Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Rockin’ flannel & roasting doughnut holes February 27, 2025

(Promo sourced online)

TWO DECIDEDLY WINTER EVENTS are happening in my area of southern Minnesota this weekend. First up, the Faribault Flannel Formal from 5-10 p.m. Saturday, March 1, at the Craft Beverage Curve in Faribault. There is a cost to attend.

This mural based on an historic photo of skating on the Straight River hangs on the side of 10,000 Drops Distillery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo December 2019)

Minnesotans’ love of flannel will focus this fun gathering inside the complex housing 10,000 Drops Craft Distillers and Corks & Pints at 28 NE 4th Street. Although I’ve never attended, because a noisy, packed setting is difficult for me to manage, I know it’s a popular event.

So what’s on the schedule? Well, there’s a Best Dressed Lumber Jack and Jane contest. That means attendees should arrive dressed in their best Paul Bunyan style attire with plenty of buffalo plaid flannel. Minnesota embraces the legendary lumberjack and his sidekick, Babe the Blue Ox.

Tater Tot Hotdish advertised on a sandwich board outside an eatery in Belview in southwestern Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2019)

But the competition doesn’t stop there. A Hotdish (not casserole) Contest and sampling of hotdish entries is another Flannel Formal staple. Tater Tot Hotdish and Chicken Wild Rice Hotdish are Minnesota favorites, although certainly entries are not limited to those two.

I expect there will be other competitions, although those are not specifically listed in promotional information. Raffles are. And so is music by North Branch-based Buffalo Alice, a band that plays a unique blend of classic rock and country.

Pull out the original or updated (pictured here) version of “How to Talk Minnesotan” by Howard Mohr to brush up on the Minnesota Language Systems. (Book cover sourced online)

I’d encourage you, if you plan to attend, to brush up on your Minnesota Speak. Drag out your looooong o’s. Practice phrases like “that’s different” and “you betcha!” And, of course, say a long Minnesota goodbye when you leave the Formal.

(Promo courtesy of the Valley Grove Preservation Society)

On Sunday, March 2, head over to the Nerstrand area for a 1-3 p.m. free Doughnut Hole Roasting Party at the historic Valley Grove Churches. This hilltop setting, 9999 155th St. East, is perhaps my favorite rural location in Rice County because of its beautiful natural setting and peacefulness. Plus, I love the two historic churches there.

A favorite photo I took of the Valley Grove churches. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo October 2024)

The Valley Grove Preservation Society Board will have a bonfire roaring for the doughnut holes they will provide along with roasting sticks. Just bring a chair, your own warm drinks and dress weather appropriately. I’d encourage wandering around the cemetery and walking on the prairie along with connecting with people passionate about preserving these Norwegian immigrant churches and the land surrounding them.

I’ve never attended this novel party, but would like to sometime.

There you go. Two places. Two events. Two reasons to get out of the house on the first two days of March in southern Minnesota.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

I just wanted a Peanut Buster Parfait February 25, 2025

Randy holds a Peanut Buster Parfait purchased during a previous visit to The Little DQ. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

SPRING HAS UNOFFICIALLY ARRIVED in Faribault. The Little DQ opened this past weekend. And that, in my community, signals closing the door on winter and cracking it open to spring. Never mind that winter can continue well into April, sometimes even May, here in the North. But let’s not consider that possibility. There are enough other things to feel pessimistic about right now.

Sunday evening Randy and I drove across town to the local walk-up/drive-up Dairy Queen for the $2.49 Peanut Buster Parfait opening weekend special. That’s always the bargain treat when The Little DQ opens at the end of February and then closes in October.

Since these are typically the only two times we go to DQ in a year, I was excited to get this fudgy, salty, sweet treat. We pulled up around 8 pm, surprised not to see a line of vehicles. But then again it was the end of the weekend, the hours winding down to the 10 pm closing.

A friendly voice greeted us over the intercom as Randy ordered two Peanut Buster Parfaits. “We’re out of peanuts,” the teen on the other end told us. “You can substitute something else.”

Not a Peanut Buster Parfait, but an M & M Parfait. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2025)

After some grumbling between us, we settled on M & Ms as a peanut replacement. I was too surprised to fully consider other options. My mind was fixated on peanuts because a Peanut Buster Parfait is simply not a Peanut Buster Parfait without the peanuts.

We both shared the thought that employees of The Little DQ could have sourced peanuts from the next door convenience store, a grocery store across the highway or even the other DQ down the road. Never mind. It was just an idea.

And so we ate our minimally fudgy M & M Parfaits and reminisced about the other time we arrived at The Little DQ to order Peanut Buster Parfaits on closing weekend. “We’re out of ice cream,” said the voice on the other end of the intercom. At least this time we got ice cream.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

When a cold snap grips Minnesota February 18, 2025

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One of my favorite winter photos, of a farm site along Interstate 35 north of Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2019)

WE MINNESOTANS PRIDE ourselves on our winter hardiness. But this week is testing even the hardiest among us as temps drop into the double digit subzero range. Add the wind and it feels like -30 to -40 degrees outdoors. No wonder extreme cold warnings have been issued for our state. Exposed skin can freeze in minutes. No wonder schools are closing and shifting to e-learning.

A flowering tree, photographed in Faribault in spring. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2024)

The bright sunshine fools no one. It’s an illusion of warmth. But the sunshine also reminds me that much warmer days are only months away, that winter isn’t forever, that we will get through this cold spell. We always do.

Photographed at the Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour garden in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo August 2024)

But as I wait and (mostly) shelter indoors, I find myself drawn to floral photos I took during the spring and summer. Images which visually remind me that the snow will melt, the earth will thaw and warm, seeds will grow, flowers will flourish and these frigid days of winter will be only a memory.

Coneflowers, Rice County Master Gardeners’ Teaching Gardens, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo August 2024)

It’s a bit of a psychological endeavor, this convincing myself that spring will be here “before we know it.” Some days, especially during a cold snap, that seems almost laughable. I admit, my appreciation of winter has diminished as I’ve aged. I’m not alone in feeling that way among my Baby Boomer friends, which is likely the reason many flee to warmer climates for a week, or even months, during winter. I say good for them if that’s a feasible option. It’s not for me.

Dreaming of summer days at Horseshoe Lake in the central Minnesota lakes region. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo July 2023)

So I find ways to cope. Read more. Write more. Walk indoors at the mall instead of outside. And when I do go out, bundle up, clamp a stocking cap on my head without care that it flattens my hair. Eat dark chocolate. Drink tea. Cook soups and chili. Pull out my warmest sweater to layer over a tee and flannel shirt. Connect with friends more. Remember hot summer days Up North at the cabin.

Tulips, one of the first flowers of spring in Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2020)

And never forget that the flowers will unfurl in the sunshine and warmth. Bold, beautiful, vibrant blooms. Lovely. Filling my soul and spirit in a poetically beautiful way that winter can’t.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

And the 2024-2025 Minnesota snowplow name winners are… February 13, 2025

(Graphic from the Minnesota Department of Transportation)

IN MINNESOTA, we’re not off to see The Wizard, but the blizzard. Or maybe we wish we were heading for the Emerald City. But the people have voted, and We’re Off to See the Blizzard topped the eight names selected for the Minnesota Department of Transportation’s annual Name a Snowplow Contest.

Polls closed last Friday with 23,400 people voting for up to eight names on a list of 50. That was narrowed from some 7,300 submissions.

A snowplow in my native southwestern Minnesota will now bear the name spun off from a line in “The Wizard of Oz” starring native Minnesotan Frances Gumm, aka Judy Garland. Her hometown of Grand Rapids (Minnesota, not Michigan) is located in MnDOT’s District 1 on the northeastern side of our state. A plow in that region will be tagged SKOL Plow, a tribute to the Scandinavian cheer chant for the Minnesota Vikings. That name came in at number seven in the polls.

Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtles, popular superhero characters. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Here in southeastern Minnesota, Plowbunga! will now mark one of MnDOT’s big orange snowplow trucks. Does that reference Cowabunga! of “The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” fame? I think so. My girls loved those cartoon superheroes, turtles in a half shell. Plowabunga! was the third top vote-getter.

Coming in second was Snowtorious B.I.G., which totally baffled me. So I googled and found connections to snow, drugs and sweaters.

Anthony Sledwards also had me stumped. Turns out Anthony Edwards is a star basketball player for the Minnesota Timberwolves. That explains it. I don’t watch sports. Travel in the Twin Cities metro and you will soon see Anthony Sledwards plowing snow.

The original version of “How to Talk Minnesotan,” published in the 1980s, is a primer to Minnesota language. (Book cover sourced online)

The fifth and sixth place winners, You’re Welcome and Don’tcha Snow, honor Minnesota Speak, phrases (or versions of) spoken by Minnesotans. Don’tcha know?

Rounding out the top ten is I Came, I Thaw, I Conquered, which will go on a plow in District 7, South Central Minnesota.

So there you go. How did I do with my picks? Three of my eight choices—We’re Off to See the Blizzard, SKOL Plow and Catch My Drift (#9 and which I really really like)—finished in the top ten.

I’m not sayin’ take me to Jackpot Junction, Mystic Lake, Treasure Island or any other casino in Minnesota because I’m not that good at picking winners. But I am sayn’ this annual contest is a whole lot of fun and certainly breaks up a long Minnesota winter.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Name that Minnesota snowplow January 29, 2025

Blowing snow reduces visibility along Rice County Road 25/197th Street East near Faribault on January 18, 2020. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2020)

WITH THE LONG WINTERS we have here in Minnesota, we find creative ways to get through this lengthy, lingering season. That includes naming our state-owned snowplows.

It’s that time of year again when voting opens in the Minnesota Department of Transportation’s Name That Snowplow Contest. Yup, we started naming our snowplows in 2020. Not all of them, of course, because MnDOT has a large fleet of big orange snowplows. Rather, eight names are selected for a snowplow in each of MnDOT’s eight districts.

The contest, and, yes, this is a contest, garnered more than 7,300 submissions for the 2024-2025 season. Guidelines called for witty, unique and Minnesota or winter-themed names. Rules banned profanity, political connections (thank you, MnDOT) and such. In other words, Minnesotans needed to exercise Minnesota Nice in suggesting snowplow names.

In a nod to Taylor Swift, a snowplow in MnDOT’s District 2 was named Taylor Drift in the 2024 contest. (Photo credit: Minnesota Department of Transportation)

MnDOT staff reviewed the submitted names and narrowed the choices to 50. How would you like that job? Now the public has until noon on Friday, February 7, to vote for up to eight names. Just like in any election, you can vote only once. But not at the ballot box. Vote online.

Scrolling through the list of names, I picked my favorites. Now, if my choices influence your picks, I offer no apologies. You can vote your conscience.

A City of Faribault truck plows snow in the winter of 2023. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2023)

I’m voting for these names, listed in alphabetical order and followed by my reasons for selecting them:

Bob Chillin’—A tribute to native son, singer, songwriter and poet Bob Dylan, who is not a complete unknown.

Catch My Drift—Just because it’s catchy and this is what snowplows do, especially on my native prairie.

Little Plow on the Prairie—A nod to author Laura Ingalls Wilder and the TV series, Little House on the Prairie, set in Walnut Grove, Minnesota (the show, not the book).

Make Snowbegone—A reference to writer Garrison Keillor’s fictional Lake Wobegon and also the way many Minnesotans feel in the deep of a snowy winter.

MinneSNOWta N’ice—Obviously referring to Minnesota weather and the “Minnesota Nice” moniker tagged to Minnesotans.

SKOL Plow—Even if the Minnesota Vikings did not get to the Super Bowl (again), we remain (mostly) loyal to our team and are fond of our Scandinavian cheer chant, SKOL!

Snow Place Like Home—A clever twist on the phrase, “There’s no place like home” from The Wizard of Oz. Judy Garland, Dorothy in the film, was born Frances Ethel Gumm in Grand Rapids, Minnesota.

We’re Off To See the Blizzard—And, yes, that would be a spin off “We’re off to see the wizard (of Oz).” Snowplows are, indeed, sometimes off to see the blizzard.

There you go. Exercise your right to vote in a nonpartisan election. Just for fun. To vote, click here.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

In the deep of January, floral murals jolt joy January 21, 2025

A Northfield Arts and Culture Commission mural by Brett Whitacre, just off Division Street in Northfield, blooms love. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

IS IT COLD out there?” I asked before rolling out of bed on a recent subzero morning.

In an underpass tunnel along a recreational trail in Northfield, Adam Turman created this summer scene on a mural. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

“No, it’s summertime,” he answered.

A Montgomery Wings Mural Walk wing on Lanette’s Coffee Shop features flowers watered by Scarlett, who is wearing traditional Czech clothing. That honor’s the Czech heritage of Montgomery, MN. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

That sarcastic response from my husband acted as a writing prompt during this week of cold weather advisories and warnings in Minnesota. We’ve experienced wind chills ranging from -25 to -50 degrees across the state. That’s brutally cold.

Wild geraniums painted by Adam Turman inside an underpass tunnel in Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

On the morning I asked Randy about the cold, the 7:17 a.m. air temp registered -12 degrees. With the wind chill, it felt like -29 degrees. That marked the coldest day in six years. I know we are not alone here in Minnesota as frigid air and snow sweep the country, including into the deep South.

Flowers fill the LoveForAll mural by Jordyn Brennan in downtown Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Because I can’t flee to a warmer location, I opted to transport myself from the currently cold, colorless landscape of southern Minnesota to a place of beauty. Without leaving the area. For me, that comes in photos I’ve taken of floral-themed murals blooming throughout the area. In the deep of winter, these paintings hold the hope of warmer days, of sunshine and flowers.

My most recent mural discovery was several months ago on Wild Wood in Nerstrand. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

I love when communities embrace this form of public art, because murals are accessible to anyone, anytime. They spark joy, generate interest in place, show community pride. I get excited when I unexpectedly happen upon a mural.

The rare Dwarf Trout Lily grows only in Rice, Steele and Goodhue counties in Minnesota and is depicted here by Adam Turman on an underpass tunnel wall in Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Floral-themed murals, especially, have a way of uplifting spirits, of celebrating all that is beautiful and lovely. Bold, vivid hues in the deep of January in Minnesota, offer a welcome visual respite.

A close-up of mums and peonies, forefront, in Jordyn Brennan’s LoveForAll mural. Faribault was once renowned for those two flowers. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

I can almost imagine meandering through a flower garden, dipping my nose into blossoms, appreciating each scent, each petal, each stem. Oh, the beauty of it all.

Floral-themed wings appropriately placed outside Posy Floral & Gifts in Montgomery as part of the Montgomery Wings Mural Walk. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

On these frigid days, when I view a drab landscape of muted tones, trees stripped of leaves, snow layering the earth, I delight in sharing the floral murals I’ve photographed. No one ever promised me a rose garden. But these murals hold the promise of spring and of summertime in Minnesota.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Defining a Minnesota cold snap January 15, 2025

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Bring out the cold weather gear like this photographed at a vintage snowmobile show during a past Winterfest. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

WITH AIR TEMPS DIPPING into the single digit subzero range and windchills at around minus 25 degrees on recent mornings in Minnesota, we’ve been in a bit of a cold snap. We’ll get a several-day respite of 30 degrees before temps plunge again, dipping to even colder early next week when an arctic front moves in.

All this cold got me thinking about ways to define a cold snap. It’s not only about the way it feels, but also how it sounds and looks, yes, looks.

Here’s how a cold snap feels: Like a slap on the cheeks. Biting, bitter, unbelievably cold. Exposed skin can freeze in 10-15 minutes.

The cold of a cold snap also feels like ice on bare feet during a night-time trip to the bathroom. But even before that, cold feels like I-don’t-want-to-get-out-of-bed-from-under-these-warm-covers-because-the-house-is-cold. Our thermostat is set at 62 degrees at night. Comfortable, except during a cold snap when outdoor air seems to infiltrate the indoors.

Legendary lumberjack Paul Bunyan has made wearing buffalo plaid flannel fashionable in Minnesota. Here he’s depicted on an ice machine outside Thurlow Hardware and Rental, Pequot Lakes. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

These are the days of layering, of pulling out the warmest flannel or fleece. I wear a tee, topped by a flannel shirt, topped by a sweatshirt or sweater. Randy has pulled out his heavy duty quilt-lined flannel shirt that visually widens his girth. Who cares about fashion? Not me. The goal is to stay warm.

In the evenings, with the thermostat set at 68 degrees, we find additional warmth under fleece throws or, whoever grabs it first, under an especially warm fleece-lined denim quilt. We opt not to crank up the heat in an effort to keep our energy bill down. Even with that, heating an old house with natural gas gets costly.

Chicken Wild Rice Soup, one of my favorite soups, served at a fundraiser in St. Peter years ago. I made a batch of this soup earlier this week. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

A cold snap feels like dry, itchy skin; aching joints; a parched throat. I’m drinking more water and tea. Water flowing from the tap first thing in the morning is ice cold. I’m cooking more soups and comfort foods like Chicken Wild Rice Soup and lasagna.

These deeply cold mornings, Randy warms the van before leaving for work. The sound of tires on the street past our house carries a sharpness and, if snow layers the pavement, tires crunch. Bitter cold holds a distinct, almost indescribable, sound.

Frost art on an upstairs window during a past winter. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Inside and outside, a cold snap is visible. I see it in the line of frost edging the bottoms of exterior doors. I pull a rag rug snug against the lower edge of the front door to block the draft. I see cold in the intricate frost patterns painted on bedroom windows upstairs.

These cold winter days have me dreaming of summer days at a central Minnesota lake cabin. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo July 2020)

And when I look outside from my relatively warm house, it simply looks cold, the sky clear, the bright sunshine only an illusion of warmth. For many Minnesotans, though, warmth is a reality as residents escape to warmer places like Arizona, Texas and Florida. Whether for a week, a month or the entire winter, these vacationers and snowbirds seek a break from the bitter cold and snow of a Minnesota winter.

I can’t help but think about those experiencing homelessness, including right here in Faribault. Where are these individuals living, sleeping? Surely not in the tents I’ve seen pitched along the river bottom. In the metro area, facilities are opening as warming centers. So, yeah, even though I’m not fond of this cold snap, at least I have a home.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

“Winter’s Song,” memories, reflections & writing from Minnesota March 21, 2024

This abandoned farmhouse once stood along Minnesota State Highway 19 east of my hometown of Vesta on the southwestern Minnesota prairie. It’s no longer there. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2013)

A TIME EXISTED when I loved winter. The snow more than the cold. During my growing up years on a southwestern Minnesota farm, I could not wait for the first snowfall, which then piled snow upon snow upon snow for months.

This huge, hard-as-rock towering snowdrift blocked my childhood farm driveway in March 1965. (Photo credit: Elvern Kletscher)

Fierce prairie winds swept snow around outbuildings, sculpting rock-hard drifts, an ideal landscape for Canadian Mounties. Snow pushed into piles by the loader of Dad’s John Deere tractor became mountains, rugged terrain to conquer. And pristine snow presented the perfect canvas for a game of Fox and Goose.

Our southwestern Minnesota farmyard is buried in snowdrifts in this March 1965 image. (Photo credit: Elvern Kletscher)

I remember, too, the crisp winter evenings of walking from barn to house after finishing chores. Packed snow crunched beneath my buckle overshoes. Frigid air bit at my nose, my mouth streaming billows of vapor. Overhead a billion stars pricked light into the immense black sky. Ahead of me, windows glowed in our tiny wood-frame farmhouse.

Those are the good memories I choose to remember. Not the near-frozen fingers. Not the pot on the porch because we had no bathroom. Not the house foundation wrapped in brown paper to seal out the cold. Not the central oil-burning stove that never kept the house warm enough.

Today I have it so much better. A warm house with a bathroom. No cows or calves to feed or straw bales to shake or manure to scoop. No dealing with cracked, chapped, bleeding hands. I have every reason today to embrace winter minus many of the hardships of yesteryear. But I find I don’t.

I’m working, though, on shifting my attitude back to that of appreciating a season which is often harsh here in Minnesota, although not in this unseasonably mild and nearly snow-less winter of 2023-2024. Last winter, now that was a record snowfall winter which tested many a life-long Minnesotan. Except perhaps my friend Jackie of Rochester, who loves winter.

The vintage winter photo gracing the cover of Mischke’s book is from the archives of the Minnesota Historical Society. (Minnesota Prairie Roots photo)

Writer, musician, podcaster and former radio talk show host TD Mischke also loves winter (most of the time) as evidenced in his book Winter’s Song—A Hymn to the North, published in 2023 by Skywater Publishing Cooperative. I happened upon his collection of winter writing at my brother-in-law and sister-in-law’s house north of the metro. Jon is about as avid an outdoorsman as they come. Hunting. Fishing. And in the dead of winter, spearfishing on the frozen lake. This seemed a book written just for him.

Recognizing the Mischke name, I immediately inquired whether the writer, TD Mischke, was any relation to Sy Mischke, friend of my late father-in-law. Sy, a “character” by my definition, was TD’s uncle. TD Mischke certainly writes about characters in Winter’s Song.

Clearing snow is a sometimes endless task during a Minnesota winter. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

His collection of short stories, essays and three poems honors Midwest winters. Not in a fully nostalgic way, but with a mix of reality. Winters are, admittedly, brutal. But also brimming blessings. The word “hymn” in the book title fits.

A lovely winter scene photographed in 2019 north of Faribault. It portrays the beauty of winter. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2019)

As I read through the short chapters, I found myself liking winter more and more. And that’s thanks to Mischke’s storytelling skills, his attention to detail, his introspective writing, his humor, his honest portrayal of winter in Minnesota. Not everyone is meant to live here. That Mischke acknowledges. But he also acknowledges the toughness, stamina, strength and endurance of those who call the North home. I agree that it takes a bit of fortitude to manage some six months of winter. I felt in that moment a sense of pride as a life-long Minnesotan.

Spring erupts in budding trees at Falls Creek Park, rural Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2019)

That brings me to the second to last chapter of Winter’s Song—“Lessons of March.” It seemed only fitting that I was reading this chapter near the end of March on a day of predicted snow. I’ve never liked March much. But Mischke reminded me that this often grey month, which can throw in surprise snowstorms, should be appreciated for the simple reason that it makes us appreciate April even more. The arrival of spring. He’s right. Winter is often about perspective. After finishing Winter’s Song, I feel my thoughts shifting toward a renewed appreciation for this longest of seasons here in Minnesota.

FYI: Winter’s Song—A Hymn to the North is a finalist for the 2024 Emilie Buchwald Award for Minnesota Nonfiction. Minnesota Book Award winners will be announced May 7. To listen to TD Mischke’s podcast, The Mischke Roadshow, click here.

 

Clutch of crocuses March 14, 2024

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Crocuses blooming on March 12. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo March 2024)

DAYS AFTER I BRUSHED aside leaf mulch, my crocuses are in full bloom under the bold sunlight of March here in southern Minnesota.

Veins run through the cupped purple petals popping with golden centers. They are beautiful to behold. Vibrant in a landscape of brown.

Due to the unseasonably mild Minnesota winter, these crocuses are blooming weeks earlier than usual. Had I not uncovered the perennials several days ago to find a lone blossom leaning, I would have missed this explosion of color in my front yard flowerbed.

I admire crocuses, daffodils and tulips, the first brave flowers of spring. That they even survive in this harsh climate seems a miracle in itself. Crocuses store food in corms, their underground stem system.

And so I want to take a moment to celebrate this clutch of crocuses, to recognize the importance of noticing that which is right before our eyes. All too often we hurry through our days without pausing to appreciate the little things. The flush of blossoms. The bright flash of a cardinal. The scurrying of a squirrel. Today may you stop, look and see, really see, the beauty within this day.

TELL ME: What little thing are you seeing today that bring you joy?

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Uncovering spring in this non-winter in Minnesota March 12, 2024

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Under a layer of leaves, I found this blooming crocus. Already, in early March. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo March 2024)

IN TRULY UN-MINNESOTAN fashion, I have penned very little this winter about the weather. That is atypical of a life-long resident. We are, if anything, obsessed about weather in Minnesota. We take pride in our cold weather, our snow, in managing to persevere in an often harsh climate. Weather affects our lives on a daily basis.

But this winter season, our image as the Bold Cold North has significantly changed. These past four months have been primarily snow-less and unseasonably warm. Sure, we’ve had a bit of snow and some cold snaps with sub-zero temperatures. Yet nothing like we’ve come to expect.

As I write, I look out my office window to a scene devoid of snow. The temperature is 46 degrees. At 9:51 a.m. on an early March morning. Laundry is drying on the clothesline. And the sun blazes bright upon the monotone landscape.

Daffodils, too, are emerging early. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo March 2024)

If I look closely, I see signs of spring come too soon. I need only examine my perennial flowerbeds to find spring flowers emerging from the soil. Under a layer of dried leaf mulch, I uncover a single crocus tipped on its side. I push more leaves aside revealing tender shoots of crocuses and daffodils. They need sunlight to thrive.

Tulips on the south-facing side of my house started popping weeks ago. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo March 2024)

Tulips and irises are up, too. Too soon. Not yet blooming. I noticed tulip bulbs popping greenery already in February.

All of this is an anomaly. We should be experiencing snowstorms and school closures, hearing the scrape of snowplows, the roar of snowblowers. Kids should be skating and sledding. As much as I appreciate the lack of icy roads and sidewalks, no snow to clear and no worry about winter weather, it just doesn’t feel right.

I’ve realized that I really do like the diversity of distinct seasons in Minnesota. There’s something to be said about anticipating spring after a long hard winter, like we experienced last year with record snowfall…

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling