A WALK INTO THE WOODS of River Bend Nature Center on a near 70-degree late March Sunday afternoon in Faribault yielded glimpses of spring unfolding, ever so slowly.
Patches of greenery emerged among dried and decaying leaves layering the earth. Tightly-clenched red buds tipped some branches. Subtle signs of early spring existed, if I looked closely. And listened.
A cardinal whistled. A woodpecker hammered. Both deep in the woods, unseen, but heard.
At the Turtle Pond, I expected turtles lining logs, basking in the afternoon sunshine. But I spotted only one, slipping into the slimy water before I could even lift my camera to focus a shot. Yet, the pond did not disappoint as a lone mallard duck glided across the shallow water, stopped and stood before swimming again, on toward the floating pedestrian bridge.
Randy and I paused in the brush near pond’s edge to examine a canister seemingly tossed on the ground. A geocache, perhaps in its proper place, perhaps not. We looked inside, then left it where found.
I kept scanning the woods for wildflowers (too early), anything that would visually cue me to this season of spring. Finding little, I concentrated on the trees. The texture of bark, which I always find artistically fascinating. A cluster of aspens, a splash of white in the gray woods. Piles and slices of wood from trees cut down.
I observed a scattering of plastic bags attached to trees, collection vessels for sap that will be cooked into maple syrup. The bags proved a conversation starter with a young family who moved here from Iowa a year ago and was on their first hike at River Bend. I love meeting new people. I explained the sap collecting, welcomed them to Faribault. And then the attention quickly turned to the four-year-old, who showed me the gray stone she found, then the faded temporary tattoos laddering her left leg and then her sparkly shoes. She bubbled with joy, only frowning when her mom mentioned her cousins back in Iowa. Cousins she misses and will see at Easter.
Other families and couples and singles hiked here, too, on this loveliest of March days in Minnesota. Others biked. My friend Lisa and her husband, Tom, avid bird watchers who tend bluebird houses at the nature center, warned us about deer ticks after we exchanged personal updates.
Down by the Straight River, a family played along the shoreline, sunshine sparkling on water. It was so good to see all these families outside, connecting with each other and with nature, away from technology and other distractions of life.
A short train roared by across the river, a flash of yellow in the monotone woods.
Randy and I passed another young family, two little girls clutching stuffies, a child in a stroller. The eldest ran ahead, her long hair flying. And I remembered the times we came here with our preschool grandchildren who also ran like the wind. Free. Immersed in nature.
Exiting the woods, we crossed the prairie, its expanse stretching, meeting the sky.
At prairie’s edge, a pair of geese strode across the dried grasses matted by winter’s snow and wind. Occasionally the two would stop, peck at the grass, searching for food.
I arrived at River Bend wanting to photograph signs of spring. Rather, I mostly heard spring—in a din of spring peepers, in the honk of geese, in other unidentified birds singing. And in the voice of a four-year-old, excited to be out with her parents in the woods. Playing. Searching for stones to take home.
Sometimes it takes a child to remind us of the smallest joys in life. To appreciate that which is before us rather than wishing for more.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Thoughts as we begin 2026 during these challenging times in the U.S. January 1, 2026
Tags: 2026, commentary, compassion, faith, Faribault, gravestones, ICE presence, kindness, life, Minnesota, New Year, opinion, thoughts, tombstones, United States, Valley Grove Cemetery
AS THE NEW YEAR begins, I enter it with a whole lot of trepidation, uncertainty and concern. Feeling optimistic right now does not come easily. I fear for our country. I fear for my community. I fear for my Latino and Somali neighbors, targeted by the federal government. Yes, ICE agents are visible and active in Faribault. Though I have not seen them myself, this information comes from reliable sources.
I fear that we are becoming desensitized to the ICE snatchings. I fear we are becoming desensitized to the lies, the rhetoric, the hatred, the awfulness spewing from, well, way too many leaders and even everyday people.
What happened to common decency and goodness and kindness? And due process? Why is anyone accepting suppression, oppression, racism, discrimination and more as OK, especially those who claim Christianity as their belief system? None of what’s happening is Christian, not according to my Christian beliefs anyway. Not according to the Bible I read.
It’s hard, really hard, to remain hopeful in the light of all this. But I try. My mom raised me to be caring, kind and compassionate. She lived that way, helping others through volunteerism and monetary gifts, but mostly through her kind, quiet, gentle and caring spirit. She treated everyone with love and compassion. I wish Mom was still alive so I could talk to her about all of this.
But sometimes the dead still speak to us. I don’t mean that in a literal sense, but rather in the legacies and words the once-living leave behind. It is one of the reasons I meander through cemeteries. Valley Grove Cemetery, rural Nerstrand, is one of those final resting places that offers an abundance of wisdom upon gravestones.
One particular tombstone stands out for the many positive affirmations it lists under the banner, BLESSED ARE THE PEACEMAKERS. (And this means authentic peacemakers, not those who pretend or claim to practice/bring peace.) Under that gravestone header is this broader message: EVERYONE HAS SOME GIFTS THAT CAN MAKE OUR WORLD A LITTLE BETTER. I absolutely agree.
Then, on the massive slab of stone, are written specific ways in which we can make the world better and live as peacemakers. I especially appreciate these two messages: TREAT OTHERS THE WAY YOU WANT TO BE TREATED. And BE KIND TO ALL AS YOU NEVER KNOW THEIR BURDENS.
Those are simple, uncomplicated directives that seem easy enough to follow. In 2026, it is my hope that we can shift back to being a caring country, where we treat others as we would like to be treated. And that is with kindness, compassion, care and love.
TELL ME: What are your hopes for 2026 in the U.S., your community? What are your concerns for the new year?
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling