Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Bison: History, cultural importance, a film & a poem October 12, 2023

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 5:00 AM
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Minneopa State Park near Mankato is home to 30-40 bison fenced on 325 acres of primarily prairie. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2019)

THEY ARE MASSIVE BEASTS, once roaming the American Great Plains by the millions. They are bison, also called buffalo, today numbering some 370,000 in North America. Most are raised as livestock. But some 31,000, or eight percent, are part of conservation herds, including right here in Minnesota. Such herds are designed to protect wild bison and preserve their genetic diversity.

Interpretive signage about bison overlooks the prairie at Minneopa State Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2019)

An upcoming documentary, “The American Buffalo—A Story of Resilience” by awarding-winning filmmaker Ken Burns, and my own recently posted poem about bison prompted my renewed interest in this animal. Burns’ 4-hour film airs in two parts, at 7 pm on Monday, October 16, and on Tuesday, October 17, on PBS. His documentary traces the history of bison, their importance in Native peoples’ lives and culture, their near extinction, and efforts to bring them back.

Bison up close while driving through Minneopa State Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2019)

My connection to bison began decades ago with childhood visits to Ramsey Park (in Redwood Falls), now also more appropriately called Cansayapi Park. Cansayapi in the Dakota language means “where they marked the trees red,” the traditional Minnesota River valley homeland of the Dakota. The Lower Sioux Indian Community is located near nearby Morton with an enrolled membership of 930 of the Mdewakanton Band of the Dakota.

A map, posted in Minneopa State Park, shows the prairie and historic bison territory in Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2019)

Given the region’s rich Native heritage, the presence of a small group of bison in the Ramsey Park Zoo seems fitting. I recall rushing to see the buffalo there, both excited and intimidated by their massive hulk. Today I’m not so much afraid as respectful of their size and their importance in Indigenous Peoples’ culture.

A sculpture of White Buffalo Calf Woman, part of Indigenous culture, displayed at the 2011 Mankato City Art Walking Sculpture Tour. Artwork by Lee Leuning and Sherri Treeby. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2011 by Audrey Kletscher Helbling)

One need only look back in history to see how invaluable bison were to these original inhabitants of the prairie, the plains. Bison provided food, shelter, clothing and more to Indigenous Peoples. They also held spiritual and cultural significance. Bison were considered kin, respected by those who respected Mother Earth.

Bison at Minneopa State Park watering hole. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2019)

And then the white man came in the 1800s, overtaking the land, nearly driving bison to extinction as they hunted and slaughtered the animal primarily for their hides.

Blue Mounds State Park in rural Rock County, Minnesota, is home to 80-90 bison, although I did not see them when I visited the park in 2013. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2013)

And so the story of bison is not only one of past atrocities in American history, but also one of personal history for me with those fenced bison in Minnesota’s largest municipal park, known as “The Little Yellowstone of Minnesota” for its beautiful natural topography seemingly like Yellowstone National Park. Yellowstone, the one in Wyoming, is home to nearly 6,000 bison.

A sign along the prairie’s edge at Minneopa State Park informs about bison in Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2019)

In my youth, I didn’t understand the importance of bison in Native culture. I simply delighted in seeing them in the zoo at then Alexander Ramsey Park in my native Redwood County. Neither did I recognize how offensive the name of the park I loved as a child—Alexander Ramsey Park. Alexander Ramsey served as our first territorial governor and then as the second state governor of Minnesota during the US-Dakota War of 1862. He offered a bounty to anyone who killed a Dakota person and called for Indigenous Peoples to be driven out of Minnesota.

This 67-ton Kasota limestone sculpture stands in Reconciliation Park in Mankato. It symbolizes the spiritual survival of the Dakota People and honors the area’s Dakota heritage. The park is the site of the largest mass hanging in U.S. history. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2019)

With that backstory and an understanding of a period in Minnesota history marked by hatred and injustices, I paid homage to bison in a poem now gracing a sign in Mankato. Mahkato, a Dakota word which means “blue earth,” was the site of the largest mass execution in the United States on December 26, 1862. Thirty-eight Dakota, sentenced to death in sham trials for their roles in the US-Dakota War, were hung in Mankato.

My poem posted along a recreational trail in Mankato. (Photo credit: Kay Herbst Helms)

I wanted to honor the original inhabitants of Mahkato, the bison, the Native culture, the land. And so I wrote “The Mighty Tatanka,” using the Dakota word for bison. My poem was selected for inclusion in the Mankato Poetry Walk & Ride and is posted on a sign in West Mankato.

The Mighty Tatanka

Tatanka trips from my tongue
like the steady beat of horse hooves
pounding the prairie
in pursuit of massive beasts.

Bison. Honored. Sacred to the Dakota.
Source of life and food and shelter.
Once roaming, grazing, stampeding
this land upon which I stand.

While my poem is succinct, limited by wordage requirements in the poetry competition, I’d like to think “The Mighty Tatanka” is powerful. It holds not only the rhythm of carefully selected words, but a story. A story of bison, of Indigenous Peoples, of a way of life, of a culture. It holds, too, honor for the land and of those who first inhabited, and respected, it.

#

FYI: My poem is posted on a sign along the West Mankato Trail near the intersection of Owatonna Street and Blue Earth and Sylvia Streets in West Mankato. You can listen to me read my poem by calling 507-403-4038 and entering 406.

Noted Minnesota wildlife photographer Jim Brandenberg’s (right in video) work, including this image of bison, is featured in a gallery bearing his name in Luverne, near Blue Mounds State Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2013)

To see Minnesota Bison Conservation Herd bison in Minnesota, visit Minneopa State Park near Mankato, Blue Mounds State Park near Luverne, the Minnesota Zoological Garden, Oxbow Park & Zollman Zoo by Byron, and Spring Lake Park Reserve Bison Prairie in Dakota County.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

 

In celebration of National Poetry Month, a selected poem April 5, 2023

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 5:00 AM
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,
I took poetic license and photoshopped this image of the button I wore identifying me as a poet at a poetry reading. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2015)

APRIL MARKS National Poetry Month, a time to celebrate poetic verse and poets. As a long-time writer, I unequivocally state that penning poetry is challenging. Why? Every. Single. Word. Counts.

That makes sense given the structure of poems.

I’ve written poetry off and on since high school. All those decades ago, I wrote angst-filled poems reflective of teenage moods, emotions and life. Recently a high school friend returned a poem I wrote for her nearly 50 years ago, a poem handwritten on lined notebook paper. The folded page, yellowed with age, holds words focusing on my future and the ultimate question at life’s end: What good have I done?

The poem dedicated to Janette is not particularly well-written. Yet, it has value in reflecting my thoughts, in opening myself up, in showing vulnerability to a trusted friend. Will I share it with you? No.

My poem, “Final Harvest,” and two pieces of creative nonfiction were selected for publication in this anthology in 2020. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2020)

But I will share my poem, “Final Harvest,” which published in Insights, Talking Stick 29. It was chosen by the editorial team of Menahga-based Jackpine Writers’ Bloc for the 2020 edition of TS, a selected collection of poetry, fiction and creative nonfiction by Minnesotans or those with a Minnesota connection.

This scene at Parkview Senior Living in Belview, Minnesota, inspired a poem. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo July 2019)

The poetry I write, like nearly all of my writing, carries a strong sense of place, often rooted in my agrarian roots. And, like nearly all of my creative writing, my poetry is rooted in truth. A cornstalk growing in a pink bucket in the community room at Parkview Senior Living, where my mom lived before her 2022 death, inspired “Final Harvest.” It is not at all angst-filled. But, in a round about way, it asks the same question: What good have I done?

Final Harvest

The cornstalk rises tall, straight

from the pink five-gallon bucket

set next to an uncomfortable tan chair

on carpet the color of dirt.

If the retired farmer in the wheelchair

looks long enough, he imagines rows of corn

rooted in a field of rich black soil,

leaves unfurling under a wide blue sky.

Staff stops to check the corn plant

seeded on May 13, not too late,

says the old farmer as he pours water

into the bucket, soaking the soil.

I focus my camera lens on the cornstalk,

pleased and amused by its placement here

like a still life shadowing beige walls

in the community room of my mom’s care center.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Alright, winter, time to leave Minnesota as spring arrives March 20, 2023

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 5:00 AM
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Trees bud at Falls Creek Park, rural Faribault, in late May 2022. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2022)

TODAY, THE FIRST DAY of spring, hope springs that this long winter of too much snow will soon exit Minnesota. Most Minnesotans, including me, are weary of days marked by new snowfall that has accumulated, pushing this 2022-2023 winter season into top 10 records in our state.

Asparagus, one of my favorite spring vegetables. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

But now, with the official start of a new season on March 20—the season of new life, the season of planting and budding and greening—I feel a mental shift. Psychologically, my mind can envision a landscape shifting from colorless monochrome to vivid greens. I can feel the warmth of warmer days yet to come. I can smell the scent of dirt released, breaking from winter’s grip. I can hear the singsong chatter of returning birds. I can taste asparagus spears snapped from the soil.

A bud beginning to open in late April 2020. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2020)

All of this is yet to come. I understand that. A date on a calendar doesn’t mean spring in Minnesota. That season is realistically weeks away. April can still bring inches of snow.

Crocuses, always the first flower of spring in my flowerbeds. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo March 2021)

But we are edging toward spring. I feel that in temps sometimes reaching just past 40 degrees. I feel it in the warmth of the sun, shining brighter, bolder, longer. I see dwindling snow packs and exposed patches of grass. I hear spring in vehicles splashing through puddles rather than crunching across snow. I see spring, too, in the endless potholes pocking roadways.

The first line in my winning poem, posted roadside in 2011. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2011)

On this first day of spring, I am reminded of a poem I penned in 2011, a poem which splashed across four billboards along a road just off Interstate 94 in Fergus Falls in west central Minnesota. To this day, publication of that poem remains an especially rewarding experience for me as a poet.

Billboard number two of my spring-themed poem. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo June 2011)

I submitted the poem to the now-defunct Roadside Poetry Project’s spring competition. Poems changed out seasonally in this Fergus Falls Area College Foundation funded contest. It was a bit of a challenge writing a spring-themed poem, as I recall. Not because of the theme, but rather the rules—four lines only with a 20-character-per-line limit. But, as a writer, it’s good to be challenged.

Line three of my Roadside Poetry Project spring poem. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo June 2011)

I suppose you could say the same about Minnesota weather. It’s good to be challenged by an especially snowy winter so we appreciate spring’s arrival even more. Yes, that’s a positive perspective—a way to mentally and psychologically talk myself into enduring perhaps six more weeks of winter in this official season of spring.

The last of four billboards featuring my Roadside Poetry spring poem. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo June 2011)

NOTE: I intentionally omitted any pictures showing snow/winter.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Lilacs & the love they hold May 21, 2021

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 5:00 AM
Tags: , , , , , ,
Lilacs grow in various shades in a row of bushes at North Alexander Park in Faribault. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

LILACS PERFUME THE AIR, filling the lower level of my home with the scent of spring in Minnesota.

“Lilacs on the Table” inspired by my poem and painted by Jeanne Licari for Poet-Artist Collaboration XIII at Crossings in Carnegie in Zumbrota in 2014. File photo courtesy of Crossings.

These bouquets—three in my living room, another in the dining room and the fifth on the bathroom counter—are more than simply beautiful flowers. They are reminders. Of my bachelor uncle. Of my husband’s love. Of a poem I wrote in 2014 as part of a poet-artist collaboration.

Lilac bushes at North Alexander Park, Faribault. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo.

While my beloved Uncle Mike is long gone, the memories of the lilac bush which grew on his farm remain. I think of him each May when Randy brings me clutches of lilacs. It’s a sweet tradition. Loving. Appreciated more than a dozen roses, although those are lovely, too.

Lilacs, up close. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2013.

When Randy walked through the back door a few days ago with lilacs, I was surprised. Not that I should have been. He does this every May. I appreciate his thoughtfulness. I appreciate that he takes the time to gather these flowers for me at the end of a long work day.

There’s something simply sweet and precious about his remembering, his recognition of how much I value this heartfelt gift of love.

Lilacs

Breathing in the heady scent of lilacs each May,
I remember my bachelor uncle and the gnarled bushes,
heavy with purple blooms, that embraced his front porch
and held the promises of sweet love never experienced.

He invited his sister-in-law, my mother, to clip lilacs,
to enfold great sweeps of flowers into her arms,
to set a still life painting upon the Formica kitchen table,
romance perfuming our cow-scented farmhouse.

Such memories linger as my own love, decades later,
pulls a jackknife from the pocket of his stained jeans,
balances on the tips of his soiled Red Wing work shoes,
clips and gathers great sweeps of lilacs into his arms.

 

© Copyright 2021 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

From Inauguration day: Inspiring poetry January 21, 2021

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 5:00 AM
Tags: , , , , , , , ,
Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

FOR THOSE OF US who write poetry, its power to move, to inspire, to uplift, to matter, were evident during Wednesday’s Presidential inauguration as National Youth Poet Laureate Amanda Gorman delivered her powerful poem, “The Hill We Climb.”

To watch that 22-year-old Los Angeles poet stand before the nation’s capitol, before the new President and Vice President and so many others, and hear her deliver her poem with such passion filled me with hope.

Hope themed her poem. If you missed hearing Gorman’s poem, I’d encourage you to seek it out online and listen. Poetry, when read aloud by its author, takes on a depth missing if simply read silently to one’s self.

Gorman’s poem complemented, reinforced, the hopeful messages I took away from the day through speeches, songs, prayers and actions.

Words—like unity, resilience, strength, faith, respect, possibilities, together—resonated with me. Words that will write, as President Joe Biden said, “the unfolding story of our great nation.”

And part of that story will be the words of a young poet, who inspired hope on January 20, 2021.

© Copyright 2021 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Public poetry in Mankato & I’m in, again November 15, 2019

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 5:00 AM
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

That’s my poem, viewed through the opening in the flood wall in downtown Mankato, Minnesota.

 

ALONG A BUSY STREET in the heart of downtown Mankato near Reconciliation Park, across a duo set of train tracks and then through an opening in a flood wall mural, you’ll find a work of literary art. Mine. A poem, River Stories.

 

Me, next to my posted poem, River Stories. Photo by Randy Helbling

 

 

Photographed from the opening in the flood wall, the mural showcases the Minnesota River, to the right.

 

My poem was recently selected for inclusion in the Mankato Poetry Walk & Ride, a public art project that now boasts 41 poems posted on signs throughout Greater Mankato. This, my fifth poem picked in recent years for the project, will be displayed for the next two years at the site along the Minnesota River Trail hugging the river. I am honored to share my poetry in such an accessible way via this ongoing effort of the Southern Minnesota Poets Society.

 

 

To hear River Stories, call 507-403-4038 and enter 406 when prompted. (That’s not me reading.)

 

This 67-ton Kasota stone sculpture stands in Reconciliation Park. It symbolizes the spiritual survival of the Dakota People and honors the area’s Dakota heritage. The park is the site of the largest mass execution in U.S. history. The U.S. government tried and hung 38 Dakota here following the U.S.-Dakota Conflict of 1862. The location of my poem near this park seems fitting as part of the city’s river stories.

 

The Mankato Poetry Walk & Ride is a competitive process which challenges Minnesota poets to pen poems of no more than 18 lines with a limit of 40 characters per line. River Stories is short at only nine lines. Just like crafting copy for children’s books, creating poetry is among the most challenging of writing disciplines. Every word must prove its worth. Poetry has made me a stronger and better writer.

 

The Minnesota River, which runs through Mankato, inspired River Stories.

 

In writing poetry, I often reflect on my past and on a strong sense of place. Rural. My previous Mankato Poetry Walk & Ride poems include Cornfield Memories, Off to Mankato “to get an education”, The Thrill of Vertical and Bandwagon.

© Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A refrigerator love poem for my husband April 30, 2019

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 5:00 AM
Tags: , , , ,

 

 

Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

An original poem crafted with magnetic letters and words and posted on my refrigerator. I purchased the set at an Owatonna thrift store.

 

Thoughts on listening, understanding & more, plus a poem April 25, 2019

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 5:00 AM
Tags: , , , , , ,

 

 

I’LL BE THE FIRST to admit that I am not bold. I am not a risk taker. I dislike change.

But to read this poem I crafted with magnetic word tiles and posted on my fridge, you might think I am a bold risk taker. Not all of us are. Not all of us can be. And that’s alright. We each hold value in who we are. This poem simply expresses my creativity.

I don’t pretend to be someone I am not. Call me authentic. I like that word.

I am not loud, but I will speak up when necessary. Sometimes the quietest voices are louder than the loudest.

I value listening more than talking. Too many people like the sound of their own voices. We should all strive to listen better. It seems a mostly lost art.

When we listen, compassion and understanding happen. When we place ourselves in the shoes of someone struggling with challenges, we begin to understand. Begin to understand how words and actions can hurt. Or heal.

It’s easy to fall into the trap of judging, of thinking we have all the answers, that everything in life is black-and-white. It isn’t.

Life is a mix of colors. Some days vibrant. Other days muddied. But it is a life we are in together. If only we recognize that and try harder to care for one another. With ongoing understanding, love and compassion.

THOUGHTS?

© Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Found poetry April 15, 2019

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 5:00 AM
Tags: , , , , , , ,

A POET FRIEND COLLECTS found poetry.

Larry Gavin’s most recent found poem, read recently at a Cannon Valley Poets Poetry Reading at the Paradise Center for the Arts in Faribault, caused the audience to burst into laughter. He read a short “looking for work poem” collected from a public space. The poster sought babysitting jobs, but stated she’d rather pick rock. Alright then. A potential babysitter who prefers rocks to children is unlikely to get hired by any parent.

Like Larry, I find publicly posted messages interesting and often humorous. Unlike Larry, I’d never considered those notes as poetry. But I understand why he views them as such.

Inspired by my poet friend, I’ve upped my public message board reading, something I’ve done only irregularly in the past. I was quickly rewarded with a unique note tacked onto a bulletin board at the Salvation Army Thrift Store in Owatonna.

 

 

I snapped a photo with my smartphone and then edited out the phone number.

The note inspired me to write this poem:

Missing

She rocks—the cool blonde
with hair sculpted in a do,
stripe ribboned across locks,
eyes shaded behind sunglasses
like Jackie O.
Call if you see her.
She’s missing.
Last seen at the Salvation Army Thrift Store.

 

TELL ME: Do you read publicly posted messages like Larry and me? If yes, please share an interesting/humorous/bizarre one you’ve spotted.

© Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Eleven magnetic words equal a poem January 24, 2019

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 5:00 AM
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

SEVERAL MONTHS AGO, I purchased a duo Tootsie Toy magnetic board/chalkboard at an Owatonna thrift shop. I didn’t need it. But I liked the vintage look and the possibilities. Those reasons sufficed to hand over a few bucks.

 

 

Along with the board came a bonus baggie of magnetic words. They aren’t original to the board but probably were thrown in because what else do you do with a bunch of donated stray magnetic words?

I finally got around to making poetry with them. Here’s my first poem, which I posted on my refrigerator:

 

 

This proved a good challenge—to use the limited words to create poetry. (Pretend a question mark ends the first line.)

 

 

As poets understand, poetry requires tight writing. A word must hold value or out it goes. Poetry writing may seem easy to those not engaged in the craft. But it’s not. Penning poems requires focused skill and much practice as one of the most disciplined forms of literary art.

Thoughts?

© 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling