Spring in the heartland

Sunset over farmfield_StaatsLast weekend as I was driving home from Iowa to Minnesota I was reminded of the beauty of the Midwest heartland.  No big looming mountains, no expansive oceans, no rugged red rocks.  But there’s a vastness of the land that spreads from horizon to horizon.  Here’s the area responsible for much of the food that’s delivered to our tables, and this land goes through the temperature extremes of freezing, thawing, flooding, and drought.  While I was driving on the interstate I kept one eye to the western sky and the colors that were building up to sunset.  As the pinks were glowing I pulled off onto a county road; the smell of soil and cool winds came wafting through the car’s open window.  This one field was between seasons with some snow still clinging to the cold earth, the soil that was thawing, and the ribbons of water and puddles that were reflecting the last light of a beautiful day and sunset.  So much to be thankful for in this spring season of hope and renewal!

A trip south for family and warmth

KState rugby match_StaatsYesterday I made a quick trip south to warmer climes – about 200 miles to Ames, Iowa.  The landscape was devoid of snow and the temps were in the low 50’s (almost tropical for this person from Minnesota where it had just dumped seven inches of snow on Friday!).  My nephew plays on the Kansas State Rugby team and they were playing the Iowa State team in Ames.  I don’t have much experience with rugby, but it is a fast-moving game, rough and tumble, and a testament to endurance and teamwork.  This match was very physical and included some tough injuries too.  In the end, the Iowa State team prevailed over Kansas State.  But the day provided time for catching up with my nephew and my brother & sister-in-law — well worth the drive!

Store-bought spring

Yellow tulips_StaatsSpring has been hard-to-come-by in Minnesota.  Although we’ve had some warmer temperatures they seem to be interrupted with cold fronts and more snow.  Desperate for spring, I decided that even store-bought color would count.  Yellow and green are the colors that represent the hope and promise of spring, and these lovely yellow tulips were calling to me at the store.  With some sunshine and temps in the 40’s, I took my spring bouquet outside to photograph.  A little bit of filtered sunshine seemed to bring them to life.  What you don’t see in this image  is the white snow that still covers the ground in places.  But I can look at this image and focus on the promise of spring to come.

Sentinels to winter

Paper birch of winter_StaatsWinter made a comeback this week with a snowfall in the early morning hours.  Fighting the slow traffic with the other commuters, I decided to get off the highway and visit a small local arboretum in Roseville – Central Park.  I waited to park the car as the snow plow operator made his carefully practiced swipes of the lot, clearing the area in short time.  I then had the quiet and the stillness of the park to myself.    The landscape was white in all directions until I walked past a grouping of paper birch trees.  Their peeling bit of color provided a contrast to all the snow.  The birches and the small twigs seemed to be sentinels of winter with their watch over the cold and snow.  In the distance I heard a single Canada goose honking as he took to the air, and somewhere a cardinal was welcoming the day.  I then heard something I couldn’t recognize. Turning around I saw a cyclist winding his way down the path, leaving a single line of tire tracks in the fresh snow.

The tug of war between winter and spring

Pull of spring_StaatsIn the Midwest we experience a tug of war between winter and spring.  The roller coaster of temperature swings, along with the snow, ice, and thawing, keep us in a limbo between the seasons.  Just this past week we had enough snow melt that many things have become visible once again.  The warmth of the sun melted all the snow off our yellow chairs and even caused the snow to recede enough to expose some of the lawn, albeit brown.  The snow itself has lost its whiteness, instead looking pocked and littered.  We navigate large puddles and potholes during the day, and track carefully across those same items covered in ice during the night and early morning hours.  Soon (?) the tide will turn, and spring will win out.  In the meantime, we keep coats, gloves, boots and snow shovels close by.