Splendor in the Grasses

They came from the East, a land of trees and streams.

When the early white settlers  first moved out of the shadows of the woodlands and forests, into the  blinding prairie light and sky…

…they didn’t know how to respond to what they saw.

James Monroe, who later went on to become our fifth president, initially disparaged a land full of grass and flowers.

In 1786, he toured “the west,” which to Easterners, meant places like Illinois. In a letter written to Thomas Jefferson, he said:

“A great part of the territory is miserably poor, especially that near lakes Michigan & Erie & that upon the Mississippi & the Illinois consists of extensive plains which have not had from appearances & will not have a single bush on them, for ages.”

Little did you know, James Monroe.

While some would find the prairie frightening, and return to the East, shaken and homesick…

…and others would stay, but try to recreate the woodlands they’d left behind…

…there would be those who found the prairie perfect: just as it was.

For these settlers, the prairie grasses moved like waves in the sea.

…or, like herds of buffalo, “galloping, galloping,” as Willa Cather once imagined.

There was scope for the imagination in the wide prairie sky and changing tallgrass.

These prairie settlers saw beyond the comfort of the known. Their ideas of the world expanded in new directions as they crossed the tallgrass and grew to appreciate what it had to offer.

They were willing to think outside of conventional understandings of what was beautiful.

They recognized the splendor in the grasses.

All photos by Cindy Crosby (top to bottom): Willoway Brook on the Schulenberg Prairie Savanna, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; SP; horses at Autumn on the Prairie Event, Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL; blazing star (Liatris spp.), Tellabs Unit, NG;  preying mantis, SP; prairie and two-track at NG;  spotted Joe Pye weed (Eupatorium maculatum), Schulenberg Prairie Savanna; grasshopper, SP;  big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii), SP; prairie, NG; sumac (Rhus glabra) and grasses, NG; bison, NG; compass plants (Silphium laciniatum) in autumn, SP; switchgrass (Panicum virgatum), SP.

Bison reference is from Willa Cather’s My Antonia.

The (Prairie) Sky is the Limit

Look up.

Above the big bluestem, the prairie sky changes like a kaleidoscope.

Swirls of pastels.

Whipped cream and foam.

Relentless blue.

Marbled with milk.

There’s motion in the prairie sky. Movement.  It may make you dizzy.

Leave you dazzled.

Disquieted.

Disoriented.

Delighted.

All this is available to you… if you only look up.

All photos by Cindy Crosby: Prairie skies (top to bottom) Schulenberg Prairie at The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL; NG; SP; NG; NG; NG: SP; SP; SP.

A Lot of Gall

All that is gold, does not glitter. Especially in September… when the goldenrods bloom.

Ahhhhh chooo!  I don’t like that plant. Goldenrods make me sneeze! So you might say.

Not so fast. Goldenrods get a bad rap for fall allergies, although they are unlikely to be the culprit for your itchy, watery eyes. Goldenrod pollen is insect pollinated and has a difficult time finding its way to your sinuses.

Ragweed is the likely suspect, as it blooms about the same time as goldenrod and is wind pollinated, making it more likely to be inhaled. Blame it if  your eyes water and your sinuses are congested.

Now that you’re not nervous about getting acquainted with goldenrods, take a closer look. Do you see interesting-looking formations on some of the plants? Those are goldenrod galls. An gall is simply an abnormal growth, and in this case, caused by an immature insect.

The two most common goldenrod galls you’re likely to see on the Illinois’ prairie are the ball gall…

…and the bunch gall.

The ball gall is made by the tiny goldenrod gall fly. She lays her eggs on a goldenrod stem, and about a week or so later, the larvae hatches. It chews a tunnel into the stem where it sets up housekeeping for up to a year. The goldenrod stem gradually swells around the larvae, providing a safe spot for it to live and feed. Think of it as a spherical bed and breakfast.

If you enjoy fishing, as I do, you’ll know a ball gall is a good place to find bait. Cut open the ball gall, scrape out the larvae, and you’re in business. Woodpeckers and hungry, insect-loving birds are also in the know. You’ll sometimes find them pecking at ball galls, looking for dinner.

Bunch galls look almost as pretty as flowers.

Bunch galls are formed by the goldenrod gall midge, a tiny fly which lays its eggs in the leaf buds. The larvae short-circuits the normal growth of the plant, resulting in a an explosion of leaves that sometimes look like a stacked rosette, as you see in the photo above.

If you’re lucky, you might find a ball gall and a bunch gall on the same goldenrod plant.

And — no worries. Although they do take nutrients from the goldenrod,  most goldenrod galls are believed to be harmless. The plant is irritated, but tolerates them. Sort of like you might put up with the out of town relatives that were supposed to come to your house for the weekend, and stayed for a month.

Looking for different goldenrod galls on the tallgrass prairie is a great excuse to go for a hike on a sunny day in September.

But really…who needs an excuse?

All photos by Cindy Crosby. (Top to bottom): Goldenrod (Solidago spp.) and big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL; goldenrod, Schulenberg Prairie at The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; ball gall, RKP; bunch gall, RKP; ball gall, RKP;  bunch galls, RKP; ball gall and bunch galls, RKP; autumn at Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.

Some of the information in this essay is taken from the following sources: Brandeis University: http://www.bio.brandeis.edu/fieldbio/galls/galls.html; http://www.fcps.edu/islandcreekes/ecology/goldenrod_gall_fly.i.cfm.; http://www.hiltonpond.org; www4.um.edu/fieldstation/naturalhistory/bugoftheweek/galls_i.cfm; http://prairieecologist.com/2013/08/27/goldenrod-allergies-and-spitballs/;  Web MD: http://www.webmd.com/allergies/features/ragweed-pollen

The quote that begins the essay is from J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings.

September Song

The prairie orchestra tunes up. The conductor pauses, lifts her baton.

The earth slants. There’s a shift in the light.

September’s first full moon rises, red-tinged against the sky.

Days shorten. The prairie strikes new notes each morning . The first New England asters open, fringed blasts of color against a chorus of brassy golds and whites.

In my backyard, the feeders underscore the mornings with activity. Although the male hummingbirds have left for warmer climes, females and small fry remain, juicing up for the long journey across the Gulf of Mexico.

So tiny. And yet, capable of so much.

Monarch butterflies respond to orchestrated seasonal cues; sip goldenrod nectar, pack their butterfly bags for Mexico.

Green darner dragonflies swarm, a percussion of clicks, clacks, whirs and buzzes. They gird themselves for migration as well, although where they will end their journey remains a mystery.

The last white-faced meadowhawks and American rubyspot damselflies linger on the prairie, measuring their lives in moments. They pause. Rest.

There’s a melancholy feel to the days, a change to a minor key. Green, stippled chords of fruit cling to the rapidly undressing black walnut limbs that overhang the brook.

Willoway Brook catches the trees’ spent leaves, then moves them in legato downstream.

On the edge of the prairie, there’s a crescendo of white snakeroot, goldenrod, and lavender Joe Pye.

The bison at Nachusa Grasslands rustle the musical score of summer; turn it to the new pages of autumn. Their coats thicken in anticipation of the cold weather to come as the last echoes of hot weather begin to fade.

The conductor waves her baton, and tells the prairie: Make seeds… Seeds… SEEDS. The prairie responds in a wild orgy of outpouring.

Wild lettuce nods to the woodwinds, waiting to send its next generations  aloft.

I hike through Indian grass blooms, which shower me with staccato bits of yellow confetti. Later, I brush bits of gold out of my hair; flick them from my clothing.

But the music of the prairie stays with me, long after I’ve left the tallgrass.

It’s only the first verse of September’s song.

Just think of the beautiful music to come.

All photos by Cindy Crosby. (Top to bottom): White snakeroot (Eupatorium rugosum) and Canada goldenrod (Solidago canadensis), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; rising full moon, author’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL; New England aster (Symphyotrichum novae-angliae) SP; ruby-throated hummingbird, author’s backyard; monarch on Canada goldenrod, SP; white-faced meadowhawk dragonfly, SP; American rubyspot damselfly, SP;  black walnuts, SP; Willoway Brook, SP; oak savanna (white snakeroot; Canada goldenrod; Joe Pye weed, Eupatorium purpureum), SP; bison, Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL (The Nature Conservancy); wild lettuce (Lactuca virosa), SP; Indian grass (Sorghastrum nutans) SP. 

A Jingle for Gentians

Blue ones

cream ones

some are sort of pink.

Deep in the tallgrass

they’re gone in just a blink.

Unlike some other blooms

They may be a tight squeeze

That’s why gentian pollinators

tend toward bumblebees.

Amazing diversity

bison, butterflies, and flowers,

One of the reasons why the

prairie’s where I spend my hours.

If you haven’t been out yet

in the tallgrass  this season

I hope you’ll find that gentians

give you a reason.

***(Cream ones blooming now….. blue and pink ones in bloom soon…)

All photos by Cindy Crosby: Top to bottom: prairie gentian, Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum (Gentiana puberulenta); cream or yellowish gentian (Gentiana flavida), SP; stiff gentian (pink) (Gentiana quinquefolia), SP;  bottle gentian, Nachusa Grasslands (Gentiana andrewsii); cream gentian fading, SP;, tall coreopsis (Coreopsis tripteris), SP; bumblebee in cream gentian, SP; bumblebee outside of cream gentian, SP; bison, NG; monarch on rosinweed (Silphium integrifolium), SP; woman working on prairie, SP; common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca) and tallgrass, NG.