Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Anything but a typical walk at River Bend Nature Center August 31, 2020

This path cuts through the edge of the prairie at River Bend Nature Center, Faribault.

 

AS RANDY AND I HIKE the paved trails through the woods and the grassy path edging the prairie at River Bend Nature Center in Faribault, we often see the same sights, have the same conversations.

 

Prairie wildflowers

 

These prairie grasses remind me of my youth, when I played in such grass on the southwestern Minnesota prairie.

 

My favorite prairie wildflower, the black-eyed susan.

 

I talk about my love for the prairie and for the wildflowers and for grasses swaying in a poetic rhythm in the wind.

 

Eradicating invasive buckthorn from the woods remains an ongoing battle.

 

We discuss the buckthorn that grows rampant in the woods despite efforts to control it via goats and hands-on removal.

 

Leaves are beginning to change color.

 

I observe details that hint at the changing of seasons.

 

Photographed in the rain garden by the interpretative center.

 

Not even a bumblebee escapes my notice or my camera’s lens.

 

The art of bark.

 

Dead trees, bark, moss and fungi draw me to pause and look. Nature is, after all, in the details.

 

The doe and her baby, barely visible behind her.

 

But on this Sunday afternoon visit, mosquitoes and other pesky bugs push us at a much faster pace along wooded paths. So fast that I miss the doe and her growing fawn just off the trail leading to the Turtle Pond. Randy spots the pair and softly calls my name, enough to cause me to stop. Then he points to the woods where the deer stand. Still. Watching. I fire off three frames before the pair turn and clip through the trees. Disappearing to camouflage themselves within the green and brown hues of the treescape.

 

The hawk blends easily into the woods.

 

A few twists and turns later, I am still speed walking, driven to hurry by those biting insects. But then a bird catches my eye and I stop, speak Randy’s name. He doesn’t hear, fails to the see the bird so blended is it into the trees. I snap one photo before the bird rises, wings spanned wide. It appears to be a juvenile hawk. I am pleased with the hawk and deer sightings because we seldom see wildlife here, other than squirrels.

 

The oddest sighting ever at River Bend, doll well above my head in a tree.

 

But earlier I spotted the most unusual sighting ever at River Bend—a baby doll suspended in a tree. I expect a child lost her beloved doll and someone found it and decided it would be funny to place the toy in a tree. I found it a bit creepy. Like I was walking into Halloween or a Stephen King novel.

 

The first sign in a series of bug signs bordering trails.

 

No-see-ums get their own page in the bug book.

 

The grasshopper, too, merits its place in the bug alphabet book.

 

Along the same pathway, River Bend staffers posted photocopies of pages from The Icky Bug Alphabet Book by Jerry Palloth. More creepiness if you are not a fan of bugs. I don’t dislike bugs unless they pester (flies) or bite me (mosquitoes and no-see-ums) or destroy my flowers/plants (Japanese beetles) or are centipedes. I detest those fast-moving, too-many-legged insects.

 

Info about the bumblebee from Pallotta’s book.

 

I found the bug book informative, which I expect was the intention, along with giving families something of interest to study while in the woods. The Northfield Public Library is doing a similar activity, posting picture book pages on posts in five public parks during August, calling these “Story Strolls.” In downtown Faribault, along Central Avenue, Buckham Memorial Library has also posted a Story Walk, featuring pages from Eric Carle’s Head to Toe. (I’ll post about that soon.)

 

I had not previously noticed this small sign near a tree by the interpretive center.

 

I appreciate nature centers like River Bend, now more than ever during this global pandemic. Living as we do today with so many limitations in our lives—and justifiably so—I’ve grown to understand that I shouldn’t take anything for granted. I am thankful I live in a region where I can find endless natural settings to simply immerse myself in the beauty, solitude and peace of the outdoors. Baby dolls in trees aside.

 

Note: I took these photos several weeks ago, so the landscape has likely changed and the baby doll may be missing.

 

© Copyright 2020 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

September at River Bend September 11, 2019

 

FIELDS OF GOLDENROD brighten the landscape—edging roadways, filling fields, erupting seemingly everywhere as summer slips ever closer to autumn in Minnesota.

 

 

 

 

A walk through River Bend Nature Center reveals hues of brown, orange, red and yellow. In leaves changing color. In fading flowers.

 

 

In mature milkweeds and drying prairie grasses.

 

 

In butterflies galore.

 

 

Days carry a visual impression of autumn. But also a feel of autumn. There’s a sense of urgency, of the need to be outdoors as much as possible.

 

 

Autumn marks my favorite of Minnesota’s seasons. So I carry my camera through Faribault’s sprawling nature center to take it all in.

 

 

 

 

The places marked by man with words of adoration.

 

 

The trails that trail through the woods.

 

 

 

 

And always the path cut through the prairie, where I imagine settlers of long ago crossing Minnesota Territory in covered wagons or slicing plow blades through sod or simply journeying westward into dreams.

 

 

These are my thoughts within this land set aside to preserve today for the dreamers of tomorrow.

© Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Poetic & healing thoughts inspired by a walk through River Bend June 4, 2019

 

RIVER BEND NATURE CENTER in Faribault offers a respite from reality, a place to envelope one’s self in nature by walking the wooded trails or the open prairie.

 

 

 

Here, within this place, nature writes poetry.

 

 

 

 

I read poetic words in signage and flowers and greenery.

 

 

 

 

 

In sky and landscape and vistas.

 

 

If I walk too quickly, I miss the poetic lines, the nuanced words that create a rhythm of peace in a chaotic world.

 

 

 

 

It takes discipline to slow down, to notice the descriptive details that hug the earth, that scent the air, that hide within the natural colors of the world.

 

 

How often do we as humans choose to hurry through our days, oblivious to those around us? I challenge each of you to slow down, to pause in the busyness of life and look outside yourself and your lives. See your co-worker. See your friend. See your neighbor. See your family member. Then reach out. Connect. Support. Rain your poetry of love upon others.

© Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A pleasant afternoon hiking & photographing at River Bend Nature Center until… April 10, 2017

 

SUNDAY’S UNUSUALLY WARM weather drew me back to Faribault’s River Bend Nature Center, this time for a walk that centered more on prairie than woods.

 

My husband, Randy, poses by one of River Bend’s biggest cottonwoods next to a parking lot nearest the center’s entrance.

 

With camera once again in hand, I scanned for photo ops, many pointed out by my hiking companion husband. I appreciate that he understands and supports my interest in photography.

 

 

As we hiked, I noticed a theme connecting nearly everything that drew my interest. I was focusing on texture—in dried prairie grass,

 

The deeply textured bark of a cedar tree.

 

bark,

 

 

new leaves,

 

 

a cone of seeds,

 

 

fungi,

 

 

a milkweed pod,

 

 

moss,

 

 

pussy willow,

 

 

 

the remnants of last season’s cattails…

Because the landscape remains so stark yet in early April in Minnesota, the eye catches such details. Or at least my eyes.

 

 

Yet several things distracted me from texture: the red dot of a bug and the red dash of a cardinal,

 

Randy and I hung out on the pond dock for awhile listening to the frogs and watching the geese.

 

the overwhelming roar of frogs,

 

 

the mating antics and flight of geese and then, the most unexpected—the sight of a sixty-something man walking toward us with a gun holstered and strapped to his belt.

 

We met the gun-carrying man not far from a bird observation deck marked by this sign.

 

The surprise showing of that weapon unsettled me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this just was not right for a person to be walking in a nature center on a Sunday afternoon with a handgun at his waist for all—including children—to see. Back home I checked the nature center website. Under Visitor Rules and Regulations, I found this:

Therefore, it shall be unlawful, except upon permission of the Executive Director or his/her agent, for any person to:

15. Possess or use any firearms, air guns, paintball guns, archery equipment, or other weapons within the nature center; or discharge any missile or other projectile from such a weapon into the nature center from beyond nature center boundaries without prior approval by River Bend’s board of directors (example: prescribed deer management hunts);

In my opinion, common sense should tell anyone not to carry a weapon into a nature center.

Thoughts?

© Copyright 2017 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Exploring the Kasota Prairie on an October afternoon October 7, 2010

 

 

A rock juts into the Kasota Prairie.

 

I CAN HEAR, in the distance, the steady thrum of traffic, presumably from U.S. Highway 169 or perhaps from nearby Minnesota Highway 22. I’m uncertain because I’ve never been here before and I haven’t consulted a map to pinpoint my location.

If not for the endless drone, I could be standing in the middle of a remote South Dakota or western Minnesota prairie.

But I am in south central Minnesota, at the Kasota Prairie, on a 90-acre remnant of the prairie land which comprised one-third of our state before 1850. Here native prairie grasses remain and grazed lands have been restored.

 

 

A view from the parking lot with a stone wall framing the prairie.

 

On a Friday afternoon, my husband and I discover this scenic spot in the Minnesota River valley two miles from Kasota. Because I favor the sweeping, wide open spaces of the prairie, the place of my roots, to the cramped confines of wooded land, I am comfortably at home here.

Prairie meets sky at Kasota. Stems of grasses dried to the muted earthen shades of autumn sway in the wind, mingling with the wildflowers and the berries I can’t always identify.

Occasionally a block of ancient rock juts through the soil, breaking the vista of plant life.

 

 

Water, rock, sky and prairie meld in this scenic Kasota Prairie landscape.

 

I pause often along the walking trails, even stray from the trampled paths, to examine the mottled stone, to admire a lone, rock-encircled barren tree atop a hill, to identify the red berries of wild roses, to study a clutch of feathers left by a predator, to take in the distant hillside of trees tinted in autumn colors.

 

 

My favorite image from the Kasota Prairie, a barren tree encircled in rock.

 

 

 

Wild rose berries on the Kasota Prairie.

 

 

Trees on a distant hillside change colors under October skies.

 

There is so much to appreciate here. Wind. The sky, quickly changing from azure blue wisped with white to the angry gray clouds of a cold front. Land, rolling out before me, unbroken except for sporadic pockets of water, the occasional tree or cluster of trees and those rocks, those hard, ancient rocks that interrupt this land, this Kasota Prairie.

 

 

A sign marks the Kasota Prairie entrance.

 

 

To truly appreciate the prairie, notice the details, like the berries growing among the grasses.

 

 

A narrow path runs along the barbed wire fence border line of the prairie.

 

FYI: To find the Kasota Prairie, take Le Sueur County Road 21 one mile south of Kasota. Then turn west onto township road 140 and go one mile.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling