A PLANNED FALL COLOR DRIVE evolved into more like a harvest drive as Randy and I traveled recently through parts of Rice, Steele, Waseca and LeSueur counties. While we saw some color in the trees, fall field work centered our observations.
Area farmers were busy harvesting soybeans on the day we meandered through the countryside to the west of Faribault with no set destination.
Given our farm backgrounds—Randy rooted in Morrison County in central Minnesota and me in Redwood County in southwestern Minnesota—we remain interested in farming, particularly in spring planting and fall harvest.
On this unseasonably warm autumn day, farmers hustled to get the beans out, their mammoth combines enveloped in dust as the machines raked across the acres. A stretch of hot, dry days made for ideal harvest weather.
Grain trucks idled, awaiting loads of beans. Others brimmed with golden orbs. Gravity flow wagons pulled by tractors or pickup trucks also held the bounty of crops.
I noticed the details, too, like a small cooler inside a combine cab, probably packed with lunch. My friend Virginia shared recently that she delivered lunch to her son harvesting in the Millersburg area. It’s likely not all that uncommon for family members to take meals to farmers in the field. Going up to the farmhouse for lunch takes too much time.
Time is the farmer’s constant companion during this season of harvest. As the days tick closer to winter, pressure mounts to get first the soybeans, then the corn, out.
And then there’s the weather, always the weather. Unwanted rain can delay harvest, adding to an already stressful situation.
It takes a lot of mental fortitude to crop farm—to handle the stressors of time, weather, fluctuating prices and increasing operational expenses. But help is available 24/7 through a free and confidential state-funded Minnesota Farm & Rural Helpline at 833-600-2670. Trained counselors will listen, help and connect as needed. Other resources such as NAMI Minnesota and the Suicide Lifeline (call, text or chat to 988) are also available to assist.
Along with mental health are physical safety concerns. I was reminded of that when I noticed a fire extinguisher attached to the side of laddered steps leading into a combine. Occasionally fire erupts when crop debris meets hot machinery or parts get overheated or for other reasons.
I expect most farmers take safety seriously. Yet it’s easy, when you’re working long, exhausting days and late into the night on minimal sleep, for accidents to happen. Every harvest season across Minnesota there are stories of grain bin rescues, sometimes successful, sometimes not.
Thankfully safety shields on modern day machinery mostly protect from serious injuries, unlike when my father-in-law’s left hand was pulled into a corn chopper in 1967. The accident happened as he hand-fed corn into the chopper. The blades chopped off his fingers with a surgeon later amputating part of his forearm. Eleven-year-old Randy, in the field with his dad when the accident happened, turned off the power take-off and then ran to a neighbor’s farm for help.
As we drove through the southern Minnesota countryside, deep into harvest, I thought of that long ago farm accident involving the man who would become my father-in-law. And I considered all the farmers today who love the land and farming, but who work in one of the top 10 most dangerous occupations in the U.S.
Farm life may, on the surface, appear a bucolic, simple life. But in reality, it isn’t. It’s hard work. I’m reminded of that as I travel through the countryside, documenting field work. This chosen life comes with rewards and risks, from planting to harvest.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Continuing to raise our Minnesota Strong voices in Faribault February 9, 2026
Tags: activism, commentary, Constitutional rights, Faribault, free speech, freedom, Immigration and Customs Enforcement, injustice, Minnesota, Minnesota Strong, news, protests, Rice County
I PULLED OUT my long johns, wool socks, stocking cap, mittens, hand warmers, winter boots and scarf. Then I pulled out my parka and my protest sign: STAND UP FOR HUMAN RIGHTS.
Just before 11 a.m. Saturday, Randy and I joined others outside the Rice County government services building along Minnesota State Highway 60 for our fourth protest there and the fifth in Faribault. Each week numbers grow, this time reaching some 80 of us stretched along the sidewalk with our signs.
We are not agitators or paid protesters as some claim, but rather ordinary Minnesotans united, called by our morals, our compassion, our concerns, to publicly say we are not OK with what is happening in this country. We are Minnesotans who care about immigrants and refugees, about freedom, about the Constitution, about due process and much more. We are concerned about the presence of ICE agents, whom we want out of our community, out of our state, after two-plus months of occupation.
And so we protest, week after week in our community an hour south of Minneapolis, because our city, too, has been impacted by ICE. People have been taken by federal agents from an apartment complex near the public library, by the railroad tracks near the turkey processing plant, from the trailer parks… It’s documented in videos. Warning horns blare, whistles sound, bystanders yell, sometimes. ICE has parked for hours in a neighborhood with Hispanic families. Watching, intimidating, silently threatening. Agents have photographed license plates at a gas station. This is reality in my city of 25,000.
School attendance has dropped. People are afraid to go to work, afraid to go grocery shopping and/or to food shelves (because ICE is watching), afraid to go to the doctor, afraid to leave their homes for fear of being taken by ICE. Legal status doesn’t seem to matter, only skin color, although even white people have been detained (with two killed) in Minnesota. Neighbors, churches and more have rallied to help with grocery shopping and delivery, walking kids to bus stops, giving co-workers rides. That support matters as does participating in protests. I’ve personally been thanked by Latinos and a Somali man for protesting.
This is why I’ve become an activist. This is why I use my voice as a writer and photographer. That is why I’ve started volunteering at a local food shelf. No one should live in fear of simply going about their daily lives. I am also doing this for my young grandchildren. I want them to understand the importance of speaking up for others. I want them to realize, when they are old enough, that their grandma did not remain silent in the face of atrocities inflicted by the federal government upon its people.
There is value in publicly taking a stand, especially in a city like mine which votes red. (Well, certainly not all of us.) Every protest brings out some who object to our activism as they drive by. That is their Constitutional right. They flash middle fingers, shout profanities, sometimes drive aggressively close, raging mad. That is not OK, potentially endangering people protesting in a public space. But we remain undeterred in raising our voices.
ON TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 10, a group of county residents are going to the Rice County Board of Commissioners meeting to speak about the impact of ICE on the community. That will happen during the open comments portion of the meeting at 8 a.m. I’m not part of that group, but was made aware of it. I’ve felt for a while that our local city and county government officials need to address this topic. ICE is certainly having a negative impact on the health, safety and well-being of county residents both directly and indirectly. That should not, and cannot, be ignored.
We must all do whatever we can, whenever we can, however we can to speak up, help and love our neighbors, and stand strong in the face of tyranny and injustice.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling