IN THE ETHEREAL LIGHT of the setting sun, Randy and I loop around the ponds at Faribault Energy Park, our shoes crunching on gravel.
If not for the steady roar of traffic on adjacent Interstate 35, this parcel of parkland would prove especially peaceful.
Despite the drone of vehicles, I still appreciate this 35-acre park that takes visitors past three ponds, a wind turbine and solar panels. Often we are alone here, which makes this park even more appealing. Occasionally, though, a dog runs free, despite rules requiring leashing.
On this visit, I focus on the wildflowers and grasses that flourish here as late spring transitions toward summer. Only steps into our walk, Randy discovers a wild rose bush along the trail. We both step off the path to dip our noses into a five-petaled pink rose, to smell the delicate scent of nature’s perfume. I recall youthful days of biking along country roads, the ditches populated with fragrant wild roses.
I’m no plant expert, thus can’t identify most of the other flowers I see here. But I do know enough to stay away from the invasive wild parsnip. The toxic yellow plant, if touched, burns the skin.
Brome, pond-side and other grasses draw my eye as they stretch toward the sky. Or, on this evening, bend in the wind as if dancing a farewell recital to daylight.
Clouds build to the west and north, sometimes blocking the sun.
An egret takes flight from a pond, its wings lifting, flapping, long black legs trailing in a straight line. The bird rises high out of camera range.
A chorus of birds, mostly unseen, sing as we walk along the trails, around the ponds. I can only distinguish the unique voice of a red-winged blackbird.
Randy weaves through the tall grass to check a bluebird house, finding only a few feathers and dried grass inside.
Sunlight glints on water, shadows through trees. This time of day—the golden hour before sunset—holds a light-beauty matched only by the hour after sunrise. This is the time I want to be out with my camera composing images, but also simply in the moment. As trite as the word may seem, “beautiful” defines the light.
To hike and take photos at Faribault Energy Park in this hour settles my spirit in a way that only nature can. Wildflowers. Tall grasses. Bird song. Sunlight on water. Clouds rising. The wind touching my face. The scent of a wild rose.
All of this I find here on this parcel of parkland, this place beside the busy interstate where motorists rush by while I walk, shoes crunching on gravel.
FYI: Minnesota Municipal Power Agency owns Faribault Energy Park, which includes parkland and a power plant. The park is located at 4100 Park Avenue North on Faribault’s north side and is open from sunrise to sunset. Here visitors can hike, enjoy a picnic and fish in the pond next to the power plant.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Courageous crocuses April 9, 2026
Tags: blossoms, cold, commentary, crocus, crocuses, flowers, Minnesota, nature, seasons, spring, spring flowers, winter
EACH SPRING THEY EMERGE, poking through a layer of dried leaves mulching my front flowerbed.
When I spot the tender green shoots of crocuses, I feel a surge of optimism that winter is winding down. However, as a life-long Minnesotan, I also tamp my excitement. Snow falls in April here and sometimes in May. And these crocuses were bursting already in late March.
Days after I removed the leaves, exposing the crocuses to sunshine and air, they grew quickly. Soon purple blossoms spread wide, revealing golden centers like spots of sunshine.
I delight in the shades of purple, notice the lines tracing the petals, the way the flowers hug the ground as if also tentative about the season.
This first flower of spring seems to me courageous. Braving the cold of Minnesota, determined to reach the sunshine, to make a strong statement of hope that the cold and dark of winter will give way to warmth and light.
TELL ME: I’d like to hear your first flower of spring story.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling