ACRE UPON ACRE of drying corn and soybean fields unrolled before us as Randy and I headed west 120 miles from Faribault to my hometown for a mournful family gathering, this time to honor my cousin Jeff. He died unexpectedly at the age of 63 only three months after his mother, my Aunt Marilyn.
Here we were again, back at the hilltop Vesta Cemetery, circling around gravestones to hear Scripture, to pray, to sing, to comfort one another, to remember Jeff while a fierce wind blew and the bright sunshine warmed us.
As I stood there, I took in the countryside of this prairie place. I love this land of rich, dark soil. This land from which seeds sprout, grow into plants reaching toward the sun. This is fertile land that holds the promise of a plentiful harvest. Redwood County has, undeniably, some of the best farmland in Minnesota.
All through our 5-hour round trip, Randy and I kept a watchful eye on the crops, noting some nearly ready for harvest, others awaiting ripening. And in one spot north of Sleepy Eye, we came across farmers harvesting soybeans.
We are both farm kids—he a native of Morrison County in central Minnesota. As such, our observation of crops comes from a childhood of living on the land, of working the land (Randy more than me), of watching our farmer fathers work.
On this mid-September road trip, I was, in some ways, transported back in time to the farm. My focus shifted to the impending harvest. Preparation. Grain bins emptied to receive new crops. Combines and grain trucks at the ready.
A sense of anticipation prevails this time of year as farmers prepare to gather in the crops.
But beyond the fields, I noticed, too, the detailed ruralness of place the farther west we traveled. West of Mankato, the agrarian way of life always seems more defined as distances between farm sites grow.
With fewer visual distractions, I see the barns, the grain bins, the occasional cattle grazing.
I see roadside stands stocked with plump pumpkins ushering in autumn.
I see corn leaves curling, drying. I see soybean fields morphing from green to yellow to brown.
Near Morgan, the site of Farm Fest, a yearly Minnesota agricultural celebration, I spot several signs thanking farmers. Likewise in areas along U.S. Highway 14 between Owatonna and Mankato, farm-themed signage billboards the roadway.
There is reason to feel grateful for Minnesota farmers who grow the corn, soybeans and sugar beets I saw on this road trip. They work hard. They invest time, energy and lots of money in producing crops that benefit all of us. I could not do their job; I am risk averse.
In a year like this with current diesel fuel prices at their highest level ever, profit margins will be slimmer, if at all. I cannot imagine the stress farmers feel as they crunch numbers, check prices, budget for expenses, wonder how they will make loan payments or pay for diesel to fuel up farm equipment.
It takes courage to be a farmer. Optimism. Strength, too. Yet, farmers are a resilient bunch. Come next spring, most will be back on the land, seeding another crop in anticipation of another harvest.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Westward bound deep into Minnesota farm country May 28, 2026
Tags: agriculture, barns, Brown County, commentary, farm fields, farm sites, farming, land, landscape, Mankato, memories, Morgan, New Ulm, Owatonna, photography, Redwood County, rural Minnesota, sky, southern Minnesota, travel, Vesta
THROUGH SEVEN SOUTHERN MINNESOTA counties we traveled—Rice, Steele, Waseca, Blue Earth, Nicollet, Brown and, then, home to Redwood. Westward bound.
Only occasionally now, mostly for the annual family reunion and on this day a beloved aunt’s funeral, do Randy and I follow this 125-mile route back to my native Redwood County.
Every trip, I see the immensity of sky and land as the landscape unfolds before me. The farther west we drive, the more rural the look, the feel, with the exception of Mankato and New Ulm.
We bypass the small towns along four-lane U.S. Highway 14 while passing endless farm sites and fields.
I have my eye on the view from the passenger side of our van, scanning the land, watching for photo ops. Photography can be a challenge while traveling at highway speeds. Still, I try, managing to capture images that document the ruralness of this place.
Barns, especially red ones, always grab my attention. They symbolize agriculture more than any other building. Yet, most no longer center a farming operation. Absent of animals, many barns have been repurposed or have fallen into heaps of rotting wood. I always appreciate a well-kept barn still standing strong against elements and the passage of time.
This trip I’m also cognizant of crops at the beginning of the growing season. Corn is popping up in rows across the land, green shoots reaching toward the sun, the sky. Green is good. When my next trip this direction comes in late July, that corn will stand towering and dense across acres of fields.
I may not be a farmer, but my connection to the land more than 50 decades removed from my childhood farm remains strong. I still look at the crops. I still hope to spot a herd of Holsteins. I still see a silo and mentally climb the interior ladder to throw down silage. I still eye a grove of trees with the playfulness of youth.
While nostalgia runs high on trips like this deep into Minnesota farm country, reality is that farming remains as challenging as ever with ever-rising expenses, low commodity prices and the uncertainties of weather. Will rain fall when needed? Will storms come with devastating wind and hail? Always, always, the risks exist from planting to growing to harvest.
But on this day, mile after mile after mile, I see the hope of a farmer. I see a way of life. I see dreams.
And I feel small in this place where land and sky dwarf farm sites, where fields stretch across endless acres, where the highway ribbons ahead of us across seven rural southern Minnesota counties, westward bound.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling