carry Your Heart proved a good read, even if in a genre I don’t typically choose.
A paper sunflower dangles from the ceiling in a space at the Owatonna Arts Center. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
YELLOW, TALL AND DRAMATIC, the sunflower exudes strength and happiness. I love this flower, so prevalent now in the Minnesota landscape.
Paper sunflowers add a sunny element to an already sun-drenched seating and exhibit area at the Owatonna Arts Center. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
But this year especially, this strong, simple, sunny flower symbolizes much more than the end of the growing season, the ripening of crops, the transition into autumn. The sunflower, as we’ve come to learn this year, is the national flower of Ukraine, the symbol of peace.
In historic downtown Faribault, sunflowers crafted from milk jugs brighten the window of Fashions on Central, a women’s clothing and accessories shop operated by the Faribault Senior Center. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
Every time I see a sunflower now, I think of the people of Ukraine and the war that still rages there. I remember watching, in the first days of the Russian invasion, media footage of people fleeing the country, people who looked very much like the average Minnesotan. And I thought, this could be us, this could be me.
Sunflowers flourish on a fence panel by a community garden plot in Madison, Wisconsin. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2020)
As the war goes on and on, it is easy to move onto the next headline, to forget about the horrors, the atrocities, the death, the destruction and displacement happening in Ukraine. But then I see a sunflower and I am once again reminded of the suffering in Ukraine, of the elusiveness of peace.
I photographed these sunflowers last autumn at Apple Creek Orchard, rural Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo October 2021)
Here in Minnesota, sunflower fields draw families into mazes under bold blue autumn skies. It’s all about the experience and making memories and photo ops among sunny flowers. Thoughts are far from Ukraine in those moments. But even then, in imagining the scene, I see yellow and blue, the colors of the Ukrainian flag. And my thoughts shift back to the people of Ukraine and those who love them, including people right here in Minnesota. In Pittsburgh. Throughout the world.
This LOVE mural in Northfield includes sunflowers among the featured flowers. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2021)
This year, the sunflower has also evolved to symbolize resistance, unity and hope. We’ve certainly seen that happening in Ukraine. Hope is a powerful word, one I’ve latched onto through challenging times. Hope infuses strength. And hope grows sunflowers that rise tall and dramatic in the landscape, their sunny heads turning toward the light of peace.
A sampling of Shefland’s photography at the OAC exhibit.
AFTER VIEWING ALAN SHEFLAND’S“Architecture AbstrAcTED” photography exhibit at the Owatonna Arts Center, I felt inspired. Inspired to shoot a few architectural images of my own while roaming the West Hills Campus, home to not only the arts center, but also an orphanage museum, city offices and more.
I took this photo of the OAC entry.I converted the image to black-and-white and upped the contrast. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
Shefland’s appreciation of the lines, angles, curves, light of buildings resonates with me. I, too, am fascinated by the seemingly abstract art to be found in architecture. These are not just structures constructed for a purpose, but rather art forms.
Shefland’s artist statement posted with his OAC exhibit. (Minnesota Prairie Roots photo)
This New York City born photographer, who is widely-traveled, focuses on the skyscrapers, the city buildings that rise high in the landscape. His current black-and-white photo exhibit features images from New York, Toronto, Minneapolis and more. Today he calls Minnesota home.
This shows a snippet of a much larger photo by Shefland.
Patterns and lines and curves meld to create remarkable abstract images. Modern art. Devoid of color, their impact is stronger, bolder.
My edited photo of an OAC sign. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
As I paged through the gallery guestbook, I agreed with the comment “Awesome exhibit…worth the drive from Mpls!” I only had to travel 12 miles. I feel fortunate to have access to art exhibits like this locally, without going into the Twin Cities metro.
One more glimpse of images you will see in Shefland’s OAC exhibit.
I am not an urban person. I am not well-traveled. Major cities hold no appeal. Yet, I can appreciate that others value densely-populated areas and all they offer. We are each different and that’s a good thing.
I photographed this exterior stairway on the West Hills campus after viewing Shefland’s exhibit. I love the patterns, the angles, the shadows, the light. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
Yet, as different as we are, we share interests, like photographing architecture. For Shefland, it’s the architecture in cities. For me, it’s the architecture of small towns. Historic buildings or other structures that catch my interest.
To view Shefland’s photos is to grow my knowledge, my appreciation, my respect for creatives like him. He expands my world, personally and professionally. I can say the same for Keith Goldstein, a talented photographer from New York City. I’ve followed Keith’s blog, “For Earth Below,” for many years. His work is currently exhibiting in Milan. The scope of his photography ranges from architectural to streetscapes to street portraits and more. In a recent photo, he featured colorful Fruit Loops cereal scattered across pavers. Simple. Artsy. Creative.
Shefland-inspired, my photo of a stairway and railing on the West Hills campus. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
I find joy in connecting with other photographers, whether online, via gallery exhibits or in-person. To see the world through their lenses enlightens, teaches, encourages me.
FYI: Alan Shefland’s exhibit at the Owatonna Arts Center continues until October 2. Gallery hours are 1 – 5 pm Tuesday through Sunday, closed Mondays and holidays.
Note: I de-saturated all of the images in this post and did minimal photo editing to up the contrast.
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
A commentary: Called to help others October 6, 2022
Tags: care, commentary, compassion, devotion, faith, helping others, Leviticus, Minnesota, Monticello
THIS MORNING IN READING one of two daily devotionals, I was reminded of the need to help others. The referenced scripture, Leviticus 25: 35-37, published with the October 6 Our Daily Bread devotion, brought back a scene which unfolded recently in Monticello.
On our way home from a short stay at a family member’s central Minnesota lake cabin, I spotted a woman holding a sign along State Highway 25 just before the Interstate 94 overpass. She stood in a center island, at a stoplight, traffic swarming around her. Her sign, with many misspellings, requested help for her and her three children. Help to pay for food and rent. Basic needs.
I felt in that moment a sense of compassion, yet an inability to aid this woman. And, I admit, I also felt a bit of uncertainty, a hesitancy, a questioning of whether she truly was in need. That reaction bothers me. Why couldn’t I simply trust the truthfulness of her request?
That brings me back to Leviticus, chapter 25, verse 35:
If one of your countrymen becomes poor and is unable to support himself among you, help him as you would an alien or a temporary resident, so he can continue to live among you.
That’s a powerful directive. Help him, or in the case of the woman in Monticello, her. Whether you are a person of faith or not, the Bible holds important messages that today fit the definition of “social justice.” Compassion. Mercy. Grace.
Not all of us are in a financial position to assist with gifts of money. But there are many other ways to help our friends, family, neighbors and, yes, even strangers. Encourage via kind and supportive words—written or spoken. I like to send uplifting cards with handwritten notes of encouragement. Pray. Engage in conversation, mostly listening. It’s about taking the focus off ourselves and placing it on others. Educate yourself via reading, attending community events that enlighten and more. Volunteer.
The woman in Monticello, even though I couldn’t aid her, gives me pause to reflect. So many people are struggling. With health issues, relationships, finances, simply trying to meet basic needs. Throw in the current divisiveness in this country, an ongoing pandemic, worldwide threats and conflicts, and the situation can feel overwhelming. Yet, we are all capable of doing something. Of reaching out with compassion and care. Of connecting. Of encouraging, supporting, uplifting in some way, large or small, that shows our humanity.
TELL ME: In what ways have you helped others, whether family, friends or strangers? Specifics are especially welcome.
© Copyright 2022 Audrey Kletscher Helbling