“The small things of life were often so much bigger than the great things . . . the trivial pleasures like cooking, one’s home, little poems–especially sad ones, solitary walks, funny things seen and overheard.” –―
Open windows. Cool breezes. That low slant of light. Autumn is here.
After dragonfly migration is finished, I always feel a bit of a letdown, as you might after the end of a long-anticipated party. Summer is over. But it’s impossible to feel too melancholy as the prairie ramps up its fall extravaganza. This year, the Indian grass, big bluestem, Maximilian sunflowers and tall coreopsis loom high, shooting toward the sky. Lush. Lanky. Resplendent. Many tallgrass trails are impassible and choked with thick vegetation. The recent deluge of rain left sunflowers too top-heavy to stand upright. Gold spills into the mowed paths.
The smell of prairie dropseed and damp earth permeates the air. The soundtrack of goldfinch chirps and blue jay calls is augmented by the insects tuning up each evening, a static that I sometimes don’t notice until it goes silent. The cacophony is already winding down; soon, we’ll lose this chorus altogether. Goldfinches are ravenous. It seems they can’t get their fill. They work over the prairie patch in my backyard like a bus full of tourists at an all-you-can-eat buffet restaurant.
An occasional crow inks its way across a mackerel sky, and I’m reminded to be grateful for each bird I see and hear, on the prairies and in my backyard. Bird conservation news has been dismal this week, and birds of the grasslands are faring the worst of all. It’s another reason to encourage establishments of new prairies, and to care for existing remnants and restorations.
September is arguably one of the most enjoyable months in the tallgrass. Have you been for a hike on the prairie this month? Do you need motivation to go? Consider a few of the September prairie’s “Greatest Hits.” Maybe one of them will give you a push out the door.
Compass Plants and Other Silphiums
As I wandered through my backyard prairie patch this week, I suddenly realized my prairie dock and compass plants failed to flower this season. Why didn’t they flower? I’m not sure. This flower-less state is not unprecedented, both in my backyard and on the prairie. Some years, they just… don’t flower! Anecdotally, it seems like the compass plants and prairie dock take a “rest” every few years from making flowers and seeds, the production of which is a huge output of energy.
I missed the tall bloom stalks of compass plant and prairie dock this summer, with the occasional goldfinch or hummingbird resting on top. The hummingbirds that sojourned through my backyard had to settle for the tall zinnias as surveillance platforms instead.
There are four members of the Silphium genus most prairie stewards concern themselves with: compass plant, prairie dock, rosinweed, and cup plant. (Read more about cup plant in a previous post here.) On Sunday, I went for my first big prairie hike since my surgery six weeks ago, visiting Belmont Prairie in Downer’s Grove for a half an hour. I compared their compass plants and prairie dock with my own backyard plants. The trails were cut back, making it easy to hike (thank you, Belmont prairie stewards and volunteers!) Woven compass plant leaves ranged from vibrant green to various stages of senesce.
Some leaves have already turned crisp and brown, curling into base clefs. Or perhaps, chocolate shavings.
Others were somewhere inbetween “vibrant” and “crunchy.”
I looked for prairie dock seedheads and came up empty. I only found desiccated leaves.
I did find rosinweed—the less showy of the Silphiums—which had flowered and gone to seed.
Click here and you can see what rosinweed looks like in bloom. Pretty. But I love it in the seed stage, each September seed cluster more intricate than its straightforward bright yellow flowers of summer.
The other three Silphiums are always show-stoppers; in bloom or in seed, or —if blooms fail—just for their changing leaves. Each member of the quartet has its individual charms. Especially this month.
Dazzling Asters and Glorious Goldenrods
September is peak time for asters and goldenrod. Yes—as I wrote last week—aster ID can be frustrating. It’s nice to be on the prairie, where many of the asters are easily identifiable. Tiny leaves help ID the pearly white flowers of heath aster (now with its unwieldy new genus name of Symphyotrichum ericoides).
The smooth blue asters have—as you’d expect—smooth stems and leaves. Here, they mix with the vibrant and colorful spent stems of flowering spurge. More about that plant in a minute.
September is the month for the eye-popping purple haze of the familiar New England asters , which to me signals the prairie bloom season’s grand finale.
The yellows of goldenrod are a worthy pairing for the asters. Ask any quilt maker, and they’ll tell you purple and yellow are complementary colors, great for contrast. The prairie liberally juxtaposes the two in September. What a show!
I’m imagining the faces of some of the prairie stewards and volunteers reading this right now. Goldenrod is a pain in the neck! you might say, shaking your head. I know, I know. When I began volunteering in natural areas almost 20 years ago, my first question to the steward was: “I should pull all this goldenrod, right?” I was surprised when the answer was “No!”, and to learn goldenrod was native to the Midwest.
If you spend time on a prairie or create a prairie in your backyard as I have, you may find goldenrod is—shall we say—a bit rambunctious. Sure, you might end up weeding out some of this native plant that is also a take-over specialist to make room for more diversity. But think of the nectar goldenrod provides for bees and butterflies! I became a goldenrod enthusiast when Jeff and I visited Kankakee Sands‘ prairies in September a few years ago, and we happened upon a monarch migration in progress. The butterflies were fueling up on stiff goldenrod.
Not convinced about goldenrod? A short visit to Belmont Prairie this month is enough to convert even the staunchest goldenrod hater.
Like all good things, goldenrod is perhaps best in moderation. But the insects love it. Which brings us to…
A Sweet Buzz
The bees are still with us. Bumble bees. Honey bees. Native bees in all patterns, sizes, and colors. In Illinois alone, there are 400-500 species of native bees! Hiking the September prairie, or standing in my backyard prairie patch, it’s difficult to imagine that in a few short months, the buzz will go mostly silent.
This week, I was reading a novel by British writer Barbara Pym when I ran across the phrase, “Tell the bees… .” What was this? I turned to Wiki for more information. Evidently, a European beekeeping custom is to let your bees know when important life events such as births, marriages, and deaths happen. If you fail to do so, so the folklore goes, the bees may leave their hive or fall into decline. You might also drape your bee hives in black if someone dies, or leave a slice of wedding cake next to the hives when a marriage takes place in the family. John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892) wrote a melancholy poem about this tradition, “Telling the Bees.”
I’m considering what I might “tell the prairie bees” this week. Be strong. Multiply. We need you to keep our prairies healthy. Thank you.
The fiery skippers have thrown themselves into September with a zeal I’ve not experienced before. They hang out around the prairie patch; perch and nectar on the zinnias in the garden.
The best way to see the skippers, I’ve discovered, is to sit somewhere close to a nectar source and pay attention. Not rocket science, is it? But how often I seem to be too busy to just sit and look! In September, the skippers are a reminder to do just that.
Unexpected Prairie Fall Color
Who needs autumn leaves when you have the prairie? The golds of Indian grass, the wine-blue Andropogon gerardii—big bluestem, the copper-colored little bluestem. Together, they make the September prairie breathtaking. I also anticipate the flowering spurge’s post-bloom color each year; the leaves and stems are every bit as pretty as the sugar maple’s leaves.
You can find these bright spots all across the tallgrass.
From a distance, they look almost pink. A startling color, in September.
Color. Textures. Buzz. Blooms. These are only a few of the September prairie’s greatest hits. What are your favorite sightings on the September prairie? Drop me a note, and let me know.
There is so much to enjoy on the prairie in September. So much to marvel about. The month is sliding to a close.
Why not go see?
Barbara Pym (1913-1980), whose quote opens this week’s post, was a British writer referred to as “the most underrated novelist of the century.” Her novel, Quartet in Autumn, was nominated for the Booker Prize. Another great quote from Pym; ““Virtue is an excellent thing and we should all strive after it, but it can sometimes be a little depressing.” I also love, “Of course it’s alright for librarians to smell of drink.” Pym died of breast cancer at 67.
All photos copyright Cindy Crosby (top to bottom): trail through Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve in September, Downer’s Grove, IL; Maximilian sunflowers (Helianthus maximiliani), Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downer’s Grove, IL; goldfinches (Spinus tristis) enjoying evening primrose seeds, author’s backyard prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL; mackerel sky over author’s backyard prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL; compass plant in bloom (Silphium lacinatum), Fermilab Interpretive Trail, Batavia, IL (from 2018); ruby-throated hummingbird (Archilochus colubris) on cut-and-come-again heirloom zinnias (Zinna elegans), author’s backyard garden, Glen Ellyn, IL; compass plant (Silphium lacinatum), Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downer’s Grove, IL; compass plant (Silphium lacinatum), Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downer’s Grove, IL; compass plant (Silphium lacinatum), Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downer’s Grove, IL; prairie dock (Silphium terebinthinaceaum), Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downer’s Grove, IL; rosinweed (Silphium integrafolia), Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downers Grove, IL; heath aster (Symphotrichum ericoides), Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downer’s Grove, IL; sky blue asters, Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downer’s Grove, IL; New England asters (Symphotrichum novae-angliae) with unknown aster (Symphotrichum spp.), author’s backyard prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL; tall goldenrod (Solidago altissima) with New England asters (Symphotrichum novae-angliae), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL (previously taken); monarch butterflies (Danaus plexippus) on stiff goldenrod (Oligoneuron rigidum) at Kankakee Sands in September 2017, Kankakee Sands Preserve, The Nature Conservancy Indiana, Newton, IN; asters and goldenrods in September, Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downer’s Grove, IL; unknown aster (Symphotrichum spp.) with honeybee (Apis mellifera) and unknown bumblebee (Bombus spp.), author’s backyard prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL; unknown bumblebee (Bombus spp.) on New England aster (Symphotrichum novae-angliae), author’s backyard prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL; fiery skipper (Hylephila phyleus) on cut-and-come-again heirloom zinnias (Zinna elegans), author’s backyard garden, Glen Ellyn, IL; flowering spurge (Euphorbia corollata) in September, Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downer’s Grove, IL; flowering spurge (Euphorbia corollata) in September, Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downer’s Grove, IL; flowering spurge (Euphorbia corollata) in September, Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downer’s Grove, IL.
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I too had the same experience with prairie dock and compass plant- no blooms. thanks for the explanation.
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Hi, Glenn –always good to know others are seeing the same things on the prairie! There may be a more scientific explanation for this — mine is observational over the 20 years I’ve been hiking the prairie. Hope both bloom next season! Thank you for reading and for taking a moment to drop me a note. –Cindy 🙂
Cindy, great to hear you are back hiking prairie.
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I have a new appreciation for all the “little things” I took for granted, Bernie! Thanks for reading, and taking time to drop me a note. Looking forward to getting out to Nachusa in a few weeks. — Cindy 🙂
Cindy, I enjoyed your post! I once heard a hypothesis that some long-lived plants like compass plant take collective breaks from blooming to knock down the population of stem boring insect pests.
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I like this hypothesis! Very interesting, Jim. Thanks for taking a moment to drop me a note, and for reading the blog. Grateful for your insights! — Cindy 🙂
So enjoyed the “bass clef” description of the compass plant. The music of the prairie is a joy as well. All of our senses are heightened at this time of year out there in the tallgrass. Thanks for your poetic writing. I so enjoy it each week.
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Thank you, wonderful Teri, for the kind note and for all you do for the prairie as a volunteer!! Your encouragement means a lot. Looking forward to seeing you and the prairie team in a few weeks. Thanks for reading, and for taking time to drop me a note here. — Cindy 🙂
You were missed at Nachusa’s Autumn on the Prairie this year, but I hope you’re easing back into tip-top. Clearly, your prairie poetry is sustenance in your life, and I thank you for reaching out to share your Tuesdays in the Tallgrass harvest with us.
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I missed our yearly “hello” in person, Sandy! So glad you were there. I’ve been grateful for my backyard prairie these past weeks. Thank you for your kind note and for reading so faithfully. I hope your September is wonderful! See you next year! Cindy 🙂
I always enjoy your posts. I hope you find the following information helpful.
As you know, I dig up tall goldenrod. I know it is native, but I am going to keep doing it. The reason for this is I have seen thousands of dollars’ worth of plantings taken over and shaded into oblivion by tall goldenrod. If the tall goldenrod is kept at bay for several years, then the conservative species can get established reducing the amount of further work that is needed. I only put this extreme effort into small plantings that have been established using plugs. People have dismissed what I do as ‘gardening’ rather than ecological restoration and I can’t disagree. However, sometimes you want prairie vegetation in a location visited by lots of people for educational and inspirational purposes. This is what must be done to reconstruct prairie where none exists.
In larger prairie reconstructions, there is too much tall goldenrod to dig up. At Spring Valley Nature Sanctuary, I have sown rope dodder (Cuscuta glomerata) into patches of tall goldenrod and sawtooth sunflower hoping to reduce them enough that other prairie species can establish. Vigorous clones of tall goldenrod exclude even the aggressive tall grasses with the result that fire does not carry through these patches. These zones, dominated by tall goldenrod, start succeeding into buckthorn, gray dogwood, and boxelder (originally pointed out to me by Stephen Packard). The rope dodder seems to help reduce the vigor of tall goldenrod and sawtooth sunflower, but I am not sure if it will be enough. This zone dominated by tall goldenrod in the best soil (neither too wet or too dry) will probably need continued work manually removing woody species for a long time. I hope these patches are not sprayed with a forb selective herbicide because some good things managed to get established before the tall goldenrod started dominating. These few established good things are still managing to hold their own. What to do about this problem is a conundrum for me.
You can see the beautiful, but dominating, tall goldenrod in the photo heading Spring Valley’s Website.
My efforts are not impacting the population of tall goldenrod or sawtooth sunflower much at all. There will still be plenty along every roadside and fallowed agricultural field for the bees and butterflies. My efforts simply help provide the bee and butterflies with more variety.
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Hello, James! Goldenrod can be glorious and also, overly-rambunctious, as you said! Good for you, working toward diversity at Spring Valley. It’s such a beautiful site, and they are lucky to have you. We struggle with buckthorn and gray dogwood on the Schulenberg Prairie as well. We’re fortunate not to have a goldenrod problem….yet! 🙂 Keep up the good work, and as always, I’m grateful to you for reading and taking time to keep in touch with your management work. It’s important, and we need 100s more stewards like you! — Cindy 🙂
Late September: Finches riding the undulating waving plant stalks feeding on seed, then fliting away across the prairie grass tops : )
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Love your observation, Mike! And so appreciate you reading and taking time to write your specific “greatest hit” here. Enjoy the last days of September!
Thanks Cindy! I assume your zinnias were grown from organic seed? After reading about the neonicotinoids (pesticides) most nurseries are using on bedding plants, I went and harvested all my zinnia flowers for indoor bouquets to prevent harm to pollinators. I have had monarchs migrating through my prairie garden and stopping on the zinnias. There is plenty of goldenrod and New England asters etc. blooming now for them. Also, on another note, our local Thornwood Park (in Wilmette, IL) was humming with hundreds of dragonflies this morning! They were black-bodied. Must be migrating….
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Hello, Martha — I’m so grateful you are reading and following the blog! Neonicotinoids are a serious issue, and it’s good to be aware of how they affect the plants we buy. I appreciate you bringing that to our attention. Nice to know you are still seeing dragonfly migration in process! I thought it was over here — but we saw a small group moving through again yesterday. They keep on coming…. Enjoy these last days of fall, and thanks for your note. — Cindy 🙂
I’ve shut down my own blog, and am leaving my Ontario home for good. I will miss this area and the plants and wildlife we share in this area. I’m looking forward to reading your beautiful observations of ‘home’ from the west coast because these seasons imprint on the mind and soul
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Tashakatt — hope your move is a good one, and you keep those prairie memories close to your heart! Thank you for reading, and for staying in touch with the tallgrass prairie through this blog. Safe travels!– Cindy 🙂
We have to take out a lot tall goldenrod from our native area too. Glad we did it this year because it made more room for the asters – several species this year and all spectacular!
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Great to hear about your asters, Marcy! Thank you for taking time to comment, and for reading the blog. Keep up the good work for prairie! — Cindy 🙂