Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

What is this Minnesota bicyclist thinking? December 22, 2013

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Sun dogs photographed through the dirty passenger side window of the van this morning east of Lamberton along U.S. Highway 14.

Sun dogs photographed this morning through the dirty passenger side van window east of Lamberton along U.S. Highway 14 in southwestern Minnesota.

YOU KNOW IT’S COLD when sun dogs emerge, the wind whips flags straight out and a bank sign temperature reads five degrees Fahrenheit.

Strong winds drift snow across U.S. Highway 14 east of Lamberton this morning.

Strong winds drift snow across U.S. Highway 14 east of Lamberton this morning.

That would be southwestern Minnesota this morning as my family left my brother and sister-in-law’s rural Lamberton home after a family Christmas and began the 2 1/2-hour drive east back to Faribault.

After an hour on the road, we entered New Ulm where I photographed this scene at the intersection of Brown County Road 29 and U.S. Highway 14:

The biker, to the left in photo, caught my eye in New Ulm because of his attire.

The biker, to the left, caught my eye in New Ulm because of his attire.

Tell me, how could this bicyclist tolerate biking in shorts or without a cap on his head? I sincerely hope he didn’t have far to pedal on this official second day of winter. Exposed skin can freeze quickly in such brutal temps.

He was, at least, wearing gloves.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

My joyful experience ringing bells for the Salvation Army on a bitterly cold Minnesota day December 9, 2013

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SNUGGED IN A FLANNEL SHIRT and jeans, layered under my husband’s insulated coveralls and sweatshirt, and with wool socks, insulated winter boots and mittens covering my extremities and a festive hat adding a holiday flair, I reported to my post at noon Saturday to ring bells for the Salvation Army.

Randy snapped this photo of me upon our return home from ringing bells. One donor suggested we receive "hazard pay" for ringing on such a bitterly cold day. There's no pay; this is a volunteer opportunity.

Randy snapped this photo of me upon our return home. One donor joked that we should receive “hazard pay” for ringing bells on such a bitterly cold day. This was a volunteer “job.”

The temperature hovered around zero degrees Fahrenheit (-18 Celsius) in Faribault as I tied on my red apron, secured a scarf around my neck (I would add a second later) and took over bell ringing duties from my friend Barb. My husband, Randy, replaced her husband, Gary.

The temperature at 11 a.m. Saturday in Faribault, just an hour before Randy and I began ringing bells.

The temperature at 11 a.m. Saturday in Faribault, just an hour before Randy and I began ringing bells.

For the next two hours, in bitter cold temperatures which challenged even the hardiest of life-long Minnesotans like us, we greeted visitors at the Walmart south entrance.

Now you might think I would never again want to ring bells given my fingers and toes and cheeks got uncomfortably cold. At one point, per friend and north Walmart bell ringer Virgil’s suggestion, I retreated to the women’s bathroom to warm my icy red fingers under the hand air dryer. Heat never felt so good.

Gary and Barb work the 10 a.m. to noon bell-ringing shift at Walmart south.

Gary and Barb work the 10 a.m. to noon bell-ringing shift at Walmart south.

I will ring bells again, though.

When my cheeks started hurting and flaming red, I added a second scarf.

When my cheeks started hurting and flaming red, I added a second scarf.

I will ring bells again because the temporary discomfort I experienced is nothing compared to the challenges faced by those who benefit from Salvation Army services. Funds help those in emergency situations cover gas, housing, medical and other expenses. Donations also finance the “Shop with a Cop” program assisting children in need.

Nearly 90 percent of the monies dropped into kettles in Rice County stay in the county. This year the county chapter hopes to raise $50,000. In 2012, nearly $40,000 were raised, which was not enough to meet local needs.

Gary and Barb welcomed a stranger's cups of coffee.

Gary and Barb, an hour into their two-hour shift, were getting cold, but still smiling.

To be a small part of the Salvation Army’s mission, by giving two hours of my time, proved humbling and rewarding. Friend Virgil rang for 1.50 shifts while Linda, another ringer from my church, Trinity Lutheran in Faribault, pulled a double shift. That’s four hours. Outside. In the bitter cold.

Two girls give to the Salvation Army on Gary and Barb's shift.

Two girls give to the Salvation Army on Gary and Barb’s shift.

I was especially moved by the young parents who are teaching their children the joy of giving. Several times I watched as youngsters barely tall enough to reach the kettle dropped coins into the slot, sometimes spilling the change onto the sidewalk. We rewarded 14 youngsters with candy canes for their generosity.

One particular boy, about nine, exuded extra energetic enthusiasm. “Have a good day!” he shouted to us after placing money in the kettle.

Moments like that are priceless as is the story one mother shared while her little boy put coins in the bucket. They had seen a Toys for Tots television ad, she said. He then wanted to donate a toy, if he could get one for himself, too. I thanked this mom for teaching her son about giving at such a young age.

Randy and I were also the recipients of gratitude. Numerous donors thanked us for ringing bells, especially on such a cold day. “Bless your heart,” one woman said. Those three words most assuredly warmed my heart.

And then, near the end of our two-hour shift, another woman exiting Walmart handed me two packs of chemical hand warmers to slip inside our mittens and gloves. I was incredibly moved by her thoughtfulness.

What a great mission as noted on the sign,

What a great mission as noted on the sign: “Sharing is caring…need knows no season…God bless you.”

In the previous shift, another stranger purchased coffee for Gary and Barb and doughnuts for Virgil and Linda. Again, such kindness.

When our shift ended, we handed our bells and aprons and hand warmers, and the remaining 22 candy canes reserved for kids, over to our friend Leann. She was ringing the Salvation Army bell with joyful enthusiasm as we walked away.

I learned later that Virgil retrieved his wife’s boots from his car for Leann, whose boots weren’t warm enough. Leann distributed 14 candy canes to giving children, just like us, then passed the remaining four treats to fourth-shift bell ringer, Dennis.

I asked Leann if she’d had any particularly memorable moments and she shared how a teen, who’d just purchased gifts and wrapping paper, paused to pull bills from his pocket and donate. Not only that, he told her how happy he was to give.

That, my friends, represents the true spirit of charitable giving.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Memories of the June 13, 1968, Tracy tornado: “Pain, anguish and blood…” June 12, 2013

HE DOESN’T RECALL the details like it was yesterday.

Yesterday, after all, was 45 years ago.

Eric Lantz, 16, of Walnut Grove, shot this award-winning photo of the Tracy tornado as it was leaving town. He often took photos for the Walnut Grove Tribune, owned by his uncle, Everett Lantz. This image by Eric was awarded third place in the 1968 National Newspaper Association contest for best news photo.

Eric Lantz, then 16, of Walnut Grove, shot this award-winning photo of the Tracy tornado as it was leaving town on the evening of June 13, 1968. He often took photos for the Walnut Grove Tribune, owned by his uncle, Everett Lantz. This image by Eric was awarded third place in the 1968 National Newspaper Association contest for best news photo. Copyrighted photo courtesy of Scott Thoma with original copyright retained by Eric Lantz.

But for Mankato resident Steve Ulmen, certain memories of the aftermath of the deadly Tracy tornado of June 13, 1968, stick with him.

He was only 22 then, a college student and a senior member of the Mankato Civil Air Patrol squadron dispatched on a search and rescue mission to Tracy 90 miles away in southwestern Minnesota. They were the first responders, handling crisis management until other local and state officials arrived.

A residential street, once covered in branches and debris, had to be plowed to allow vehicles to pass. Photo by The Tracy Headlight Herald and courtesy of Scott Thoma, Tracy native and author of Out of the Blue, a book about the Tracy tornado.

A residential street, once covered in branches and debris, had to be plowed to allow vehicles to pass. Photo by The Tracy Headlight Herald and courtesy of Scott Thoma, Tracy native and author of Out of the Blue, a book about the Tracy tornado.

Ulmen remembers entering Tracy, feeling overcome by the sheer devastation. The F5 tornado, with wind speeds surpassing 300 mph, killed nine and injured 125. Destruction was massive.

“It looked like we were driving into a dump site, or a burned out slum, or what I would imagine a bombed out city would have looked like after World War II,” Ulmen recalls.

With experience as a hospital orderly, he was assigned to the emergency room at the Tracy hospital—removing victims from ambulances and placing them on gurneys and moving others around.

Some of the injured at the Tracy Hospital. Photo by The Tracy Headlight Herald and courtesy of Scott Thoma.

Some of the injured at the Tracy Hospital. Photo by The Tracy Headlight Herald and courtesy of Scott Thoma.

“There were victims coming in and lying on stretchers even in the hallways, as it was a small hospital,” Ulmen remembers. “Some were suffering from fractures, some from cuts and scratches. All were in one degree of shock or another and needed assistance and someone to talk to them and try and calm them down.

“There was pain, anguish, and blood, that I remember. As long as casualties kept coming in, we stayed on duty.”

The CAP squadron, comprised of cadets (high school age, 18 and under) to supervising senior members, volunteered for several days in the ravaged community. Among other duties, the patrol established a communications system based out of “an old military surplus deuce and a half 4-wheel drive vehicle” equipped with “radios of every description.”

Surveying the destruction at Tracy Elementary School, which was destroyed. Photo by The Tracy Headlight Herald and courtesy of Scott Thoma.

Surveying the destruction at Tracy Elementary School, which was destroyed. Photo by The Tracy Headlight Herald and courtesy of Scott Thoma.

Ulmen remembers the satisfaction he felt in helping those in distress.

Among his memories, Ulmen recalls a particular incident, one he still wonders about now 45 years later. “I was driving either my vehicle or an emergency vehicle, I forget which, and I went through an intersection. The stop sign was bent and twisted from the tornado and wasn’t pointing at the street I was on; it looked like it was pointed at another street. Nevertheless, the local cop saw me run the stop sign, pulled me over, and gave me a ticket,” Ulmen says. “Some thanks for coming all the way from Mankato and volunteering my service to a community in distress. My superiors were not impressed with this either, but I ended up having to pay the ticket as I recall.

“It is funny what you remember from 45 years ago.”

FYI: The community of Tracy is marking the 45-year anniversary of the deadly tornado with special events on Thursday, June 13. Click here to learn more in a post published here several days ago.

To learn more about Steve Ulmen, who served with the CAP for 17 years until he was about 27, click here. Ulmen, who is retired after 34 years of working in the corrections field, is also a published writer. He’s written a western screenplay, later rewritten and published as his first western novel, Toby Ryker. He then published a sequel, Deadwood Days. His most recent works include a book of historical fiction, Blood on the Prairie—A Novel of the Sioux Uprising (actually the first book in the Toby Ryker trilogy), and Bad Moon Arising, a fictional story based on his experiences as the first probation officer in LeSueur County beginning in 1969.

Ulmen and his wife of 42 years, Ida Mae, live in Mankato, his hometown.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Remembering the June 13, 1968, killer tornado in Tracy, Minnesota June 10, 2013

Eric Lantz, 16, of Walnut Grove, shot this award-winning photo of the Tracy tornado as it was leaving town. He often took photos for the Walnut Grove Tribune, owned by his uncle, Everett Lantz. This image by Eric was awarded third place in the 1968 National Newspaper Association contest for best news photo.

Eric Lantz, then 16, of Walnut Grove, shot this award-winning photo of the Tracy tornado as it was leaving town on June 13, 1968. He often took photos for the Walnut Grove Tribune, owned by his uncle, Everett Lantz. This image by Lantz was awarded third place in the 1968 National Newspaper Association contest for best news photo. Copyrighted photo is courtesy of Scott Thoma with original copyright retained by Lantz.

TORNADO WARNING. Those two weather words, more than any other, cause me to panic. For good reason.

I was not quite twelve when an F5 tornado, with wind speeds surpassing 300 mph, struck the nearby community of Tracy on June 13, 1968. The twister left nine dead, 125 injured and buildings demolished.

I remember, a day or two afterward, our family piling into our Chevy for the 25-mile drive through southwestern Minnesota farm country to view the devastation. Twisted trees. Flattened homes and businesses. Boxcars haphazardly tossed.

This photo by the Tracy Headlight Herald shows a damaged boat and overturned car sitting atop the rubble after the Tracy tornado.

This photo by the Tracy Headlight Herald shows a damaged boat and overturned car sitting atop the rubble after the Tracy tornado. Photo courtesy of Scott Thoma.

A catastrophic scene like that impresses upon a young mind a deep fear and respect for the power of a tornado.

Added to the visual impact was my father’s spotting of the tornado from our farm those many miles to the north and east as he did the evening milking. He thought the twister was much nearer. Decades later, a less severe tornado would hit the farm place, and the community, where I grew up. Two summers ago, severe winds also ravaged my hometown of Vesta.

This Thursday, the residents of Tracy and others will gather to commemorate the 45th anniversary of the Tracy tornado touchdown.

The photo by Eric Lantz illustrates the cover of Scott Thoma's just-published book.

The photo by Eric Lantz illustrates the cover of Scott Thoma’s book.

Tracy native Scott Thoma of Willmar, who wrote Out of the Blue, a book about the Tracy tornado, is among those on the Tracy Tornado Memorial Committee and the coordinator for Thursday’s program. The June 13 event will feature an evening of remembrance and fundraising and a coming together of community.

At 7:03 p.m., the moment the killer twister touched down in Tracy, attendees will honor the nine who died with a moment of silence in Central Park. Thoma will read their names and a bell will toll for each: Ella Haney, 84; Mildred Harnden, 75; Barbara Holbrook, 50; Ellen Morgan, 75; Fred Pilatus, 71; Paul Swanson, 60; Walter Swanson, 47; Nancy Viahos, 2; and Otelia Werner, 75.

Longtime resident, the Rev. Homer Dobson, will “say a few words,” Thoma says.

A photographer for the Tracy Headlight Herald captured this scene at the demolished Tracy Elementary School.

A photographer for the Tracy Headlight Herald captured this scene at the demolished Tracy Elementary School. Photo courtesy of Scott Thoma.

I expect the commemoration will be an emotional event, and rightly so. Even with the passage of nearly five decades, grief lingers. And each time a tornado devastates a community and lives are lost, such as in Moore, Oklahoma (struck, like Tracy, by an F5), memories resurface, fear rises.

Besides remembering the nine, the community will continue raising funds for a new tornado memorial to replace the one falling into disrepair. Over $10,000 have been raised with about $5,000 more needed for the six-foot high black granite monument that will sit along U.S. Highway 14 near the “Tornado Tree” sculpture. That steel tree, built in 1989, replicates the original tornado tree, a gnarled elm that withstood the forces of the twister.

An artist's rendering of the tornado monument. The words on the bench will read "Tracy Tornado Monument" and an engraving of Eric Lantz's tornado photo will be etched below the clock and above the story. Image courtesy of Scott Thoma.

An artist’s rendering of the tornado monument. The words on the bench will read “Tracy Tornado Monument” and an engraving of Eric Lantz’s tornado photo will be etched below the clock and above the story. Image courtesy of Scott Thoma.

The new three-sided marker will feature the story of the tornado and a well-known photo by Eric Lantz etched on the front, according to Thoma. Names and ages of the tornado victims will be listed on another side. And on the back side, visitors will find a stone bench.

On all three sides, a clock will be etched into the stone, stopped at 7:03 p.m., the time the tornado reached the Tracy city limits.

The memorial is expected to be done this summer and unveiled during Boxcar Days, an annual community celebration, on September 2.

In the meantime, there’s still memorial money to be raised and Thoma is doing his part, donating $3 to the monument fund for every book sold. He is selling Out of the Blue from 11 a.m. – 3 p.m. Thursday at the Tornado Tree Memorial along Highway 14. Root beer floats will also be available with all proceeds directed to the memorial.

Thoma will talk about the tornado and his book at 4 p.m. at the Tracy Library. I read and reviewed Out of the Blue a year ago and you can read that review by clicking here.

As is customary with most small town events, there’s a meal involved in the Tracy tornado anniversary. Folks will gather at the fire hall from 5 p.m. – 8 p.m. for a “freewill donation potluck supper,” Thoma says. The Tracy Community Band plays at 7 p.m. across the street in Central Park. And at 8 p.m., somewhere in town, the Tracy Library will show the movie Twister.

If you’re interested in buying a copy of Out of the Blue and/or donating to the Tracy Tornado Memorial fund, email Thoma at scott@thomabooks.com or call (320) 894-6007.

You can also order his book online by clicking here.

If you lived through the Tracy tornado or have any stories to share about the storm, please submit a comment. I’d like to hear from you. Other comments are also welcome.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

After the rain June 5, 2013

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AFTER THE LONGEST WINTER I can ever remember in Minnesota, we’re now enduring an especially cool and rainy spring. Clouds hang heavy. Rain drips, sometimes pours. It is enough to dampen the spirits of even the most optimistic among us.

Raindrops on hosta.

Raindrops on hosta.

So, on a recent evening, after yet another rain shower, I grabbed my camera to photograph post-rain details. This self-made assignment gave me reason to pause, to appreciate the beauty of a single raindrop.

An American flag complements million bells and a geranium in a pot near my front door.

An American flag complements million bells and a geranium in a pot near my front door.

Sometimes you truly must stop, reassess, give thanks that you are dealing only with clouds and rain and cold.  Not a tornado or floods or wildfires.

Romaine lettuce.

Romaine lettuce in the beautiful evening light.

Lovely spheres of Allium.

Lovely spheres of Allium.

Backyard bird bath.

Backyard bird bath.

Rain-shined hosta leaves.

Rain-shined hosta leaves.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Hope unfurls May 4, 2013

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LAST WEEKEND, MY DAFFODILS bloomed, bright and brilliant in the first blush of spring.

Photographed Saturday afternoon, the seven inches of snow have mostly melted off my daffodils.

My daffodils, photographed Saturday afternoon, emerging from seven inches of disappearing snow.

Today they lie in a pathetic heap, heads bowed, even buried, in a veil of snow.

A tulip bud, bent to the snow.

A tulip bud, bent to the snow.

Nearby, tulip buds droop, leaves splayed, vulnerable to the frigid air and the rough crystals of melting snow in this endless winter.

Determined day lilies.

Determined day lilies.

In my backyard, determined day lilies soldier up through the snow.

Bendy raspberry branches in bud.

Bendy raspberry branches in bud.

A stone’s throw away, wild raspberries defy the weather, arcing branches, buds unfurling into the promise of spring.

A raspberry bud unfurling.

A raspberry bud unfurling.

Hope. I saw hope today that this longest of all winters may finally exit Minnesota.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Unbelievable! Record snowfall on May 2 in Faribault, Minnesota May 2, 2013

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Willow Street, shortly after 7 a.m. May 2. That's my house on the right.

Willow Street, shortly after 7 a.m. May 2. That’s my house on the right.

YOU WOULD GUESS, walking my neighborhood this morning, that this is March instead of May. I am living in a winter wonderland, if you want to put a positive spin on the fresh snow blanketing the landscape.

Our measurements showed seven inches. I expect we got closer to a a foot of snow since it began falling Wednesday afternoon.

Our measurements showed seven inches. I expect we got closer to a a foot of snow since it began falling Wednesday afternoon.

An unofficial seven inches of snow have fallen here by measurement of the yardstick my husband thrust into the snow this morning. I expect we got more like 12 inches as much melted upon hitting the ground. I believe the old record for this date in Minnesota was three inches in 1946.

Owatonna, 15 miles to the south got 13 inches in this storm. Falling snow limited the time I spent outdoors with my camera this morning.

Schools are closed.

My husband blowing out our driveway.

My husband blowing out our driveway.

It’s a mess out there.

A limb broke off my neighbor's tree around 6 a.m., striking her house and then smashing onto her car, breaking the windshield. In this photo my husband had already sawed a portion of the limb off. We then pulled this remaining limb from her car so she could move it, before another limb fell.

A limb broke off my neighbor’s tree around 6 a.m., striking her house and then smashing onto her car, breaking the windshield. In this photo my husband had already sawed a portion of the limb off. We then pulled this remaining limb from her car so she could move it, before another limb fell.

Branches are down all over, including at my new neighbor's house across the street.

Branches are down all over, including at my neighbor’s house across the street.

Look to the upper left in this photo and you'll see one particular limb broken off and looming over my neighbor's yard.

Look to the upper left in this photo and you’ll see one particular limb broken off and looming over my neighbor’s yard.

The intersection right by my house and my husband blowing snow. Note the sagging utility lines.

This shows the intersection right by my house and my husband blowing snow. Note the sagging utility lines.

Branches are broken and littering yards. Power lines are sagging from the weight of the heavy wet snow.

I opened the garage door this morning to this scene.

I opened the garage door this morning to this scene.

Cars are buried in driveways and residents are slogging through the snow with snowblowers.

Clearing our snow-covered driveway.

Clearing our snow-covered driveway.

Our snowy backyard.

Our snowy backyard.

Note, again, the sagging power lines in this shot taken from my backyard looking toward my neighbor's house across Willow Street.

Note, again, the sagging power lines in this shot taken from my backyard looking toward my neighbor’s house across Willow Street.

Need I say more.

I want out.

JUST AS I WAS WRAPPING up this post, the snowplow barreled past my house, throwing the snow with such force that it blasted the side of our house and the bedroom window. I checked the window and it doesn’t appear to be broken.

UPDATE 3:55 P.M.: Tree service removal trucks and the buzz of chain saws have frequented my neighborhood this afternoon as clean up begins after the storm.

A tree service company arrived at my neighbor's house across the street this afternoon to remove dangling limbs. That's her car with the smashed windshield to the left in this photo. See my earlier photo of the car above when parked in her driveway. The limb fell onto her car at 6 a.m.

A tree service company arrived at my neighbor’s house across the street this afternoon to remove dangling limbs. That’s her car with the smashed windshield to the left in this photo. See my earlier photo of the car (above) when parked in her driveway this morning. The limb crashed onto her car at about 6 a.m.

Directly across Willow Street from my home, another neighbor had to deal with fallen branches and limbs in his yard.

Directly across Willow Street from my home, another neighbor had to deal with fallen branches and limbs in his yard.

A City of Faribault snowplow driver and a Thompson Tree Service worker confer along Willow Street this morning.

A City of Faribault snowplow driver and a Thompson Tree Service worker confer along Willow Street this morning.

Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Hello, God, this is May 1, not March 1 May 1, 2013

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SOMETIMES I NEED a reminder.

And in this year of the Minnesota winter which never ends, I’ve needed multiple reminders.

May Day message

Wednesday morning, I received this note attached to a May Day treat bag deposited on my front steps:

This is the “May” that the Lord has made.

Indeed.

As I write, heavy snow is falling. Parts of Minnesota, including my area, are under a winter storm warming until 7 p.m. Thursday. The National Weather Service is predicting a “powerful winter storm” with snow accumulations of six to nine inches.

Happy first day of May!

But thanks to our friends, the Lerass family, this whole day has become brighter, more bearable, with that pointed message and a sweet homemade treat tucked inside an artfully decorated paper bag. To have such friends, reminding me that I should rejoice in whatever day I’ve been given, rates as a wonderful blessing.

Owl card

Added to that May Day delight, my husband and I received an early wedding anniversary card from our future son-in-law’s parents. Another reason to smile on this dreary day, this May 1 which the Lord has made.

Apparently God has a sense of humor.

Daffodils

A few days ago He blessed me with daffodils and sunshine, a redemption, I suppose, for the snowfall to come.

May Day candy

UPDATE 6:59 P.M.: Since publishing this post late this afternoon, my doorbell rang for the second time today. I opened it to find another May basket, this one from the Weeg family. My friends clearly know that I love chocolate and the color green. (Right, Billie Jo?) How blessed I am to have such thoughtful friends.

Weather-wise, snow continues to fall, as shown in these two photos just taken from my bedroom window. No taking the camera outside during snowfall.

Happy March May Day, everyone.

My backyard in the foreground with Willow Street and my neighborhood beyond.

My backyard in the foreground with Willow Street and my neighborhood beyond.

When I showed you my backyard a few days ago, it was snow-free. Not so this evening.

When I showed you my backyard a few days ago, it was snow-free. Not so this evening.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Hardy, defiant or ? April 24, 2013

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Scene on Willow Street, Faribault, Minnesota, 6:09 p.m., Tuesday, April 23.

Scene on Willow Street, Faribault, Minnesota, 6:09 p.m., Tuesday, April 23.

TUESDAY EVENING, APRIL 23, and I’ve just finished supper when I spy a motorcycle on the street.

Any other spring, and I would not give this mode of transportation a second thought nor grab my camera.

But this is no ordinary April in Minnesota. The six inches of snow which fell Monday into early Tuesday morning in Faribault have mostly melted, but plenty still blankets the landscape.

Forty degrees. Snow on the ground. And a biker hits the road.

As crazy as this appears, I recall seeing a motorcyclist riding in 30 degree temps a few months ago.

Thoughts?

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Yes, Minnesota, there really is a spring April 23, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:44 AM
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ALLOW ME TO WEAVE a magical photo essay today, to sprinkle fairy dust into your eyes, to transport you from the snowy Minnesota landscape into a place of wondrous beauty and warmth.

If you truly believe, just as Virginia believed in Santa Claus, you will see spring.

Ready? Let’s go.

Greenhouse, fairy

A little fairy dust in the eyes

Greenhouse, exterior

and we enter the magical world of spring inside Donahue’s Greenhouse in Faribault.

Greenhouse, flowers and ferns

Here a spell is cast upon winter weary Minnesotans, some of whom load their carts with plants, unable to resist the overpowering pull of flowers in bloom.

 Greenhouse, yellow bloom

Blossoms unfurl, fooled into spring by the warmth of the greenhouse, the rare sunshine which graces this April day.

Greenhouse, gazing ball and geraniums

Gazing into the future, gardeners envision spring

Greenhouse, birds

with nesting birds

Greenhouse, seed packets

and soil warm enough to embrace seeds.

Greenhouse, blue flowers

They imagine delicate buds unfurling into graceful blossoms,

Greenhouse, broad view

defying winter in bursts of vibrant hues.

Greenhouse, close-up flowers and ferns

Everywhere, in this magical place, the sweet promise of spring prevails,

Greenhouse, baby sleeping

except on a shelf where fantasy vanishes in the face of truth.

Spring, my dear Minnesotans, exists only in our dreams.

THIS MORNING WE AWOKE to “a bunch of snow” (my husband’s measurement) here in Faribault, snow which began falling around 4 p.m. Monday and was still coming down when I went to bed around 11 p.m.  Snowfall guesstimate would be around six inches. The landscape looks similar to this scene (click here) from last Thursday, except with even more snow. Power lines and trees are frosted with the heavy, wet snow. And for awhile last night, probably less than 15 minutes, the power was off in my neighborhood.

The scene outside my office this morning, dear readers, looks nothing like spring and exactly like winter.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling