Blonde brownies baked this morning. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2024)
I HAVE A LOT ON MY MIND, as I expect many of you do. So this morning I baked blonde brownies. Nothing healthy about this sweet treat. Nothing healthy at all. The brownies are loaded with sugar. Two cups of brown sugar, to be exact. But on this day I don’t care.
(Book cover sourced online)
Today I’m continuing to read A Fever in the Heartland by Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter and author Timothy Egan. If ever there was a book that opened my eyes to American history, this is it. I’ve had to read this book in doses given the heaviness of the topic. Every. Single. Person. Should read this book. The content is relatable to today in many aspects. And that, my friends, is beyond frightening.
Lastly, it’s Friday. The sun is shining brightly. Laundry is drying on the line. And I’m waiting for a friend, who just lost his dog, to stop over for a brownie.
Enjoy your weekend, everyone! Take a walk. Meet a friend. Defiantly bake brownies.
The two Valley Grove churches, including the 1862 limestone church, are edged by a cemetery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
A CEMETERY MAY SEEM an unlikely spot to find inspiration. But that’s exactly what I found in mid October while meandering through Valley Grove Cemetery, rural Nerstrand. The graveyard sits next to the historic Valley Grove churches and rates as one of my favorite peaceful places in Rice County.
In the distance, a colorful tree line backgrounds the cemetery in October. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo October 2024)
Black-eyed susans are among the prairie wildflowers that grow on Valley Grove’s 50 acres. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
Stunning oak trees shelter a section of the cemetery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
Here, high atop a hill, a vista of fields and farm sites, of woods, of prairie grasses and wildflowers, sings of tranquility. My spirit quiets in the presence of this place. Here I can hear a rooster crowing from afar. Here I can feel the wind on my face. Here I can look into the expansive sky and imagine.
So many great messages on this tombstone. What a gift to the living. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
I can imagine a world of peace, hope, love, kindness. Words lifted from grave markers of the dead and given to the living. If only we choose to accept them and run with them, creating a kinder, gentler world.
The section in the foreground is where I found the words and messages featured here. An 1894 wood-frame church also graces this place. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
Simple, basic and powerful words on a tombstone. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
Poetically beautiful words on a gravestone plaque. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
These words I found within the cemetery. Hope. Help. Peace. Be kind. And many more. Words and messages I needed to read in the discord of today, in these unsettling times. Words that are chiseled onto stone, chosen by loved ones to honor those they loved or perhaps chosen by the dead before their deaths.
Zooming in on those incredibly powerful messages. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
On this day, I contemplated the power of these enduring words and quotes which inspire, encourage, uplift. These words weather storms, stand granite-strong and unchanging here under the Minnesota sky of snow and rain and scorching sun.
A reminder of what we need, especially now. Peace on all levels. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
As I walked in this particular section of the cemetery, I felt gratitude toward those who likely lived the words inscribed upon their tombstones. I would have liked them and the examples they set by living generously, selflessly, compassionately. I would have appreciated how they lived with care, kindness, optimism and so much more. How they helped their neighbor. Loved. Served. Did everything they could to create a better world by their loving words and actions.
And then I found one of my favorite words, hope, on a tombstone. Hope, always hold hope. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
This I found at Valley Grove. Among the tombstones, among the dead. Messages for the living that resonate, that hold wisdom and shine like a billion bright stars piercing the darkness.
I purchased this retro peace tray at an antique shop in St. Charles, MN., in 2015. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2015)
PEACE. Sometimes it feels especially elusive. And today, the day before the election (because I am writing this Monday afternoon), peace eludes me. I am so unsettled that I am binge-eating potato chips. I can’t recall the last time I had a bag of potato chips in the house or engaged in this type of eating behavior. This just is not me, someone who tries to eat healthy. But I am stressed.
I hope I feel differently in a few days. Feelings about my personal peace aside, I hope peace washes over the entire nation. We need it.
We need a calming, a break from all the negativity and barrage of craziness (a word I don’t often use and don’t particularly like, but it fits here). We need a return to normalcy and decency and respect.
We need to start caring about one another again, to stop the attacks and finger pointing and all the behavior that spirals us into discord. There’s been way too much bullying, too much name-calling, too many lies, too much degrading and hateful rhetoric. Too much. I want it to end. And I imagine I am not alone in feeling that way.
Peace. I’m talking inner peace. I’m talking peace within families and neighborhoods and schools and communities, where, even if we disagree, we can get along, set aside our differences, listen, compromise, work together.
When I was coming of age in the tumultuous early 1970s, peace was a buzzword. It was everywhere. On protest signs, in fingers flashed, in words spoken, on clothing, in pleas made… Looking back to that time period, I recognize that peace felt elusive then, too. But somehow we found our way back, until we didn’t.
NOTE: As the creator of this blog, I moderate all comments. This post is not meant to spark political sparring, but rather reflects my thoughts and feelings.
This shows a portion of a photo by Steve Somerstein featured in a 2015 exhibit, “Selma to Montgomery, Marching Along the Voting Rights Trail,” at St. Olaf College in Northfield, MN. (Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo)
FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER, I voted early, in person. I waited in line for 30 minutes to cast my ballot. I didn’t mind. And I’m not a patient person. But this, this election, especially, I wanted to ensure that nothing would stop me from voting. Because we never know what life will throw at us at the last minute, I decided voting early was the right choice for me.
Genola City Hall, where I found a sample primary ballot posted on the door in September. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
A woman staffing my polling place shared that “busy” and “a steady stream” have been the norm at this location since absentee/early voting opened in Minnesota. It’s clear that people are invested in this election, more so than any I can ever recall. There’s a lot at stake. And we have a voice in the outcome.
A close-up of the sample primary ballot on the door of the Genola City Hall. Genola is a small town in Morrison County in central Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
My ballot included not only the all important Presidential race, but also voting for those who will represent me in Washington DC, St. Paul and locally (school board, city council, mayor, etc.). There were additional questions on the ballot about a local sales tax and about continuing to fund environmental programs with state lottery monies.
I attended local candidate forums sponsored by the American Association of University Women, read newspaper Q & A’s and more to learn about people and issues on the ballot. The forums proved especially eye-opening. Audience members were able to anonymously submit written questions to the moderator and you can bet I did. People don’t always come across the same in person as they do in print or other media. The value of forums/debates/whatever you want to term them is in the unexpected. Being put on the spot. Hearing questions that may otherwise not have been asked. Listening not only to how a candidate responds, but also observing their body language and interaction with other candidates.
I photographed these ballot instructions inside an historic building at the fall 2024 Rice County Steam & Gas Engines Show, rural Dundas, MN. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
When I went to my polling place, I knew exactly who would get my vote. I felt fully-informed. There was never a question about what’s important to me. I value honesty, integrity, compassion, a candidate who cares and truly represents the people he/she serves. An individual who works for the common good, not for himself/herself and his/her personal agenda and power. An individual who listens, to everyone. An individual who does not degrade others. At the local level, I want someone who keeps politics out of places they don’t belong. I value that. I value truth.
The American and Minnesota state flags fly on the campus of the Minnesota State Academy for the Deaf, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
I value freedom, democracy, the right to vote my conscience.
Please exercise your right to vote if you haven’t already done so. It’s your responsibility as an American.
NOTE: This post is not meant to spark political debate or discord, but rather to share the importance of voting and what centers my vote. As the creator of this blog, I moderate all comments. The decision whether to publish a comment or not is my choice.
Faribault is home to people from many countries as noted on this interactive map at a past International Festival in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
TWO DAYS. TWO CONVERSATIONS. And I am the richer for meeting Adolfo and Jose and hearing their stories.
I should backtrack a bit and state that for me to strike up conversations with people I don’t know is not unusual. Such interactions widen my world, broaden my understanding and simply help me learn more about others.
It was little Milan, Adolfo’s one-year-old grandson, who initially drew me to pause during a morning walk through Faribault’s Central Park. Adolfo was pushing Milan in an umbrella stroller when Randy and I crossed paths with them. Milan, with his big brown eyes, black hair and radiant smile, is the essence of cuteness. Cute babies and kids are always a reason to stop and chat.
The pair walk through the park every morning as Adolfo cares for Milan while his mom is at work. I don’t recall whether Mom is Adolfo’s daughter or daughter-in-law. Doesn’t matter. What matters is the deep love Adolfo has for family and his willingness to care for his grandson before heading to work in the afternoon.
Kids used markers to create flags from their native countries while attending the local International Festival. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
ESCAPING COMMUNIST VENEZUELA
I asked Adolfo about his background, what brought him to Faribault. He moved here from Orlando to be with family. But he’s originally from Venezuela. His home country, he said, is not a good place to live. The reason: Communism and violence. He left family behind and desperately wants them here, safe in America.
By that time, little Milan was out of his stroller, pushing it, then dropping to the ground, his pants covered in bits of dried leaves, his tiny hands clasping two Matchbox cars. He is close to walking alone. Milan proved a distraction from the deep pain Adolfo obviously feels separated from his family still in Venezuela.
“We’re so happy to have you here,” I told my new friend. And I genuinely meant that as my heart hurt for this man who has endured so much already.
“God bless you,” Adolfo said, as he made the sign of the cross, held his hands to his heart.
Adolfo repeated our names several times, clearly an effort on his part to remember them. I repeated his, too, and Milan’s, and wished I knew Spanish. Adolfo spoke Spanish to Milan, who is being raised bilingual. What a gift to that little boy with the big brown eyes, with the loving family, with the Grandpa whom I consider kind, caring, loving and brave.
Children gather at Faribault’s Central Park to break a pinata during an International Festival. This photo placed first in a local photo contest and remains one of my favorite. I love that it reflects the diversity of Faribault and shows kids simply being kids with no thought of ethnicity. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
FINDING A WELCOMING NEW HOME IN RURAL MINNESOTA
A day later I met Jose, a young man taking his lunch break at a park near Montgomery. He was working there for the Le Sueur County park system. Jose moved to nearby Le Center 15 years ago, having lived in California, Texas and Mexico. Like Adolfo, Jose is grateful to be here, with family. I told him how happy I am to have him living in Minnesota.
It didn’t take long before he opened up about how much he feels welcomed here, how he’s learned to love our four seasons, even winter. Jose shared about learning to drive in winter. And then he recounted being “baptized by black ice.” He walked onto the unseen ice and found himself flailing backwards. This part of Jose’s story included theatrical actions that left all of us laughing.
What a delightful young man. He’s hardworking, loves his family and likes living in a rural area. To hear that he’s found Minnesotans to be friendly pleases me. The reality is that not everyone welcomes individuals like Jose and Adolfo. I do.
I am the richer for having met these two men, whose life experiences and stories are vastly different than mine. Yet, we are the same. We have families and heartaches and hopes and dreams. That commonality connects us. And so does our humanity.
We followed roads west of Faribault toward the Kilkenny and Montgomery areas. I gave up trying to keep track of where we were. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
THE WHEELS KICKED UP DUST as our van moved along back gravel roads in Rice and Le Sueur counties on a recent weekday. Randy and I were on a fall color drive that took us past cornfields and farm sites, past woods and wetlands, past trees blazing orange and those still green.
This farm site sits along Leroy Avenue, just off 160th St. W. between Shieldsville and Kilkenny. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
As we wound our way along winding roads and along straight grids west of Faribault, I felt what I always feel this time of year—a longing for the land. In this season of harvest, this season of leaves coloring the landscape, I yearn to connect with the soil, the earth, the agrarian heritage that roots me.
Corn awaits harvesting. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
I miss the land. I miss the roar of combines harvesting corn and soybeans, golden grain spilling into wagons or trucks. I miss the distinct, indescribable scent of autumn rising from fields. I miss all of it. A country drive in October helps ease the heartache of one who grew up on a farm, but left it fifty years ago.
This curving gravel road took us past wooded hillsides and a wetlands restoration area. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
This is the time of year, whether you’re rural, small town or city-raised, to take a drive into the countryside. Off paved roads. Onto gravel routes.
Some treelines were vivid with color, others not. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
I am always drawn to barns rising above the landscape. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
A rural intersection ablaze in color. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
Gravel forces a slower pace, offers opportunities to stop and appreciate that which unfolds before you. On this drive, it was the coloring of trees, just beginning, aged farm sites back-dropped by woods or surrounded by fields. Just being here in the rural-ness honored my past, filled my soul.
A Czech church and cemetery west of Montgomery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
And then we paused at an historic country church nestled among cornfields near Montgomery. We walked the expansive cemetery. As I meandered and took photos, I heard the wind rustling the dried corn leaves, a comforting sound in the silence of the land.
Anna and John Frolik are among the early settlers buried at Budejovice. They were born in 1886 and 1887. Their photos adorn their tombstone. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
I wondered about the Czech immigrants who settled in the area, built Budejovice Church in 1868. What were their heartaches, their stories, their hopes and dreams? I expect they longed for the Old Country, for the familiarity of home, for the loved ones an ocean away.
This machine shed, surrounded by cornfields, sits just across the gravel road from the church and cemetery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
Such thoughts filter through my mind whenever I am among the souls of the departed, my soles touching the land under which they lie buried. I don’t feel sadness as much as a sense of respect for those who came before me, who forged a new life in Minnesota with grit, determination and a whole lot of fortitude.
Cornfields flank a gravel road leading to a colorful treeline. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
Driving the countryside in autumn evokes not only nostalgia and reflection, but also a sense of time passing. Leaves turn color. Crops morph to golden hues, ready for harvest, or already harvested. And dust rises from the land, carried on the wind, coating our van. Miles and miles and miles of gravel roads behind us, we arrive home. I’m exhausted. My shoes are covered in dust. But I feel content. Replenished. I needed this, this country drive that was about much more than viewing fall colors. It was also about filling my soul.
Sunflowers are drooping, like this one in the Rice County Master Gardeners’ Teaching Gardens, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
I’M BEGINNING TO FEEL this sense of urgency, as if I need to spend more time outdoors taking in the natural world. It’s not a new feeling, but rather one which rolls into my thoughts at August’s end. When the calendar flips to September, everything shifts. I see it, hear it, smell it, feel it.
A dried oak leaf floats in a pond at the teaching gardens. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
Outside my front door, massive mophead hydrangeas are drying, morphing from green to brown. Once lush phlox are less full. Maple leaves, in hues of orange and yellow, litter the lawn. All over town, trees are beginning to change color.
Golden grasses sway in the gentle wind of early evening. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
Jolts of color still fill the garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
Prolific black-eyed susans. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
Crickets chirp. Cicadas buzz. School buses roll past my house. Everything is shifting. And nowhere is that more noticeable than in a garden.
This shows only a section of the teaching gardens. That’s an historic church, on the grounds of the Rice County Historical Society, in the background. The gardens are next to the RCHS museum. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
And so I encourage you, if you live in a place that will soon change to cold and colorless, to enjoy the flowers while they are still blooming, as I did recently at the Rice County Master Gardeners Teaching Gardens.
A mass of coneflowers. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
A rain garden flourishes here. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
A few clematis were still blooming when I walked the gardens. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
Come, walk with me through this space with its beds of blooms, its textured perennials, its overall loveliness.
An array of flowers fill the gardens. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
A muted hue that leans into autumn. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
The gardens include rock art, this one in the Rock Art Snake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
Or find your own garden in your place. Walk. Sit. Take it all in. And when the season shifts, when the flowers are long gone, when the trees have dropped their leaves, then remember this time, these days. Remember the beauty of it all. Remind yourself in the depths of winter how you paused to appreciate these days of summer transitioning into autumn.
This photo, taken at the Grant Wood Rest Area along I-380 south of Cedar Rapids, Iowa, was published in a book about architecture. It was converted to black-and-white in the book. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
THROUGHOUT MY 15 YEARS of blogging, I’ve sold rights to dozens of images sourced from Minnesota Prairie Roots. My photos have published on websites, in tourism guides, on album covers, on packaging for a toy company, in magazines and newspapers, on business promotional materials, on signs and banners, on the cover of a nonprofit’s annual report, in books…
Three of my photos published in this book. (Book cover sourced online)
My Laura Look-Alike Contest photo displayed in a Chicago museum. My friend Laurel happened upon the photo while touring the museum and snapped this image for me. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo by Laurel Engquist)
Likewise, I had the honor of selling rights to photos displayed in a temporary Laura Ingalls Wilder exhibit at the American Writer’s Museum in Chicago, at the Minnesota Children’s Museum in St. Paul and at the National WWII Museum in New Orleans. Atherton Pictures purchased rights to a southwestern Minnesota farm site photo for a WWII video created for the museum. I’ve never visited any of the three museums.
The Minnesota Veterans Home, Bemidji, which can house 72 veterans, recently opened. (Photo courtesy of Minnesota Veterans Home, Bemidji)
Seldom do I see how my photos are used once I email the original high resolution digital images to the buyer. But this summer I had the joy of seeing my framed photos displayed in hallways of the new Minnesota Veterans Home in Bemidji. I was in town to bring my son, who lives in Boston and was in Bemidji for the international unicycling convention, home to Faribault. I knew I had to make time for a stop at the veterans home.
So in between Unicon 21 events, Randy and I headed to the vets home in hopes of seeing my six framed art prints. We found four, thanks to Maryhelen Chadwick, public affairs/volunteer coordinator at the Veterans Home. When we showed up unexpectedly, Chadwick graciously led us through the sprawling Town Center in search of my photos. There, in the hallways of this public space, which includes a multipurpose room, theater, club room, learning studio, family dining room, therapy gym and meditation room, we located four of my photos.
This photo, converted to black-and-white, hangs in the Bemidji veterans home. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
My photo of the Traveling Vietnam Memorial Wall also hangs in the vets home. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Curated by a St. Paul art company, the selected images are all veteran-themed. Oversized photos of veterans’ memorials in Faribault and Northfield anchor a hallway wall. Elsewhere in the public space are two more images shot in Faribault—a veteran playing taps at a Memorial Day program and a photo of items placed at the Traveling Vietnam Memorial Wall. Chadwick later found my photos of sculptures at the county memorial in Faribault and the Rock County Veterans Memorial, Luverne, in the residential wing of the veterans home.
My father, Elvern Kletscher, on the left with two of his soldier buddies in Korea. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo)
To see four of my six photos showcased in a public space where veterans, their families and friends, staff, and others can view my work is humbling. I am the daughter of a Korean War veteran. My dad, Elvern Kletscher, fought on the front lines in Korea as a foot soldier. He experienced the worst of war. The injuries. The killing. Atrocities so awful, so horrific that he was forever changed by his time in combat. He suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (unrecognized at the time of his discharge). He endured much pain, heartache, trauma. Nightmares. Flashbacks.
My photo of a sculpture at the Rock County Veterans Memorial, lower right, is showcased in a group of images in the Beltrami Household. (Photo courtesy of Minnesota Veterans Home, Bemidji)
But, in his later years of life, Dad found solace among other veterans in a support group through the Redwood County Veterans Service office. I remember how hard officials worked to secure the Purple Heart that Dad finally got 47 years after he was wounded on Heartbreak Ridge. I was there for that emotional public ceremony.
My photo of a dove and eagle at the Rice County Veterans Memorial in Faribault graces a hallway of the Beltrami Household. (Photo courtesy of Minnesota Veterans Home, Bemidji)
Today emotions swell again as I think of my framed photos hanging in the Minnesota Veterans Home—Bemidji. To me these are not just veterans-related images procured as art. They are a photographic “thank you” to every person who has served our country. Because of individuals like my dad, I live in a free country, in a democracy. I never take that for granted. To be able to express my gratitude via my photos is truly an honor, a joy and deeply meaningful.
I hope my photo of a dove sculpture, symbolizing peace, and an eagle, symbolizing freedom, conveys my gratitude to the veterans living in the Minnesota Veterans Home, Bemidji. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
NOTE: Maryhelen Chadwick kindly found and photographed my eagle/dove and soldier sculpture photos per my request after I visited the home. They hang in the Beltrami Household, one of four 18-room residential areas, a space I could not tour due to privacy.
A garden graces a side entry to The Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
AMONG THE FLOWERS, trees and shrubbery fronting a side entry to the space that connects church to guild house, three red benches nestle. Bold. Vibrant. Statement pieces in a garden at The Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour.
Construction on the original part of the Cathedral began in 1862 and was completed in 1869. It is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
But those benches outside the massive limestone church towering above the landscape along Second Avenue across from Central Park in Faribault serve as more than a place to rest. They are a place for prayers.
Prayer ribbon instructions posted on a bench. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Ribbons, representing prayers, are tied to the slatted benches. A sign explains: PRAYER CHANGES THINGS. All are welcome. Take and tie a ribbon. Say a prayer or let your ribbon be your prayer.
Choose a ribbon from the bag. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
What a creative idea. A Ziploc bag of multi-colored ribbons hangs on one of the benches. Each hue represents a different prayer. Green for forgiveness. Blue for thanksgiving. Orange for self-control. Pink for kindness. Yellow for patience. Purple for joy.
One of the three garden benches is covered with prayer ribbons. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
These prompts prove soul-searching. Too often prayers focus on needs/wants/desires, not tough topics like forgiveness and self-control. And how often we forget to express gratitude and joy in prayer.
Ribbons representing prayers of joy, kindness and self-control. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
To be reminded of these traits, these feelings, these thoughts can only make us kinder, gentler, better people.
A historical marker at the Cathedral summarizes its history. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
The Cathedral sign lists community connections. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
That follows a guiding principle of the Cathedral as a place “where history meets heart.” The Cathedral, since it’s founding in the mid-1800s, has long centered on community. Bishop Henry Whipple befriended the Dakota people and many more. Today the church still opens its doors—as the site of the Community Cafe (serving free meals weekly to the community), as a venue for free concerts, as a historic site to tour, as an active participant in Faribault’s annual Heritage Days celebration, as a location for Red Cross blood drives…
Ribbons representing patience, thanksgiving and joy. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
And now this seemingly small, yet powerful thing, this beckoning to ponder and place prayers upon public benches. Prayer changes things. Just as a faith family can, when thoughts and ideas expand into actions. Actions that embrace community, providing a welcoming place to gather, to celebrate, to contemplate life.
An inviting entry garden…with prayer beribboned benches. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
We all hold the capacity to forgive, to thank, to control our thoughts, words and behavior, to practice kindness, to exercise patience, to express joy. If tying a ribbon to a red bench encourages self-reflection and positive change, then that is a good thing. We can always be better, do better, live better, in ways that improve our lives and the lives of those around us.
At the Kenyon Public Utilities building, signage marks the birth and bicentennial of our country from 1776-1976. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
BUILT BY THE PEOPLE FOR THE PEOPLE. I suppose in many ways that could describe the building of America. We are a nation built by the people on the principles of freedom, of democracy. That’s important to remember in the hoopla of the Fourth of July, a holiday synonymous with BBQs, parades, fireworks and a day off from work.
Spotted on a house in Kenyon. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
But the founding of our country, the birth of a nation, is at the core of our July Fourth celebration. Or at least it should be.
A stunning house along Red Wing Avenue showcases beautiful landscaping and the red-white-and-blue. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
On recent day trips to several small towns in southern Minnesota, I noticed the red-white-and-blue on full display. Visual reminders that loyalty to country and liberty are still cherished.
A flag flies at Kenyon’s hardware store. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
I appreciate when people, businesses, governments showcase the colors of this country in ways that honor and respect the integrity of America. Not to make a political statement.
Patriotism in carved eagles and an American flag in a Kenyon neighborhood. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
In Kenyon, a rural community of just under 2,000 in Goodhue County, I found an array of red-white-and-blue. From Main Street to residential neighborhoods, locals have infused the colors of our country into the landscape.
Allan and Connie Turner have lots of kitschy handcrafted art in their yard at the corner of Red Wing Avenue and Eighth Street next to the Kenyon water tower. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2024)
American made sold at All Seasons Thrift Store. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Patriotic bags for sale in the thrift shop. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Flags fly. Kitschy yard art celebrates the Fourth. Even inside a thrift store, American pride shows.
An American and MIA flag fly at the Kenyon Post Office. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
An American flag is barely visible to the right as a sprayer passes Kenyon’s veterans’ memorial. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
A patriotic barn and porch quilt, available at D & S Banner, Sign & Print. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
This is America. From small town to big city. From coast-to-coast. No matter where we live in this big wide country, we are, today, one nation celebrating the birth of our nation.
One of several flag decals in the windows of the VFW. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Happy birthday, America! And happy Fourth of July, dear readers!
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Recent Comments