View From a Prairie Home

by Hege Hernfindahl, Columnist

When I wake up, my sweet husband already has the fire started and coffee made. He sits in his chair on our four season porch, reading the newspaper. He looks at me and smiles, his kind eyes lighting up at the sight of me. I go over and kiss him on the top of his head, which sports thinning grey hair. We have, indeed, been lucky to grow old together and I love everything about him. He has always been very interested in politics and subscribes to multiple newspapers and newsmagazines. He knows I am not as politically acute as he is. I also don’t have the patience to read as much as he does about politics. Especially now. Now, it is scary and disturbing. There is so little I can do and I feel anxious and afraid. My whole being tells me to just put my head in the sand and not pay attention. My anxiety causes the eczema, which I haven’t had since I was a teenager, to flare up. I must do something self-centered and unpolitical to calm myself.

So, I look outside at the beautiful snow we have now. At the birds, which flock at the birdfeeders. One of my friends has a camera with sound that shows her the birds at her birdfeeder. She sent me a picture of a male cardinal, its bright red beautiful body brilliant against the white snow. We don’t get cardinals, but we have multiple other birds that gift us with their presence. The gold-finches have muted colors now, but I can still see the faint gold on the feathers of the males. The blue jays show us splashes of blue. There are multiple wood peckers at the suet feeders. I even sometimes see a pileated woods pecker, its big body curved around the feeder as it tries to eat as much as possible during these frigid days of winter.

The days are much brighter now. When it is warm enough to I venture out, I can feel the sun on my winter-white face. Its warmth brings comfort to my politics-weary soul.

It’s easy to see how the longer and brighter days also affects my multiple indoor plants. The geraniums are starting to bloom and I turn my many begonia plants so that their flowers will bloom evenly. I love their tiny, pink blossoms. I also brought two big mandevilla plants inside and put them on our porch where there are many windows. They bloom abundantly when outside, but their flowers die quickly when brought in. I still enjoy them because they are green and growing. Green, the color of joy, of life. Now, in the bright sunshine, they are trying to bloom and I give them some fertilizer and cheer them on.

A good and dear friend gave me a beautiful orchid when my son Erland got sick with cancer. And now, my sweet husband helps me take care of it. We have repotted it in soil recommended for orchids. Grant makes sure to cut away the stalks that have died and attaches the live ones to stakes with little clips. So far our orchid has bloomed five times and is now sporting two buds.

I love flowers and have many favorites, but my non-blooming plants also brings so much joy. I have had a pothos plant forever. It can grow everywhere and doesn’t need much care. It will climb or hang. Now, it sits next to our little greenhouse where we have a grow light and have seeded lettuce, which has sprouted. The pothos and also its neighbor, an aloe vera cactus lean against the grow light and seem to become greener by the day.

It seems to me that the world is turning towards chaos and xenophobia. The rich and powerful trample on the defenseless multitudes. Businesses and organizations cave to threats coming from above. People are scared to voice their concerns. The bullies have the power and it seems there is nothing we, the people, can do. An old woman with a troubled heart leans into the days and tries to find joy in the life made by the creator. I think of the light that came into the world. It is so strong that it conquers darkness. And I try to take comfort and not be afraid.