The Cannon River spills over the dam by the historic Ames Mill. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2025)
WE COME TO THE RIVER. The Cannon River, spilling over the dam by the Ames Mill. Roaring. Churning. Then flowing under the bridge and between the walls of the Riverwalk in downtown Northfield.
Enjoying beverages and time together beside the Cannon River in Bridge Square. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2025)
We come here on a Sunday afternoon, on an April day of temps pushing into the sixties, the sun beaming warmth upon us, upon the land, upon the river. To sit. To walk. To lean toward the river. To simply be outdoors on an exceptionally lovely spring day in southern Minnesota.
The mood feels anticipatory, joyful, as we walk ourselves, and some their dogs, along the riverside path.
Historic buildings hug the Cannon River (and Division Street) in Northfield’s quaint downtown. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2025)
I come with my Canon camera in hand. An observer. An appreciator of the sun, the sky, the warmth, the river, the historic buildings, the people and activities happening around me. In some ways, the scene seems Norman Rockwell-ish, Busy, yet tranquil. A slice of small town Americana. Everyday people enjoying each other, nature, the outdoors. Life.
Fishing by the Ames Mill dam. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2025)
Many carry fishing poles, tackle boxes, containers of bait. Anglers press against the riverside railing, dropping lines into the water far below.
Caught in the Cannon, a sucker fish. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2025)
I watch as a young man pulls in an unidentifiable-to-me fish (later identified as a white sucker by my husband). His friend snaps a photo of the proud angler and his first catch of the day.
The top section of the Riverwalk Poetry Steps. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2025)
After hanging around the river by Bridge Square for a bit, I descend the colorful Riverwalk Poetry Steps, a river poem crafted by a collaboration of 17 poets. We come to the river starry-eyed/across bridges reaching out to neighbors/over the river’s rushing waters…
Following the Riverwalk to find a fishing spot along the Cannon River. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2025)
I trail behind a couple, a family, a dog, another family, all of us connected by the water, by this place, on this spring day. I’m the only one to pause and read the poetry.
A family fishes the Cannon. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2025)
Atop the river wall, young women sit, sans shoes, while they fish. We all watch the river flow. Bobbers bob. A pair of ducks—one pure white—flies low, skimming the water before landing upon the surface of the Cannon.
“Lady Cannon,” a riverside mural by Maya Kenney and Raquel Santamaria. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2025)
Across the river, Lady Cannon watches. Fish swim in her tangled waves of locks, flowing like water down steps toward the river. She is the art of the Cannon.
On the pedestrian bridge looking toward the Cannon and the Ames Mill, right in the distance. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo April 2025)
I see art, too, in a railing shadowed upon the pedestrian bridge. I linger, mesmerized by the moving water, the riverside historic flour mill a block away.
There’s so much to take in here. So much that connects us. The sun, the sky, the land. And the river that flows beside and below us.
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.
Audrey Kletscher Helbling and Mickey Nelson inside The Junk Monkey. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo by Randy Helbling, September 2023)
SOMETIMES IN LIFE we meet a person only once. But they make such an impression upon us that we always remember them.
Milton “Mickey” Nelson of Clarks Grove was that person to me. I met Mickey in September 2023 while shopping at a vintage, collectibles and treasures shop in Faribault. After overhearing a conversation between him and shop owner Theresa, I initiated a conversation with Mickey and his daughter Michelle.
Eight months later, on May 14, 2024, this amazing man died, about a month short of his 104th birthday.
Mickey was a remarkable man, not only because of his longevity, but because of his generosity. At age 99, he decided to walk 100 miles by his 100th birthday. That in itself is an accomplishment for a centenarian. But Mickey took his goal the extra mile by raising $115,000 for Salvation Army food assistance during the COVID-19 pandemic via his daily half to mile-long walks in Clarks Grove. He remembered the bread lines of the Great Depression.
That’s the thing about Mickey, a World War II veteran. He cared. I felt that immediately upon meeting him. His smile stretched wide, to the corners of his eyes. He was sharp and engaged and the type of person anyone would be happy to meet, to call “friend.”
In that brief interaction with Mickey, I felt such a connection, as if I’d known this delightful man for years. Michelle confirmed that her dad, too, “valued those (unexpected/everyday) connections.” He had a way about him that made me feel cherished, even though we’d just met.
Today his loved ones and friends are left to cherish his memory, as are those who heard or read his story, shared locally and nationally, perhaps even internationally. I doubt Mickey ever expected that his plan to walk 100 miles by his 100th birthday to raise money for one of his favorite charities would captivate such media attention. But it did, inspiring many.
Mickey’s funeral service is planned for June 27 at First Baptist Church in Clarks Grove, on what would have been his 104th birthday. I think he would have liked that and I hope birthday cake is served. Up until nearly the end, this man of a strong and unwavering faith remained mentally sharp, his daughter Michelle shared. I’m not surprised. Michelle and I kept in touch after our chance meeting at The Junk Monkey eight months ago. I knew her dad had begun failing in late December and soon thereafter entered hospice.
Even through the emotional challenges that come with watching a parent moving toward death, Michelle remained grateful for the remaining time she had with her much-loved father. The bond between father and daughter was strong, loving, caring. That, too, is something to be cherished.
Mickey was remarkable. I feel blessed to have met this man of generous spirit, of kind heart, of compassion and care and love unending. I feel grateful for my time with him. Even if brief, Mickey made such an impression upon me that I will always, always remember him.
Raspberry chicken salad, one of the best salads I’ve eaten, at the Amboy Cottage Cafe, Amboy, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
FOR MANY OF US, these early January days prompt thoughts of embracing a healthier lifestyle. Eating better, exercising, losing weight, reducing stress and more top lists. But taking this from ideas to action requires determination and hard work.
If you live in a cold weather climate like me, getting motivated and active during the winter can prove challenging. Just the thought of bundling up to go outdoors makes me wish for warmer, sunnier days. This time of year, I’d rather snuggle under a fleece throw and read.
These as yet unused grippers will go over my snow boots to keep me safe on snowy and icy surfaces. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2024)
But I’m determined in 2024 to work harder at appreciating winter. I won’t be taking up downhill skiing or ice skating. But I am open to trying cross country skiing and snowshoeing decades out from my last attempt at either. I’ll leave ice fishing for the die-hard anglers. And I can certainly walk/hike, especially now that I have clamp-on Snow Trax with tungsten carbide spikes for gripping snowy and icy surfaces. I have not yet tested them to see if they actually work as promised. We’ve had only minimal snow and ice. Of one thing I’m certain. I can’t risk falling and breaking a bone. Not at my age, which is closing in on 70.
Inside the Shattuck-St. Mary’s soccer dome. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2023)
If I really want to play it safe and simultaneously stay warm, I can walk indoors. Shattuck-St. Mary’s, a private college prep school on Faribault’s east side, opens its dome to the public from 6:10 – 9:30 am weekdays for running and walking. Five loops around the soccer field perimeter equal about a mile, the distance Randy and I typically walk. It’s truly amazing that I can go this far given six months ago I could barely manage to walk a block due to the affects of long haul COVID.
The curving Straight River as photographed from the Straight River Trail, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2023)
On days when temps are not horribly cold and the wind is calm, I much prefer walking outside. There’s something about being outdoors, in nature, that is more relaxing, calming than in an indoor environment. I like the feel of sunshine on my face, even the crisp air, and the sight of twisting river and bare trees and a sometimes bold, blue sky. Last time walking at the Minnesota State Academy for the Deaf campus, 10 deer stood statue still watching Randy and me as we stood statue still watching them. I felt such joy in seeing this wildlife in the heart of my community.
Pre-long haul COVID, I was lifting 12-pound weights. I’ve resumed lifting weights, but not 12 pounds yet. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2024)
Walking and weight lifting, along with taking Vitamin D and getting sufficient calcium in my diet, are ways I am improving my health, too, specifically my bone health. Dairy has always been an important part of my daily food in-take given I grew up on a dairy farm. I like lifting hand weights. I feel empowered and stronger. With a family history of osteoporosis, my own diagnosis, two past broken bones and my tall, thin frame, I take bone health seriously.
Then there’s diet beyond dairy. If one good thing came from developing long haul COVID in 2023, it was losing 25 pounds. Granted, I wouldn’t recommend this weight loss plan. But I’m happy to have a current body mass index of 20.7, which is on the lower end of my “normal” weight range.
Oatmeal laced with fruit is my typical breakfast. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2014)
I find I no longer crave sweets as much as I once did. With the kids long gone from home, I seldom bake. I eat a bowl of old-fashioned oatmeal with fresh fruit added nearly every morning and have done so for many years. It took several weeks of eating oatmeal for the grain to grow on me. In the back of my head, I remembered how much my father-in-law disliked oatmeal, so much so that he stuffed oatmeal into his pockets at Catholic boarding school. Not quite sure how he managed that as a young lad under the watchful eyes of the nuns.
Flamin’ Bleupizza from Pizzeria 201 in Montgomery, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
I try to eat smaller portions, avoid junk food and bread, and eat plenty of fruits and vegetables (which I love). Admittedly, I also love pizza, a grilled cheese sandwich, cheesecake, ice cream, etc. and don’t deny myself foods that aren’t necessarily “good” for me. It’s about portion control. Have a small scoop of ice cream, not several. On occasion, I’ve been known to devour a handful of dark chocolate chips when I’m craving chocolate.
Seldom do I dine out, for two reasons—cost and my inability to tolerate noisy environments due to sensory issues from long haul COVID. I’ve only eaten out a handful of times in the past year. Twice I left because I couldn’t manage the noise. While I appreciate restaurants, I recognize that such dining can lead to overeating and consuming calorie-laden foods because, who isn’t tempted by French fries?
Walking is one way to reduce stress. Many communities have trails, perfect for walking even in the winter. This photo was taken along the Straight River Trail near Fleckenstein Bluffs Park in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo February 2023)
Reducing stress is perhaps my biggest challenge. I tend to worry, to ruminate. And that is unhealthy. I’m getting better at letting go, at lessening demands on myself, on understanding that life never has been, and never will be, perfect.
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TELL ME: What do you do to stay healthy? What goals have you set for 2024?
Randy follows the trail along the Cannon River in North Alexander Park, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2022)
BEFORE TUESDAY TEMPS ROSE to around 40 here in southern Minnesota, there was the cold. Brutal cold. Mornings of minus below zero. Strong winds making the outdoors feel even colder.
Late Sunday morning, when the temperature hovered in the 20s with a brisk wind, Randy and I followed the paved trail bordering the Cannon River in North Alexander Park. It’s a favorite Faribault walking path.
River (left), tree and trail. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2022)
The river draws me here. I find waterways soothing, calming, quieting to the spirit, even when frozen.
I also appreciate how this particular path wends around trees and along the river. The curving trail invites a leisurely, poetic pace, a time for reflection, a time to slow down and delight in the natural world without distractions.
Little distracted us, except the trumpeting of two Trumpeter Swans gracefully flying high overhead as we exited the van to begin our walk. Absent were the usual crowds of waterfowl frequenting the river in Minnesota’s other seasons.
Biking the riverside trail on a fat tire bike. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2022)
We encountered only one other person—a biker zooming on a fat tire bike.
A spot of color at the basketball court. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2022)
It was the winter landscape which focused my attention. The whiteness of it all. The absence of color in a mostly grey and black-and-white world. Only the bold orange outlines on basketball rims and backboards jolted color into the scene. In the summer, young people cram these courts, dribbling and jumping and dunking and scoring points. Raucous play among youth, wonderful to witness.
A riverside picnic table remains, even in winter. In the background is the Faribault Woolen Mill, across the Cannon River. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2022)
On this February morning, summer lingers in memories of those pick-up basketball games, riverside picnics and following this trail in flip flops under leafy canopies of green.
I find bared branches particularly beautiful. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2022)
Today the branches bare themselves to winter. Naked, exposed, vulnerable.
Details in boot print, tire track and oak leaf. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2022)
I notice in the snow, next to the imprint of a boot and a bike tire track, a lone oak leaf. In any other season, I might miss this. But not now. Not in the depth of winter.
Finger drifts creep onto trail’s edge. In the distance to the right sits the Faribault Woolen Mill. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2022)
I notice, too, finger drifts along trail’s edge. Creeping. Stretching. Wind-blown fingers of snow that may be perceived as threatening. Or artsy. I choose artsy.
Randy heads back toward the van, along the riverside trail, the woolen mill in distant view across the Cannon River. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2022)
Across the river, I see the Faribault Woolen Mill, weaver of wool (and wool blend) blankets, throws, scarves and much more since 1865. The mill is widely-admired, respected for its quality products. Craftsmanship at its finest. As Randy and I retrace our steps, this time leaning into a strong wind, I would welcome a locally-woven wool scarf wrapped around my neck for warmth.
Soon we reach the van, climb inside the wind-sheltered space and head toward the park exit. It is then Randy spots a large bird overhead, following the river. An eagle, we determine, based on wing span, flight and river route. It’s too high for our aging eyes to fully verify identity. But we’ve seen eagles here before and that is enough. Enough to end our Sunday morning winter walk with the wonderment we always feel in watching this majestic bird tracing the Cannon River.
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TELL ME: If you live in a cold climate state, do you bundle up and head outdoors for recreational activities? Where do you go? What do you do?
WINTER IN MINNESOTA brings challenges. Ice. Snow. Cold. Sometimes I feel like simply curling up under a fleece throw with a good book and staying indoors until spring. But that’s neither realistic nor good for me.
So I determine that, despite the less than ideal weather, I need to get outside and get moving. Embrace winter the best I can.
A crack snakes through the semi frozen Cannon River in Faribault.
Recently Randy and I decided to hike at River Bend Nature Center, one of our favorite outdoor spots in Faribault. Although I mentioned the possibility of icy trails, we still opted to go there. Well, one shuffling walk down a paved trail across patches of ice and snow and I’d had enough slipperiness.
Yes, I’m a tad paranoid about falling given I’ve endured two broken bones in the past 1 ½ years, neither from falling on snow or ice-covered anything. I’m not risking broken bones simply to walk outside in the winter for recreational pleasure.
Randy follows the city trail along the Cannon River, the Faribault Woolen Mill in the distance.
I suggested instead that we head to a city trail which hugs the Cannon River in Faribault’s North Alexander Park. I was pretty certain the city would have cleared the paved path. I was right.
The outstretched American flag in the distance shows the strength of the wind on the day we walked the trail.
So, despite a bitter wind whipping across the water, we walked and I searched for photo ops. Winter offers far less of those. But I managed to grab some images before my fingers got too cold to further expose them to the elements.
It wasn’t a particularly long walk. But, still, I stretched my legs, observed nature and appreciated the glint of sunshine across patches of open water. And I wondered, why are those geese still hanging around? I’d be outta here if I had their wings.
The trail offers a vantage point to view vintage signage on the Faribault Woolen Mill building.
TELL ME: If you live in a cold weather state, how do you embrace the outdoors in winter? Or don’t you?
An overview of The Via Northfield exhibit at St. Olaf College, Northfield, Minnesota.
WHEN EXPECTATIONS DON’T MATCH reality, it is initially disappointing. But then, when you reflect, perception sometimes changes and an aha moment emerges. Such was the metamorphosis for me regarding Minneapolis artist and writer Andy Sturdevant’s The Via Northfield project showing now through April 17 at the Flaten Art Museum on the campus of St. Olaf College in Northfield.
The introduction to Andy Sturdevant’s project.
I expected a straight-forward documentary exhibit with journaling and photos of Sturdevant’s two-day, 40-mile trek from Powderhorn Park in Minneapolis to St. Olaf in September 2015. The Via Northfield was anything but. And if I’d bothered to research in advance of my recent exhibit tour, I would have realized Sturdevant would not follow my expected path. He walks a detoured path of creativity. And it works in the kind of artistic way that weaves the present and the past, stories with facts, visuals with words, into a multi-faceted exhibit.
A copy of a newspaper clipping summarizes the disappearnace of a man in a profoundly succinct way.
Pinpointing 15 locations (way stations) along his route, this artist focuses on specific place details through photos, newspaper clippings, artwork, stories and atypical items like a lost cat flier and a gravestone rubbing.
This photo of two Carleton students and their story captivated me.
My personal favorite is a photo of Carleton College students and an accompanying note. The trio walked from Northfield to the Mall of America, stopping to rest on a couch in a supercool yard in Eureka Township. The note, addressed to dear wonderful people, is signed Kathy, Wren and Bettina. The writer in me latched onto those names, especially the poetically-pleasing Wren.
Sturdevant focuses on places as specific as Eureka Township.
Sturdevant’s exhibit calls for close study. And, I’ll admit, I didn’t give it the complete focus it deserves as my energy waned at the end of a long day exploring rural Minnesota.
But I caught some details that caused me to laugh—like Sturdevant’s use of the words soybean farms to describe farms upon which soybeans are grown. I’ve never heard the term. I’ve ever only known such Minnesota farms as crop farms. I grew up on one.
And I laughed at a story about a Dundas man’s journey to a Fargo convention and a subsequent question, Is the Corner Bar still there? Yes, Dawn’s Corner Bar remains a corner anchor in downtown Dundas.
A snippet look at The Via Northfield.
These are the types of stories that connect an exhibit like The Via Northfield in a personal way to those who view it.
Sturdevant personalizes, too, by memorializing pedestrians who died along his traveled route. He uses black circles with name, date and sparse details.
A strong visual at the end of the exhibit.
Even his ripped pants hang on a wall.
At one of two tables, exhibit visitors can sit and file a Pedestrian Report…
…by following these instructions…
…and then using a typewriter…
…or a pencil…
…to record a personal story.
This exhibit isn’t just about reading and viewing. It’s also participatory. Viewers are welcome to file their stories in a Pedestrian Report typed on a manual typewriter or written in pencil. Not with any pencil, though, but rather with one imprinted:
I WALKED
“THE VIA NORTHFIELD”
MINNEAPOLIS TO NORTHFIELD, MINN.
The exhibit is promoted on a screen outside The Flaten Art Museum.
FYI:You can view The Via Northfield exhibit from 10 a.m. – 5 p.m. Monday – Wednesday, from 10 a.m. – 8 p.m. Thursday, from 10 a.m. – 5 p.m. Friday, and from 2 p.m. – 5 p.m. weekends at the Flaten Art Museum in the Dittmann Center on the campus of St. Olaf College, Northfield, Minnesota. Admission is free.
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