
IN THIS GO-BETWEEN TIME of almost spring here in southern Minnesota, the landscape appears mostly winter drab, plain, devoid of many photo opportunities. That is until I look beyond the bare-branched trees, the barren land, the basic gray of March skies.

Color, although not abundant, can still be found among the neutral hues.
Camera in hand, I watched for bright spots and more on a recent business road trip with my husband to Rochester. I kept an eye out for anything I thought would be photo-worthy. Or interesting. My definition of both may differ from yours.

But I enjoy on-the-road, literally, photography—taking photos from the passenger seat inside a moving vehicle. This requires awareness, anticipation and quick framing with the camera set at a fast shutter speed. Clean, or mostly clean, windows help as does a smooth road.
Sometimes I get the image I want. And sometimes I get an unfocused photo. It’s a bit of a crapshoot.

Regardless of photo outcomes, I’m content to scan my surroundings, appreciating the nuances of rural Minnesota. On this particular Thursday morning along US Highway 14 about 20 minutes west of Rochester, I was drawn first to fog enveloping a farm site. Gray on gray on gray on gray. Gray skies. Gray bins. Gray grain dryers. Long gray metal buildings.

Once in Rochester, color popped at me from a roadside attraction, the 151-foot tall Ear of Corn Water Tower built in 1931 for Reid, Murdoch & Co. The food cannery used the 50,000 gallon water tower in its canning operation, which included canning corn. The business changed hands twice before the plant closed in 2018. But the water tower landmark remains. I found it definitely photo-worthy as we passed by.

But something as simple as as an over-sized American flag flapping in the morning breeze, a red barn flashing color, a sprawling white farmhouse, a row of power lines, a distant farm site can grab my visual attention, too.

I’m drawn to photograph rural scenes because of my farm background. Deep in my soul, I long to live again in the countryside, away from close neighbors, near nature, cocooned by quiet. But reality is that will never happen.
And so I find ways to reconnect with the land. In my writing. In my photography. In every season.

Every farm field holds the hope of a farmer. Every farm site holds memories and hard work. And dreams. I see this on the road, through my camera lens, as my focus shifts with every mile covered.

I view an ever-changing rural winter landscape of red barns, aged farmhouses, towering silos, untilled fields and then, on the edge of Kenyon, signage boasting local high school sporting championships. Such signs are common in small Minnesota communities.

Nearing the end of this quick road trip, an eagle leads us along Minnesota State Highway 60 west of Kenyon before veering to the right. When I see this majestic bird on this day, I feel as I always do about eagles—in awe of their size, their power, their speed. I snap three quick frames.

Time passes. Miles pass. Rural southern Minnesota unfolds before me, captured through the lens of my camera on an almost-spring day in March.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling























































































From words on a government website to soybean markets & a crisis in rural America October 15, 2025
Tags: agriculture, America, China, commentary, farm crisis, farming, messaging, opinion, rural America, rural Minnesota, soybean market, soybeans, tariffs, trade war, United State Department of Agriculture
WHEN I FIRST READ the message bannering the United States Department of Agriculture website during the current government shutdown, my jaw dropped. In a two-sentence statement, “The Radical Left Democrats” are blamed for the closure of the federal government. How unprofessional, I thought, to so blatantly put politics out there on a website designed to help America’s farmers. But then again, why should this surprise me?
United States Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem is doing the same in a video message blaming Democrats for the shutdown. She expects this to be broadcast in airport terminals. Many are opting not to air her clearly political statement. And they shouldn’t. It’s unprofessional and wrong in more ways than I can list, no matter what your political affiliation may be.
But back to that message on the USDA website. It goes on to say that President Donald Trump wants to keep the government open “and support those who feed, fuel and clothe the American people.” Now that is certainly a noble statement at face value, one we could all applaud. Who doesn’t want to support our farmers? But in the context of what the President has done to farmers, the statement seems laughable.
Here in the heartland, farmers have lost a major market for soybeans, my state’s top agricultural export. China has stopped buying soybeans from not only Minnesota, but America. That’s billions of dollars in lost income. And all because of the ongoing trade war between the U.S. and China, begun by the man who slapped tariffs—now averaging 58 percent—on Chinese imports with a threat to increase that to 100 percent. I’m no economist. But even I understand China’s retaliatory tariffs and actions to tap other markets for soybeans. They went to Brazil and Argentina.
And now President Trump proposes sending $20 billion in aid to Argentina, all tied to an upcoming election there. Why would we bail out a country exporting their soybeans to China while our own financially-strapped farmers are suffering because they’ve lost a key market? This makes no sense to me. Again, I’m not an economist or a politician, simply an ordinary American citizen, with a farm upbringing (and who decades ago freelanced for the Minnesota Soybean Growers Association), questioning the logic of any of this.
Even without the Argentinian component tossed into the mix, there’s more. President Trump has proposed an aid package for farmers to help them get through the financial crisis he created via his tariffs and the resulting trade war with China. That aid would come from the money collected from tariffs. Now I know farmers—my dad was one—are fiercely independent and would rather have a market for their cash crops than government aid. If not for the tariffs…
As the harvest continues here in Minnesota, I can’t help but feel for those who work the land, who continue to face so many uncertainties, financial challenges and stressors. Interest rates on loans remain high. Market prices remain low. Land rents continue to rise. Equipment and other costs are high. And on and on, including the loss of the long-standing soybean export market to China, which quite likely may never be reclaimed.
This is becoming a crisis situation for farmers—those who feed, fuel and clothe Americans. From fields to small town Main Street, rural America is hurting. And politically-biased blame words published on a government website aren’t helping.
© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling