Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by 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

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:16 AM
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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

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 4:08 PM
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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

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:28 AM
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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

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 4:37 PM
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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

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:59 AM
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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

 

Time to exit Minnesota, Old Man Winter April 19, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 1:47 PM
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THURSDAY EVENING, instead of following the yellow brick road to the Emerald City, I closed the curtains on a snow globe world.

Wintery weather caused Faribault High School to cancel its opening performance of “The Wizard of Oz” musical, much to my dismay. I was looking forward to the temporary evening escape into a magical world far, far away from snowy Minnesota.

It was not to be.

Rather, I was stuck in my snow encased house (OK, I’m being somewhat dramatic here), curtains drawn.

My backyard this morning with about four inches of new snow on the ground.

The beautiful view of my backyard this morning with about four inches of new snow on the ground.

This morning, when I drew back the curtains, a beautiful snowy landscape unfolded before me.

“It’s pretty,” I remarked to my husband after glimpsing the woods adjoining our backyard.

A portion of the  unshoveled sidewalk by my house, which I cleared of snow this morning.

A portion of the unshoveled sidewalk which I cleared of snow during morning “rush hour” on Willow Street.

Not so pretty were the driveway and the sidewalks. More shoveling. More blowing of snow.

My husband cleared snow from our driveway and that of a neighbor before leaving for work in Northfield.

My husband cleared snow from our driveway and that of a neighbor before leaving for work in Northfield.

Honestly, I just want the snow to stop, for Old Man Winter to take his final bow, exit and allow Spring to take center stage.

Truly, on April 19, is that really too much to ask?

A defiant Old Man Winter promises more snow for the weekend when all I want is for the snow to STOP.

A defiant Old Man Winter promises more snow for the weekend when all I want is for the snow to STOP.

BONUS SNOW PHOTOS, if you really want to see them:

I should be using this wheelbarrow in my backyard, not photographing it covered with snow.

I should be using this wheelbarrow in my backyard, not photographing it covered with snow.

My next door neighbor shovels his driveway.

My next door neighbor shovels his driveway, left, on Tower Place before 8 a.m.

I shoveled my way to the front steps to retrieve The Faribault Daily News.

I shoveled my way to the front steps to retrieve The Faribault Daily News.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Be gone with thee, Winter, to Georgia (or somewhere like that) April 10, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 5:00 PM
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I VOWED THAT I would not write about the weather today.

High schoolers jog past my house this afternoon in temps hovering around freezing and with a fresh layer of snow on the ground.

High schoolers jog past my house this afternoon in temps hovering around freezing and with a fresh layer of snow on the ground.

But then runners jogged past my house around 3:30 p.m., which prompted me to grab my camera. One shot led to another and soon I was slipping on my shoes, treading across the icy patio with my camera tucked inside my sweatshirt (so as not to get rain on my camera) to stand under the roof overhang (so as not to get rain on my camera) to photograph my backyard.

Why?

Because my backyard landscape is white and I cannot stand this anymore, this undefeatable Winter who keeps sneaking through the door of Spring.

I awoke this morning to snow covering the landscape, as shown in this scene of my backyard and the woods adjoining it.

I awoke this morning to snow covering the landscape, as shown in this scene of my backyard and the woods adjoining it.

“Get Thee out of my yard, out of my city, out of my state!” I want to stomp and scream at Winter. I never use exclamation points, which emphasizes just how adamant I am.

I do not want to hear of sleet or freezing rain or snow accumulations. I want to slam the door on Winter.

I do not want to read another text message from my second-born who awakened to no power this morning due to a severe ice storm in northeastern Wisconsin which left 23,000 Appleton area customers without power.

I do not want to hear about air traffic issues like those experienced by my eldest and her fiancė whose flight from Denver to Minneapolis was delayed last night by snowy/icy weather and then rocked by severe turbulence over Nebraska and South Dakota.

And I do not want to read a “glad it’s you and not me” message tagged “Time for planting” and emailed this morning by reader Brad, who grew up in Minnesota and worked for the National Weather Service for 33 years.

Brad writes:

Don’t want to rub it in, BUT….

82 degrees today in Georgia and we are going out to buy a few tomatoes and pepper plants.

Be safe with your spring blizzard!

Uh, yeah, Brad, maybe I’ll plant snow peas and iceberg lettuce.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling