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!
American pride displayed at a brewery in Montgomery, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
A flag flies from the popular Franke’s Bakery in downtown Montgomery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
How often have you sung those words, heard those lyrics, considered the meaning of our national anthem? Perhaps, after time, the words have become simply rote, voiced without much thought of their meaning.
A flag rock in a flower garden at Most Holy Redeemer Catholic School. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Our nation’s birthday seems a good time to ponder the depth of bravery required to attain and maintain our freedom. It’s come at great cost with loss of life and physical, mental and emotional trauma. And, at times, with events that have rocked the very core of our democracy.
A flag flies near The Monty Bar, a mammoth building anchoring a corner. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Through everything, our flag still waves—sometimes tattered, torn and abused—but still there. A symbol of our country and the freedoms we live.
Patriotic art on Legion Post 79 is part of The Montgomery Wings Mural Walk. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
It always amazes me how small towns, especially, fly so many American flags. Take Montgomery, a southern Minnesota community that honors its veterans with photos and bios of them posted throughout the downtown area. Montgomery also flies a lot of U.S. flags.
To the far right in this photo, an oversized flag flies along Main Street Montgomery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Those flags mostly grace lampposts, but also flagpoles, businesses and flower gardens. The red-white-and-blue flashes color into Main Street and elsewhere, creating a visual of patriotism. There’s something about a crisp, new American flag publicly displayed that swells the heart with love of country.
Another flag rock in a Most Holy Redeemer garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
My country ‘tis of Thee, sweet land of liberty of Thee I sing…let freedom ring.
A flag drapes on a pole outside The Rustic Farmer on Main, an event center and community gathering spot in Montgomery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Let freedom ring, unsuppressed by anyone who may attempt to silence it via words, actions, ego, authority. Let freedom ring strong and loud in this land.
Even small flags like this in the storefront window of a cleaning service make an impact. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Let the flag fly as a symbol of a free people, a free country, where democracy is to be valued, cherished and respected.
Montgomery has a lot of drinking establishments and a lot of American flags. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
This Fourth of July, the 248th birthday of the United (emphasis on united) States of America, let’s remember the freedoms we have and vow to always honor them. Always.
This eagle graces the veterans’ memorial in Morristown. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file June 2024)
AMERICAN FLAGS, eagles, freedom, democracy…those symbols, those words imprint upon my vision, upon my mind as I consider our nation’s 248th birthday on July 4.
Outside the Morristown Legion, a place to dispose of worn out American flags, which are then burned in a special ceremony held by Legion members. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Admittedly, recent years have proven challenging on so many levels in our country. Division, chaos, discontent have been all too common. That cannot be denied. But, on the Fourth of July, I hope we can all pause, set aside our differences, and appreciate the freedoms we have as U.S. citizens. I hope we understand, too, that our freedoms should never be taken for granted. Ever.
Eagle art on the exterior of the Corner Bar in Waterville. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
A message spotted on a house in downtown Waterville. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Patriotism in the front window of Twin Lakes Auto Parts in Waterville. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
On recent day trips to small southern Minnesota communities, I captured images that express love of country. I appreciate those displays of American pride seen along Main Streets. From flags to messages to art, these are reminders that our democracy is to be cherished and celebrated.
Nearby July 4 celebrations are promoted on the Morristown Legion sign. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2024)
All across my region of Minnesota, small towns host July Fourth celebrations. Families and neighbors gather for backyards BBQs. Kids wave flags. Fireworks erupt in the black night sky.
Posted in the window of Bridge Square Barbers in Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
There is reason to feel jubilant and hopeful and proud to be an American.
Roses bloom in the Rice County Master Gardeners Teaching Gardens at the Rice County Fairgrounds in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
OH, HOW BEAUTIFUL the flowers that gardeners tend. Petals flash color, painting the landscape in bold and delicate hues. Flowers dip and bend in the wind like silent writers penning poetry. Flowers inspire, bring joy, carry love stories and memories.
Delicate pink flowers in a garden at the Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Flowers have always been a part of my life. From my paternal grandma’s unruly flowerbeds to my mom’s rows of colorful zinnias in the vegetable garden to my own flowers growing in a chaotic mess, I’ve delighted in blooms.
Clematis climb an arched trellis at the teaching gardens. An historic church and school, part of the Rice County Historical Society, are a lovely backdrop. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Vivid yellow lilies jolt color into Cathedral gardens. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Another Cathedral lily. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
At one time I could identify flower parts, like those shown in this lily close-up blooming at the Cathedral. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Right now, the lilies are in full bloom. They appear a sturdy lot to me, a lesson in botany with stamens and pistils and all those parts I once learned in a long ago science class. Now I don’t care much about that, just the beauty my eyes take in as I wander among the flowers.
An inviting garden, complete with benches, graces the northside entry to the Cathedral. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Iris bloom at the Cathedral. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
For use at the teaching gardens when needed. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
I’m thankful for the volunteers who plant, weed and care for flower gardens created out of a love of gardening and out of a desire to beautify a community. It takes time, effort, commitment, and that does not go unnoticed by me.
A clump of daisies, similar to these photographed at Faribault Energy Park, grow on my boulevard. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo July 20219)
Life is full of opportunities to brighten this world. Flowers are one way. I watched the other day from my living room window as a young boy picked a daisy from an errant patch growing in the boulevard by my house. Then his mom plucked one, too, tucking a single stem into the front of her tank top. I didn’t care that they picked the daisies. I could see how happy it made them.
At the teaching gardens, flowers ladder a stem. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
The daisy, such a simple flower, blooming profusely in the grass next to a busy street. Bent by the wind and rain, as if bowing to the earth. The daisy has always been a sunny favorite of mine. Daisies were woven into my bridal bouquet, my bridesmaids’ baskets of flowers and corsages on my wedding day 42 years ago. Flowers hold love stories, memories.
Fanciful astilbe grow in the teaching gardens. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
In bloom at the Cathedral. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Spots of purple in a Cathedral garden like a single line of poetry. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
I expect, if pressed, anyone could share a flower story. Stories of love and loss, celebration and sorrow, gratitude and healing. Flowers hold stories as much as they write them. Creativity thrives in their bold and delicate hues, in the way they grow and flourish and fade. In the way they stand or bend in the wind, like silent writers penning poetry.
Photographed at the Rice County Master Gardeners garden in Faribault on one of my meandering walks. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
WHEN I GO FOR A WALK, I’m either walking to primarily exercise or to photograph. One involves fast-paced movement to increase my heart rate. The other entails a leisurely pace of observing the world around me.
There was a time when I always carried my camera. No more. I need to feel the freedom of just being, without thought of, oh, I need to photograph that. If I’m without my 35 mm digital camera and absolutely need to take a photo, I will use my smartphone.
An example of exercises I did in vestibular rehab therapy. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2023)
A NEW PERSPECTIVE
What prompted this change? My health. Last summer was, for me, the summer that wasn’t. I was primarily housebound from April through September due to long haul COVID. You’ve probably read my story, detailed here. I dealt with balance, sleep, sensory and other issues. All aspects of my life were affected. I left my house only for medical appointments because I couldn’t handle being out in the world of noise, light, sound, movement. I felt overwhelmed. I sat in my darkened living room, curtains drawn, lights low, no sound.
But here I am, a year later, with six months of vestibular rehab therapy behind me, and doing significantly better. Time and a lot of hard work on my part got me to this better place health-wise. I still deal with residual sensory issues. But mostly, I manage. And when I don’t, I temporarily sequester myself.
That I am back walking and photographing is, in many ways, remarkable. Last summer I couldn’t walk half a block due to imbalance. And I certainly couldn’t use my camera. I credit my physical therapist for patiently working with me, helping me regain my sense of balance and build my tolerance and ability to manage sensory overload. There is hope for anyone dealing with similar issues. But it can be a difficult road. There’s no denying how often I felt unheard, unsupported, without hope.
My new prism-heavy prescription eyeglasses. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2024)
DEALING WITH VISION ISSUES
At the same time all of this was happening, I was experiencing increasing double vision. In late January, I had bilateral strabismus eye surgery to realign my eyes. It was successful until it wasn’t. In 10-20 percent of cases, the eyes shift back to misalignment post-surgery. Mine did. I opted to try prism-heavy prescription lenses before considering a third surgery. I had my initial eye surgery at age four.
Four weeks out from getting my new prescription eyeglasses, my eyes and brain are still adjusting. The prisms have mostly corrected my double vision. But I’m struggling with distorted close-up vision, specifically slanting. I’m hoping, with time, that will vanish. I also can’t see things clearly on my computer screen, which is problematic when writing and when processing photos.
But onward I forge. Sometimes I push myself too much, taking too many photos, doing too many things. That results in strained, aching eyes and headaches. Often I feel just plain tired due to all the effort it takes to simply see. My brain and my eyes are working hard to focus my vision.
A page from Eric Carle’s book, From Head to Toe.
TAKE NOTHING FOR GRANTED
Too often in life, we take things for granted—the ability to walk, to hear, to see. And then something happens to us or someone we love and we realize that, hey, none of these are givens. I recognize that I have a responsibility to take care of myself in the best way I can. Sometimes that means walking to stay fit and sometimes that means walking to feed my creative spirit.
Chops, seasoned potatoes and asparagus made on a charcoal grill and served on my mom’s 1970s Spring Blossom Green Corelle dinnerware, set on a vintage tablecloth. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
SCENT OF GARLIC permeates the air as Randy lifts the lid from his Weber grill, smoke momentarily pouring out. He flips the pork chops, adjusts the packets of potatoes and asparagus. I can hardly wait to taste the food he’s preparing. It’s always delicious.
I feel fortunate that my husband enjoys grilling year-round. Yes, even in the depths of a Minnesota winter, although he draws the line on cooking outdoors when a snowstorm rages. I appreciate the break from meal prep. And there’s nothing quite like food cooked over charcoal. Randy is a purist when it comes to grilling. No gas grill for him.
He’s a meat-and-potatoes man. So if I want something beyond the basics, I come up with a vegetable side. On this day, it’s fresh asparagus purchased at the Faribault Farmers’ Market. Asparagus is one of my favorite veggies. I keep it simple, drizzling the spears with olive oil and sprinkling them with freshly ground pepper and sea salt.
We dine outdoors this time of year. Randy carries the card table up from the basement. I select a vintage tablecloth from my vast collection. And then we settle onto lawn chairs grabbed from the garage. Nearby a tabletop fountain, which he gifted me years ago on our wedding anniversary, burbles. It helps mask the constant din of traffic along our busy street.
If the mosquitoes and flies aren’t hovering, it’s a lovely dining experience.
There’s nothing quite like dining alfresco in Minnesota this time of year. If you live in a mostly warm weather state, you perhaps take eating outdoors for granted. I don’t. Once the weather warms here, I prefer to eat outdoors—on our patio or, on the rare occasion we eat out, on a restaurant patio/deck. We also often pack sandwiches, yogurt, fruit and nuts for a picnic lunch at an area park. It’s all about being outside, sunshine warming our backs, breeze brushing our skin, birds singing, lush green filling our vision.
Great food consumed outdoors, now that’s a Minnesota dining experience that feeds body and soul.
A welcoming sign photographed earlier this year in the children’s section of Buckham Memorial Library, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2024)
KNOWLEDGE IS POWER. Not in the sense of personal power, but in understanding. And I am always about growing my knowledge and understanding, especially within my community.
Faribault, like many neighboring communities, is culturally-diverse, home to immigrants, refugees and those who have received American citizenship. Somalis. Hispanics. Latinos. And others from countries that fit anything but the mostly White European backgrounds of rural Minnesotans. We are a state evolving in diversity, and I embrace that.
Hudda Ibrahim’s book offers an in-depth look at Somalis living in Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
Recently I met a central Minnesota author who was in town as part of an event celebrating Somali culture at the Paradise Center for the Arts. Hudda Ibrahim of St. Cloud, which has a sizable Somali population, was selling her books, including From Somalia to Snow—How Central Minnesota Became Home to Somalis. Although I didn’t purchase her book then, I eventually checked it out through my regional library system. That and her nonfiction children’s picture book, What Color Is My Hijab?
Hudda Ibrahim’s children’s book inspires girls to be whatever they want to bevia Ibrahim’s empowering words and Meenal Patel’s vivid art. (Book cover sourced online)
After reading those two books, I have better insights into the backgrounds, stories, culture and challenges of my new neighbors. Ibrahim writes with authenticity. She was born and raised in Africa (Somalia, Ethiopia and Kenya), came to the U.S. in 2006, teaches diversity and social justice in St. Cloud, and works closely with Somalis there. From Somalia to Snow includes interviews with Somalis in Ibrahim’s community along with her observations, insights and recommendations.
I quickly discovered that I had much to learn, even when it comes to understanding the basics. A person of Somali ethnicity is not a “Somalian,” as I’d incorrectly said, but rather a “Somali.” I appreciate that about Ibrahim’s writing. She doesn’t presume her readers know, making her book a really good source of basic, yet detailed and thorough, information.
I often see Somali men visiting in downtown Faribault, where many live. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2024)
I especially appreciated her chapter titled “Integration and Assimilation” because I’ve heard the comments from locals about how Somalis need to do this and that because they’re living in America now. Ibrahim states that Somalis prefer to “integrate,” not “assimilate.” That makes sense to me, that our new neighbors want to retain their cultural identity while also adapting to their new home. I think back to my own maternal ancestors who settled together near New Ulm in southern Minnesota and clung to their German identity, speaking in German, following customs and traditions from the Old Country. The same can be said for Scandinavians, who still eat lefse and lutefisk. Cultural identity is important to all of us.
So is family. Like my German ancestors settled together, so do those who come from Africa. They want to be near people who get them, understand them, share a language and faith and customs and culture. Jobs and family (clans) brought Somalis to St. Cloud, Ibrahim writes. Many work in meat-packing plants, just like in my community.
This sign for Somali food was posted at a past International Festival in Faribault. I especially like sambusa, a spicy, meat-filled triangular pastry. It was served at the recent Somali-focused event I attended. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Others have pursued higher education and entrepreneurship, opening businesses which serve primarily their community. I need only walk Faribault’s downtown business district to see numerous Somali-owned shops and restaurants. I love the color and culture they bring. And I love Somali tea, which I tried at that event where I met Ibrahim. It’s tea mixed with milk and spiced with cinnamon, ginger, cloves, cardamom… The scent is heavenly, the taste divine. And I can buy it locally.
Faribault is a culturally-diverse city, as seen in this image taken during a car show in downtown Faribault in 2015. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2015)
Ibrahim’s book is packed with insights: Somalis value oral communication over written. They are good oral poets. Restaurants often do not have printed menus, primarily because they serve Somalis. Muslims memorize the Quran (with 6,666 verses), a process that can take years. Socializing and community are important. Barriers remain in healthcare. There’s just a whole lot to learn via reading From Somalia to Snow. It starts with an overview of Somali history and then takes readers into the lives, cultures and challenges of Somalis living in Minnesota today. Thanks to Ibrahim’s writing, I now have a better understanding of my new neighbors. And for that I am grateful.
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Recent Comments