“Bring Some to Share” by Lili Lennox pops color onto the side of Midtown Plaza in downtown Willmar. The mural reflects the cultural diversity of Willmar celebrated through food and community. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2026)
PAGE THROUGH ANY MINNESOTA church cookbook, and you’ll find countless recipes for hotdish.
Leaving a gathering at the Kerkhoven Civic Center with a crockpot. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo June 2026)
Plate up at a Minnesota potluck and you’ll find countless crockpots, cake pans and glass bakeware brimming with hotdish.
Hotdish, a mixture of meat (usually hamburger); vegetables; pasta, rice or tater tots; a binding agent (often a can of cream soup); and sometimes cheddar cheese, is a Minnesota staple. We love our hotdishes, not casseroles, here in the North Star state.
Hotdishes brought to a recent family reunion, including Tater Tot Hotdish in the upper right corner. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2026)
Tater Tot Hotdish is our signature hotdish. Our unofficial state hotdish. The Minnesota Congressional delegation even holds an annual hotdish contest in Washington D.C. Politics are set aside all in the name of a friendly cooking competition among legislators.
In my community, a Hotdish Showdown and sampling are part of the annual Faribault Flannel Formal celebrating all things flannel in the deep of winter.
I seldom make hotdish, with the exception of Chicken Wild Rice Hotdish. But whenever I’m at a potluck, I’ll scoop up whatever creative concoctions cooks prepare.
Bars brought to the Kletscher family reunion. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2026)
Recently I attended my family reunion, an annual gathering of the descendants of Henry and Ida Kletscher. We arrived with our crockpots, our cake pans, our bowls, laying out a buffet of hotdishes, baked beans, salads, bars, desserts and more.
Hotdishes and other hot food prepared for the Kletscher reunion. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2026)
Laura, who raises beef with her husband, my cousin Greg, brought Beef Stroganoff. Mark brought the best baked beans, so delicious I had two helpings. David, as he always does, brought sauerkraut, a nod to our German heritage. And someone brought Tater Tot Hotdish.
A mandarin orange salad and fresh cucumbers served at the family reunion potluck. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2026)
I ate more than I should have. But, hey, how could I not sample the goodness my extended family prepared in their kitchens?
Days before the reunion, the topic of hotdish surfaced at a funeral. No, hotdish was not served as it often is at Minnesota post-funeral luncheons. Rather, hotdish recipes were featured in a family cookbook compiled by my former neighbor, Jan, then displayed at her funeral.
My neighbor Jan’s Tater Tot Hotdish recipe from her personal cookbook. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2026)
G-Jan, as she was known to her grandchildren, with the help of her daughters, pulled together favorite recipes to print and place in a small binder for family. Her recipe box was also displayed. Among those recipes, hotdish. Goulash. Italian Hotdish. And then the “KIDS LOVE IT,” Jan noted, Tatertot (sic) Hotdish.
The Belview Bar & Grill promoted the day’s specials, including Tater Tot Hotdish. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
No food truly says “Minnesota” more than hotdish. We take pride in this dish referred to as a “casserole” in other parts of the country. “Hotdish” sounds less stuffy, more down-home, a word that fits Minnesotans. Especially when you toss in tater tots.
College students walk past a public mural fronting a vacant lot in downtown Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
BETWEEN DIVISION STREET and the Cannon River in downtown Northfield across from the public library, an art installment stretches, hiding a fenced, vacant spot of land.
Barricades block entry to the historic Archer House, damaged by a 2020 fire and later demolished. The public art installation covers the length of the hotel. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2020)
Here the historic Archer House River Inn once stood, a sprawling complex of hotel and businesses until a November 2020 fire severely damaged the building. It was later demolished, leaving a gaping hole in the heart of this thriving southern Minnesota college town.
The back view behind the panels shows the foundation of the Archer House. The Northfield Public Library sits in the background across Division Street. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
Flash forward years later and a 170-foot long length of 17 individual mesh fabric murals now hang on fencing surrounding foundation remnants and earth. Until the land is developed, this public art installation hides an eyesore and stands as a tribute to the creatives in the Northfield community.
Northfield library staffers compiled a list of books by Northfielders, past and present, to incorporate into the panels. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
As a lover of both art and books, I appreciate this unique community endeavor to create something artistically beautiful and informative.
College students pass by the mural panels while I photograph the installation. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
The Northfield Public Library worked with local Latino artist Rocky Casillas Aguirre on the project, which features more than 100 books by Northfield authors showcased on bookshelves printed on fabric. Walking along the mural scanning the titles is almost like walking into the library across the street up the hill and searching for a book.
One of Aguirre’s characters reads “Giants in the Earth.” (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
As I followed the installation, photographing and reading book titles, I found books familiar and unfamiliar. Some are widely-known, like Giants in the Earth, a story about Norwegian immigrants homesteading in Dakota Territory during the 19th Century, by Ole E. Rolvaag. Or Minnesota Senator Paul Wellstone’s The Conscience of a Liberal—Reclaiming the Compassionate Agendas. He died in a 2002 plane crash.
Characters created by Rocky Casillas Aguirre mix with books by Northfielders. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
Then there are poetry collections by Northfield poets—Bridge and Division, We Look West… This is a community rich in poets, a city where poems imprint upon concrete in a Sidewalk Poetry project.
Some of the books by Northfield authors are specifically themed to Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
Other titles also drew my eye like A Field Guide to Northfield by Nancy Soth, Peace for Ukraine Coloring Book, Northfield Cocina: Local Latino Recipes and many more.
Lots of the artist’s cartoon characters are busy reading books. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
Beyond those 100 plus books featured in the art installation are the colorful characters Aguirre creates for his books, cartoons and stand alone art. They are interspersed among the titles—reading, interacting, resting, adding elements of color and interest.
Twitch, a magical campfire created by the artist for his own art, is incorporated into the murals. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
Aguirre, who has dealt with anxiety and depression, focuses his art on raising awareness about mental health, especially among youth. Twitch, a magical campfire, is among the characters he’s created and which can be spotted on the downtown mural.
Another view of the panels, looking south on Division St. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted
This artist, born in Mexico but raised in Northfield and a resident for more than 20 years, also worked with the local Latino community on another city-supported art project, “Dear Northfield.” He interviewed 100 local Latinos, among the 2,000 who live in the city, to get their insights on topics like housing, food, transportation and more. The result is a series of bi-lingual posters that inform, raise awareness and connect. “Dear Northfield” is currently displayed at the Northfield library.
Even the library has its own history book. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
I learned a lot by simply walking along the mural panels attached to fencing at the site of the demolished Archer House. I learned that Northfield has far more authors than I ever imagined. Authors who write in all genres.
Looking at the mural north along Division Street. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2026)
An overview of the art installation photographed through a second floor library window looking down on the Division Street scene. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)
I’m excited to see more and learn more. The visual arts are such a gift, whether hung on a fence screening a vacant lot or hung in a gallery inside an arts center. Art holds the power to move us, inform us, enlighten us and, sometimes, even to change us.
Among the many hands of the Faribault community, painted in a mural. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
WHAT ARE WE without community? The answer: alone.
We, at our very core, need each other. In times of celebration. In times of challenges. Even in times of great division. Without friends, family, neighbors and others, we are but individuals without community.
This mural was painted for and placed outside the Congregational Church in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
And in Faribault, among the many murals adorning public spaces in the downtown area, one piece of art stands out as representing community. That is a free-standing mural placed on the west side of the Congregational Church of Faribault United Church of Christ this past summer. It seems an appropriate focal point to end 2025 and begin the new year.
The artwork, created by Shirley Rainey and her son Jason, features outstretched arms rising from the earth against a backdrop red heart and blue sky. “The mural represents the importance of coming together to share burdens and triumphs, while reaching for our highest selves,” Rainey said in an artist’s statement.
Henna painted on a hand reflects Somali culture. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
I see that in the mural. But I also see a community of diversity. The Raineys show that in assorted skin tones, clothing, hand sizes and even henna painted on a hand. I love that about this art, this intentional, varied depiction of Faribault as it is—gloriously diverse.
That said, I am well aware of the racial tension (and that’s a tamped down word) in my community. I wish it didn’t exist, that we all got along, welcomed and embraced one another. We are, after all, just people who live, love, work, play, laugh, cry… The list of commonalities we share as humans goes on and on. Yes, we are different, too. But differences seen as negative, those we create.
The diverse hands of Faribault, up close, in the new community mural. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2025)
We can learn from that church painting. We can choose to love one another, as portrayed in the over-sized backdrop red heart. We can stand side-by-side and raise our hands to help one another. We can see, in those arms stretched skyward, the possibilities in building community. In that blue sky, we can envision not only our personal dreams, but the dreams of all who call Faribault home.
Faribault is a multi-cultural community, always has been. From early settlement days to today, people have come here from around the world to start anew. Whether French, Irish, German, Scandinavian, Latino, Asian, Sudanese, Somalian or any of many other ethnicities, this place has become home. We can choose to create community or not.
I hope in 2026 that Faribault can build a better, stronger, more unified community which celebrates our commonalities, and our differences.
A new mural on the side of Midwest Indoor Storage celebrates Farmer Seed & Nursery’s history in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)
THE FIRST PART of a three-pronged project honoring Farmer Seed & Nursery in Faribault has been completed. Recently a 20 by 24-foot mural, designed by local historian and creative Jeff Jarvis of West Cedar Studio and painted by Minneapolis artist Melodee Strong, was installed at Midwest Indoor Storage, site of the former nursery.
The new Farmer Seed mural hangs on an indoor storage building where Farmer Seed once stood. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)
The artwork hangs on a corner of the building’s west side, visible to eastbound passersby along Minnesota State Highway 60/Fourth Street.
A 1920s image of Farmer Seed from the Jeff Jarvis Collection. (Photo courtesy of Jeff Jarvis)
Vegetable art in a vintage seed catalog for sale at Keepers Antiques in downtown Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)
The beautiful, artsy cover of a 1921 Farmer Seed catalog found at Keepers Antiques. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)
The iconic Farmer Seed and Nursery multi-level complex once rose here, an identifiable community landmark business rooted in agriculture. With nearly a 130-year history in Faribault and company roots in Chicago dating to 1888, Farmer Seed was once noted for its local seed farms, seeds, mail order seed catalog, retail store and Christmas trees. I remember paging through the company’s catalogs while growing up on a southwestern Minnesota dairy and crop farm. From vegetables to flowers to shrubs and trees, Farmer Seed offered endless options for the everyday gardener, farmer and other growers.
Simple, bright, bold and memorable graphics define the mural. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)
Today the mural and a forthcoming kiosk and memory book will continue to celebrate this long-time Faribault business. In designing the mural, Jarvis kept it simple, focusing on the signature exterior signage that graced the historic building. He added a splash of color in a clutch of sunflowers, highly recognizable, he said, and a popular agricultural symbol.
The multi-paneled kiosk will stand on the corner of Fourth Street and Eighth Avenue. (Design rendering courtesy of Jeff Jarvis, WestCedarStudio.com)
Jarvis also created conceptual sketches for the planned corner kiosk and is developing an interior graphic panel display featuring company history, little-known products and personnel information.
The memory book cover designed by Jeff Jarvis of WestCedarStudio.com. (Courtesy of Jeff Jarvis)
Additionally, this keeper of local history is compiling a Farmer Seed memory book of stories, historical information and photos. Jarvis has included his own childhood story about a coveted Ant Farm purchased at the retail store by his mother and gifted to him at Christmas. He’s looking for more stories and encourages submission of those via a form on his website at https://westcedarstudio.com/farmer-seed-nursery-memory-book/. Once the stories are compiled they will be available to read for free on Jarvis’ studio website or as a printed copy for a fee.
On a recent rainy morning, I photographed the Farmer Seed & Nursery historic-themed bench along Faribault’s Central Avenue, among many history benches downtown. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)
I expect this trio of projects will be well-received in Faribault, where the 2018 closure, then sale and eventual complete demolition of the iconic Farmer Seed complex in 2023 raised public concern. I was among those who hoped the building, on the National Register of Historic Places, could be saved, a new use found for this long-time landmark. It was not to be. But the city, including the Heritage Preservation Commission, recognized the importance of preserving memories by requiring historical remembrance projects as part of the property sale, according to Jarvis. I’m grateful for that and for parts of the building that were salvaged for historical purposes.
Flocked Christmas trees for sale at Farmer Seed in 2014. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2014)
Today when I view the newly-installed mural, I think of my own Farmer Seed memories. Like so many others, those trace to Christmas. I loved to wander through the retail store to see all the trees decorated with ornaments. Sometimes my husband and I would buy our short needle short Christmas tree there. Not a flocked tree, which was a Farmer Seed specialty. One year we waited too long and, days before Christmas, got what I think may have been the last tree in town at a bargain price.
A page in a 1970 seed catalog at Keepers Antique Shop. In 1894 Farmer Seed moved to Faribault and started its seed growing operation here. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)
For many area residents, Farmer Seed holds a life-time of memories. Of seed catalogs. Of seed potatoes. Of seed packets. Of lilac bushes and Christmas trees. Of wood plank floors and a building rising high along highway 60, where an indoor storage unit and an under-construction apartment building now stand on land once rooted in agriculture.
Protesters stand along Minnesota State Highway 19 by Ames Park in Northfield during the June 14 NO KINGS protest. This is one of my favorite signs among the many held by hundreds of protesters. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2025)
I LEANED MY HEAD against Randy’s shoulder, my left hand gripping the rod of a protest sign and a small American flag. I felt such profound sadness in that moment. The moment when a pastor asked for a period of silence in honor of Minnesota State Representative/House Speaker Emerita Melissa Hortman and her husband, Mark, assassinated in their home during the early morning hours of June 14.
Flag Day. Nationwide NO KINGS protest day. A day of gathering turned tragic here in Minnesota.
A strong statement against a system of government by one person with absolute power. I suggest you look up these words, as I had to with some. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2025)
I alternated between leaning into my husband and leaning my bowed head against the bottom of my NO MORE KINGS protest poster held high, the sign with the cursive words, “I value freedom,” scrawled on the back side. The wind blew, swept my hair across my face like a veil covering sadness. The heaviness felt palpable here, in Ames Park in Northfield, along the banks of the Cannon River. But so did the energy.
This shows just a portion of the massive crowd gathered for Northfield’s NO KINGS protest. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2025)
We were a group of hundreds—maybe even a thousand (I’m not good at estimating crowd size)—gathered to publicly express our concerns about leadership in this country, about decisions being made that negatively affect all of us, about the state of and future of our democracy… It was my first protest. Ever. I wanted, needed, to be here. To remain silent seems complicit.
I’d already arrived when a friend texted that Minnesotans had been advised by state law enforcement not to attend NO KINGS protests. That warning linked to the suspect in the shootings of the Hortmans and of State Senator John Hoffman and his wife, Yvette. We would later learn that NO KINGS fliers were found in the vehicle of Vance Boelter, now accused in the double murders and attempted murders.
While your eyes may focus on the protest sign in the middle, look to the right. and this sign: IF NOT ME, WHO? IF NOT NOW, WHEN? (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2025)
That explained why, on the way to the riverside protest, I overheard a woman telling a couple that her police officer son had advised her not to participate in the rally. She was going home. I was not. Nor were any of the others converging on Ames Park at noon. I wasn’t scared. Vested safety people, trained in conflict resolution and de-escalation, were in place. I felt safe in the masses, which, I suppose, is an unrealistic perspective. But I refuse to be silenced by fear, by the words and actions of those who attempt to suppress voices. And intimidate.
And there were those, including the drivers of a white pickup truck and of motorcycles which repeatedly roared past the rally site, spewing their opposition in noise and in political flags bannering messages I won’t repeat. But they, too, have a right to protest. Peacefully. Just as I do. And I wrote that on the back of a second sign: FREE to PROTEST. But, mostly, passing vehicles honked in strong support.
So many positive messages promoting love, compassion, care, kindness… (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2025)
At this rally of people opposing the current administration and its policies and actions, I felt a unity of purpose and a deep, cohesive concern for the future of our country. I felt uplifted, embraced, empowered. Speakers spoke (although I couldn’t hear most). The pastor led us in prayer. We sang—”The Star Spangled Banner” and “We shall overcome.” We cheered. We chanted. We waved our posters and flags. And a group held an over-sized American flag, which I couldn’t see from my vantage point deep in the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd.
We were mostly an older group. Baby Boomers. Grandparents. Even octogenarians. Perhaps some protested during the Vietnam War. Or served this country. We’ve lived a few years, enough decades to understand that we need to rise up against authoritarianism. Enough to understand what’s at stake. But there were some young people, too, like the dad behind me with his preschool daughter playing in the grass. He clearly cares, if not for himself, but then for his child.
I saw this mural, “The Inheritance of Struggle,” inside the Memorial Student Union at the University of Wisconsin, Madison, Tuesday afternoon. It shows “the contributions made by people of various ethnicities and cultures in the form of tears, sweat, blood and life in the building of the United States.” It’s fitting for today, Juneteenth, and for NO KINGS day. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2025)
The morning after the NO KINGS protest, I left for Madison, Wisconsin, to spend time with my 5-month-old grandson (and his parents). As I snuggled Everett, I thought, he (and my other two grandchildren) are part of the reason I chose to protest. Their lives stretch before them. I want them to live in a country where they are free. Free. I want them to live under a government based on a three-pronged system of checks and balances, not one ruled by a king or some version of a king or dictator. I want them to live in a kind, caring and compassionate country. Not a selfish, uncaring, divisive nation filled with hatred.
I returned to Minnesota yesterday and am catching up on laundry and writing. And, along with my fellow Minnesotans, I’m collectively grieving the assassination of an elected official and her husband. And I’m thinking, this is what it’s come to in Amercia…
The historic post office in Northfield, Minnesota, holds an art treasure. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
OF ALL THE TIMES I’ve visited neighboring Northfield through the decades, I’d not once stepped inside the downtown Northfield Post Office. Until last May. I’ve frequented Bridge Square across the street, admiring the public art I often find outdoors in this park along the Cannon River. Yet, I never thought to look for art inside the impressive limestone structure angling around a corner of the town center.
The mural above a row of mailboxes was designed by Margit Carson Johnson. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
But inside the historic 1936 post office, I found a massive piece of public art designed by Northfielder Margit Carson Johnson. The commissioned work defines the essence of Northfield. The city is perhaps most famously known for the townspeople’s defeat of the James-Younger Gang in September 1876 as the outlaws attempted to rob the First National Bank. Johnson’s 1986 mural, though, doesn’t show that. The entire bank robbery history can be learned a few doors down at the former bank site, now the Northfield History Center.
The Dakotah Wahpekute, also known as “Leafshooters,” were the original inhabitants of the land that would become Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
Rather, the mural on the east side of the post office lobby visually summarizes Northfield’s early history as home to the Dakota Wahpekute, then settlement as a farming (dairy and crop) and milling (flour and sawmills) community, followed by growth as a center for education (St. Olaf and Carleton Colleges), industry (including Post Consumer Brands cereal, formerly Malt-O-Meal) and tourism.
Farmers plowed the prairie grass to seed wheat. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
For anyone who knows little to nothing about Northfield, the folk art style painting completed by a team of volunteers is a good starting point to learn the basics about this community. It’s a visual Cliff Notes type of guide.
Founders John and Ann North are depicted in the painting of Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
Like many early Minnesota settlements, rivers and railroads determined the location for new towns. Northfield sits along the Cannon River, a source of water power for early milling and a route for trade. Today the river continues to center this community, creating a picturesque and engaging downtown core with businesses along Division Street backing to the river. A River Walk leads locals and visitors riverside to appreciate the natural beauty of water flowing through Northfield.
My favorite part of the mural, probably because I grew up on a dairy farm, shows Holsteins. The buildings are actual buildings in Northfield, including the historic Archer House, destroyed in a fire several years ago. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
I love Northfield, once promoted with the theme of “Cows, Colleges and Contentment.” It’s still that, although with fewer dairies than once defined the area. Today the local tourism website tags Northfield as “Close to Home/Far From Ordinary.” That fits, too.
A view of the River Walk and the historic Ames Mill (to the right in the distance) from the pedestrian bridge spanning the Cannon River in the heart of downtown Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2024)
Northfield ranks as a popular tourist destination with its James-Younger connection and its many home-grown shops housed in historic buildings in a downtown that fits the definition of “charming.” The setting is decidedly comfortable and homey and as picturesque as a Norman Rockwell painting. There’s a seasonal popcorn wagon in Bridge Square, anglers fishing along the river, an old-fashioned barbershop with barber pole…
Northfield’s much-beloved seasonal popcorn wagon at Bridge Square. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2024)
There’s a strong sense of community and of community pride in Northfield. Art matters here. From riverside murals to poetry imprinted upon sidewalks to artwork showcased inside the Northfield Arts Guild to theatre, concerts and much more (including at the two colleges) the arts flourish.
Beautiful Bridge Square, Northfield’s town center. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo August 2022)
And inside the aged, massive post office, once slated for closing, the folk art mural designed by Margit Carson Johnson stretches above a wall of mailboxes to reveal the core story of Northfield. From the Big Woods to the once glacial meltwater-fed Cannon River, from the Wahpekute to dairy farmers, from tallgrass prairie to the city it is today, Northfield thrives.
Wildflowers bloom on a mural along Main Street in Nerstrand. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
NERSTRAND, POPULATION 295, is one of those small towns where not a lot changes. Until something does, and then you notice.
The mural is painted onto a corner of WildWood of Nerstrand. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
On a recent drive through this community in far eastern Rice County, I noticed something new. A mural. The wildflower-themed painting stretches across a corner of a brick building marked as WildWood.
I found Jordyn Brennan’s signature down low on a lily stem. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
“Love for All,” a mural in Faribault that celebrates my community’s diversity. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
I felt a sense of familiarity with the artwork. And then I saw Jordyn Brennan’s signature climbing the stem of a dwarf trout lily. The Minneapolis artist’s colorful “Love for All” mural, complete with hands signing the word “LOVE” and plenty of flowers, covers a spacious exterior building wall in the heart of downtown Faribault.
Heading east out of Nerstrand, WildWood is located at 315 Main Street, next to Lake Country Community Bank. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
And now her work can be seen in the heart of downtown Nerstrand on WildWood, a restored brick building housing an event space and photography studio. I peered through the window of the locked front door to see more brick and wood. Lovely. Rustic. Down-to-earth visually appealing.
The mural adds an inviting nature-themed backdrop to The Wilderness green space. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
Tricia and Nick Streitz, with the help of family and friends, worked many years to renovate the space, which previously housed a woodcraft business and was then used for storage. Tricia’s business, Sweet Shibui Photography, is now located in a portion of the historic building. The rest is available to rent for gatherings in the 1,800 square foot The Great Room and outdoors in the 2,400 square foot The Wilderness green space.
A Monarch caterpillar spotted among the flowers. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
A bumblebee feeds on a coneflower. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
Way down low on the mural, near the ground, I found this ladybug. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
But on this Saturday afternoon in late October, I focused on the mural of coneflowers, dwarf trout lilies, sunflower, butterfly weed and several other wildflowers unknown to me. I found a Monarch caterpillar, Monarch butterfly, dragonfly and bumblebee interspersed among the florals, almost missing a ladybug.
The mural is on the left side of the WildWood building. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
I love public art, especially in small towns where art is often not easily accessible. This mural splashes color into the few blocks that comprise Nerstrand’s downtown business area. But the mural is also a backdrop for The Wilderness outdoor gathering space. I can easily envision family and friends gathering here and on the concrete patio to celebrate a small wedding, an anniversary, a graduation, a baby or bridal shower, whatever brings people together in life’s celebratory moments. Yard games are part of the package rental. WildWood is hosting an indoor/outdoor Makers Market from 9 a.m. – 1 p.m. Saturday, November 16.
That’s the rare dwarf trout lily to the far left in this section of the mural. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
This day I celebrated the discovery of the wildflower mural on the side of a new business in town. The over-sized art honors nature, including the endangered dwarf trout lily, which only grows in three places (Rice, Steele and Goodhue counties) in the world. That includes in Nerstrand Big Woods State Park just to the west of town.
The WildWood name fits given the nearby Big Woods and Tricia Streitz’s backstory. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
Even the name of the business, WildWood of Nerstrand, is decidedly appealing for the images it brings to mind. A favorite young adult book and treasured childhood memories of playing in the woods inspired the name, Tricia Streitz shares on the company website. Hers is a poetically-beautiful story. Imagine children running free, into the woods, building forts, climbing trees…
A Monarch butterfly lands on a coneflower in Jordyn Brennan’s mural. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
All of this I learned following a drive into a small Minnesota town, a town where not much changes. Until it does. I noticed the change. Stopped. Embraced the beauty of that wildflower mural, public art that reaches beyond art to connecting community in a celebratory space.
LOONS, LEATHER, LITERARY ART…, oh, the work of creatives who set up shop Saturday at Faribault’s annual Straight River Art Festival. It’s an event that always impresses upon me the incredible talent of those who create with their minds, their hands, even their voices.
A hand-tooled sunflower mandala circle crossbody purse crafted by Susan McCabe of Lake Agassiz Leathers LLC. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
Mankato author Jason Lee Willis brought a selection of his Minnesota-themed historical fiction books. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
Los Tequileros played a mix of music during the art festival. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
One photographed loons. Another crafted goods from leather. And an author represented the literary arts in his books of historical fiction. Several bands played, bringing in the performing arts.
Vendor tents ringed and filled the park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
This fest, held in Heritage Park against a scenic backdrop of trees and limestone bluffs aside the Straight River near downtown, is a lovely setting for meandering among vendor tents, viewing art, chatting with artists and enjoying the Minnesota outdoors.
Bea Duncan Memorial Fountain centers Heritage Park, site of the art festival. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
A fountain sculpture depicting town founder Alexander Faribault trading with a Dakota man centers the park, adding an historic, artsy element.
An acrylic painting by Peggy Paulson of Prairie Creek Art, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
Original textile design art done with a serti-batiktechnique by Suz Klumb of Brigg Evans Design. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
Like most arts festivals, this one featured a variety of art, this year from 30-plus creatives. I saw pottery, fabric and textile, batik, acrylic paintings, photography, stained glass, jewelry, fiber soft sculptures, handcrafted glass botanicals and more. Much more.
Vivid colors. Textures. Earthen hues. Stitching and sculpting. And shaping. An assortment of art appealing to assorted interests. It was all there.
Mural painting at the Straight River Art Festival. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
There were activities for kids also, which I always appreciate since it’s important to engage families. The Paradise Center for the Arts offered hands-on art. Books on Central, a used bookshop in downtown Faribault run by Rice County Area United Way, handed out free picture books to little ones. And on a section of blocked off street, visual artist Stephen McKenzie laid out a mural for the community to paint. It’s on display now inside the Bachrach building along Central Avenue.
The center of the mural. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
The mural is bold and vibrant, engaging and beautiful, reflecting nature. It reflects, too, a sense of togetherness, that we are all one on this earth, under one sun, all colors of the rainbow, surrounded by beauty.
Kids and adults work side-by-side to paint the community mural. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
Watching adults and youth working side by side, painting bold hues onto the mural design, I felt joy. Individuals worked as a cohesive team to create art. There’s something to be said for that in this time of much divisiveness.
Paint inside a trailer used in painting the mural. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
Art brought folks together on Saturday to show and sell their art. But, more than that, the Straight River Art Festival builds community, energizes and connects creatives. There’s a certain vibe to an event like this that feels good, really good. But then again, I love art. And I deeply appreciate those who share it with us.
Terrace 1872, under development in September 2022 in downtown Marshall, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2022)
WHEN I PHOTOGRAPHED an under construction patio while visiting Marshall in mid-September, I wondered exactly what was up with this space. And then I forgot about it…until now.
The Lyon County Historical Society Museum, housed in a former library. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
It was a warm and sunny day when I happened upon the patio project in the heart of Marshall’s downtown business district. This ag-based community and college town sits on the southwestern Minnesota prairie, some 20 miles west of my hometown. I was back in the area to view two of my poems on display in the “Making Lyon County Home” exhibit at the Lyon County Historical Society Museum. After touring the museum, Randy and I did a short walk-about in a downtown that looks nothing like the downtown I remember from my last visit 40 years earlier.
During that brief tour, we came across the developing outdoor area. I was impressed by what I saw—by the well-laid pavers, the strong arched entry, the cluster of patio tables and chairs, and the then-unfilled planter bed. I envisioned plants and flowers adding a calming natural balance to hard surfaces.
An unreadable (to me) ghost sign speaks to Marshall’s history. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
My eyes saw all of this. But, still, I didn’t know the backstory until now. This is Terrace 1872, a public gathering space next to City Hall. It came to be after the former Marshall Hotel was demolished, leaving a narrow, empty lot. Local visionaries saw this as an opportunity to create a community gathering spot. And so it will be. And the name, well, Terrace is self-explanatory. But 1872 represents the year Marshall became a city.
A mural, “At the Bend of the Redwood,” sprawls across a business in the heart of downtown Marshall. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
I love this concept of an outdoor area downtown where visitors, shoppers and downtown employees can meet, relax, just be. I also envision Terrace 1872 as a site for pop-up events—mini art shows, concerts, poetry readings… The possibilities seem endless for this pocket park.
Plans are to add a sculpture or art piece to the terrace, enhancing a downtown already graced by murals. Online plans also show movable fire pits and patio lights strung between posts. I appreciate the vision of an inviting and welcoming space to gather.
Businesses across the street from Terrace 1872. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
I’d love to see my community of Faribault adopt Marshall’s Terrace 1872 idea and create a similar mini gathering spot in the heart of our downtown. We have many vacant lots left after buildings were demolished. Previously demolished buildings were replaced by parking lots. Faribault now needs some greenery and additional outdoor public art infused into downtown, creating a peaceful place for people to gather, connect, relax, grow a sense of community while outdoors. I hope the visionaries here follow Marshall’s lead…
TELL ME: Do you have a Terrace 1872 in your community or have you seen one in another community? I’d love to hear details.
A graphic on a recycling dumpster in Northfield inspires. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
JUST INSIDE OUR GARAGE, a green plastic tote rests on a shelf. It’s located a few quick steps from the kitchen door, providing easy access to our temporary recycling box. Once the box fills, Randy dumps the contents into the official hideous dark-blue-with-bright-yellow-lid plastic recycling bin. Every other week the refuse hauler picks up our recyclables for delivery to the Rice County Recycling Center.
The City of Northfield “Youth Live Green Recycling Team” program aims to get youth involved in recycling corrugated cardboard. Participating groups get monetary funds for monitoring the public recycling containers, keeping the area clean and informing the public about cardboard recycling. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
Now I should feel mostly good about that, right? I’m placing milk jugs and other plastics, cans, newspapers, envelopes, an excessive amount of campaign mailings, other paper products and more into recycling. I’m doing my part to keep stuff out of the landfill, to protect the environment.
Rules on a recycling container in Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
But when it comes to plastic, most of my efforts may be for naught, according to a recent report by the environmental education and awareness group Greenpeace. The nonprofit shared that less than five percent of recycled plastics are made into new products. Why? Simply put, it’s costly to collect and sort the plastics. I’m not surprised by that explanation. Money factors into most business decisions.
Youth and adults painted a mural on Just Food Co-op, Northfield. Among the themes, Mother Earth. Rice County Neighbors United led the grant-funded project. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
Yet, I’ll continue to recycle and hope for an environmentally-friendly shift in attitudes on both consumer and corporate levels. We as consumers need to consciously choose non-plastics. I’m as guilty as anyone else in not thinking often enough about what I personally can do to reduce my use of plastics, focusing on reduce before I focus on recycle.
Mother Earth in progress on the Just Food Co-op mural. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
What am I doing right? This has nothing to do with plastic, but rather with reducing energy use. I either line dry my laundry outdoors or indoors on drying racks, with the exception of sheets and towels in the brutal cold of winter. Come a 40-degree sunny January day, though, and you will find my laundry on the line, snow layering the ground.
Mother Earth a month later. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)
I also buy used. And I donate or give away—rather than toss—items I no longer need. The boulevard along our busy street has proven an ideal location to give away a swing set, bookcase, headboard, recliner and much more. Recently Randy and I hauled several purple dove tail drawers from a vintage school art table to a downtown shop, Lily of the Valley. The owner sells repurposed furniture, gifts, clothing and more in her boutique and I figured she could use the drawers to display merchandise or come up with some other creative use. We kept the maple top to possibly reuse ourselves.
Then there’s our yard. We live in a city with a compost center, a place to haul leaves and plants that are composted, basically recycled back into a nutrient-rich natural fertilizer for flowerbeds and gardens. This time of year we make multiple trips to the compost site to dump off mulched leaves fallen from the single tree on our property and from neighborhood trees. I feel good that we are keeping yard waste out of the landfill. I use some of the leaves as winter mulch for my flowerbeds.
A shopper rolls out her cart of purchases in reusable bags. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
Sometimes I use cloth tote bags while grocery shopping, but sometimes I don’t. I could do better.
Northfield’s recycling containers are outside two grocery stores. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
My efforts may not seem like much in the all of the environment. Yet, I know the recycling, the reusing, the things I do matter. What you do matters. Together we can make a difference by our choices.
TELL ME: Do you recycle? I’d like to hear more about your efforts to protect the environment.
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Reflections on diversity & growing community in Faribault December 30, 2025
Tags: art, commentary, community, Congregational Church of Faribault United Church of Christ, diversity, Faribault, Jason Rainey, Minnesota, multi-cultural community, mural, painting, reflections, Shirley Rainey
WHAT ARE WE without community? The answer: alone.
We, at our very core, need each other. In times of celebration. In times of challenges. Even in times of great division. Without friends, family, neighbors and others, we are but individuals without community.
And in Faribault, among the many murals adorning public spaces in the downtown area, one piece of art stands out as representing community. That is a free-standing mural placed on the west side of the Congregational Church of Faribault United Church of Christ this past summer. It seems an appropriate focal point to end 2025 and begin the new year.
The artwork, created by Shirley Rainey and her son Jason, features outstretched arms rising from the earth against a backdrop red heart and blue sky. “The mural represents the importance of coming together to share burdens and triumphs, while reaching for our highest selves,” Rainey said in an artist’s statement.
I see that in the mural. But I also see a community of diversity. The Raineys show that in assorted skin tones, clothing, hand sizes and even henna painted on a hand. I love that about this art, this intentional, varied depiction of Faribault as it is—gloriously diverse.
That said, I am well aware of the racial tension (and that’s a tamped down word) in my community. I wish it didn’t exist, that we all got along, welcomed and embraced one another. We are, after all, just people who live, love, work, play, laugh, cry… The list of commonalities we share as humans goes on and on. Yes, we are different, too. But differences seen as negative, those we create.
We can learn from that church painting. We can choose to love one another, as portrayed in the over-sized backdrop red heart. We can stand side-by-side and raise our hands to help one another. We can see, in those arms stretched skyward, the possibilities in building community. In that blue sky, we can envision not only our personal dreams, but the dreams of all who call Faribault home.
Faribault is a multi-cultural community, always has been. From early settlement days to today, people have come here from around the world to start anew. Whether French, Irish, German, Scandinavian, Latino, Asian, Sudanese, Somalian or any of many other ethnicities, this place has become home. We can choose to create community or not.
I hope in 2026 that Faribault can build a better, stronger, more unified community which celebrates our commonalities, and our differences.
© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling