“When trying to identify birds it is important to remember the following motto: I don’t know.”—Chris Earley
******
What a beautiful week it is shaping up to be in the Chicago region. Spring has landed in full force. Last night, a crescent moon set in the west, with Venus and Mars nearby. Gemini constellation stars Castor and Pollux glittered bright in the night. Summer! It seems only a breath away.
Waxing crescent moon with bright Venus on the left, then Castor and Pollux glowing just above and Mars at the top left, Glen Ellyn, IL.
The tallgrass prairie, rejuvenated by fire, is aflame with wildflowers.
Wild lupine (Lupinus perennis) and golden alexanders (Zizia aurea), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
It’s easy to be motivated to go for a prairie hike with temperatures in the 70s, few bugs out, and cool breezes.
Cream wild indigo (Baptisia bracteata), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
Each day on the May prairie is an exercise in discovery, from the first tiny Eastern Forktail damselflies that show up…
Eastern forktail damselfly (male) (Ischnura verticalis), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
…to the big charismatic megafauna, lumbering through the tallgrass.
Bison (Bison bison), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
In the mornings, I wake up and sit with my coffee on the back porch where I indulge my latest obsession: Merlin Sound ID, part of the Merlin Bird ID free cell phone app. A decade and a half ago, when cell phones became a thing, I was a reluctant adopter. But the nature apps have changed all that. Each morning, I open up the “bird sound” option on Merlin and let it record as I get my caffeine fix. What an eye-opener—especially during spring migration! I’ve never seen some of the birds Merlin tells me are out and about in my yard; blackpoll warbler, Lincoln’s sparrow (!!), Tennessee warbler, northern mockingbird. But, when I see the name light up and then, listen for that bird calling, I’m often able to match the song to the bird.
Just another day in the backyard (Glen Ellyn, IL).
I keep my Kenn Kaufman Birds of North America and Peterson Field Guide to Birds open by my side and read about each bird’s habitat, food preference, and migratory habits when the bird shows up. What fun! My binoculars are at the ready, as is my camera, but so far I’ve failed at getting good photos from my porch of anything other than the usual cardinals, goldfinches, house sparrows and downy woodpeckers at the feeders. My photos of more elusive birds tend to look like this:
How come so many cool birds hang out in the upper tree canopy?Shy, maybe?Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
The neighbors are starting to get nervous as I glass the their trees with my binoculars, or stand at the edges of their lawns with my camera. So far, I’ve not actually gone into their yards, but it’s only a matter of time.
Our backyard feeders are filled and ready for customers. The first hummingbird showed up last Wednesday to check out the territory. I love the ruby-throated hummingbirds! We plant a lot of wildflowers just for them. As summer heats up, they’ll swarm the zinnias, cardinal flowers, wild bergamot, butterfly weed, and even the blazing stars. The sugar water is just a bonus.
Eastern fox squirrel (Sciurus niger), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL (2020).
Ah, well. At least I can get a good photo of this species. Always willing to pose for food!
A few weeks ago, John Harris, my prairie co-steward, suggested turning the Merlin sound app on during work mornings to help our little band of prairie volunteers understand what birds are around us as we pull weeds. (Thanks, John). Wow! The list is long—much longer than I would have dreamed. Where before I might notice a bluebird or a cardinal flying along the edges of the prairie, I’m now tuning in to a long list of feathered members of our tallgrass community formerly unknown to me by sight or sound.
It’s a great reminder of how invisible much of the natural world is to us, especially when we’re older and our hearing isn’t as good as it once was. Using the app is teaching me to pay attention more closely, using my sense of hearing. Listening has has not always been my first “sense” when hiking or spending time outdoors. In the suburbs, I’m often trying not to hear things: jet noise, highway clamor, the whine of leaf blowers and lawn mowers. Tuning into sounds instead of tuning noise out is an intriguing idea.
Balsam ragwort (Packera paupercula), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
Is the Merlin app perfect? Probably not (although it’s spot on so far). But it’s been a launching point for learning. It wakes me up to wonder.
Swallows (possibly tree swallows —Tachycineta bicolor), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
I love that. So much of my sense of wonder has been sparked by what I see, not what I hear.
Wild lupine (Lupinus perennis), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
Listening is a new adventure.
Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
The only downside? My friends and family are going to have to put up with endless chatter about another one of my “enthusiasms.”
Meadow anemone (Anemone canadensis), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
But when I think of ways I can spend my time, attending to birdsong is a pretty good use of my hours.
Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
Anything that brings a little more wonder in my world—even my cell phone—is always welcome.
****
The opening quote is from Guelph Arboretum (Ontario) interpretive biologist Chris G. Earley (1968-) from his charming book, Sparrows & Finches of the Great Lakes Region & Eastern North America, written for adult readers (Thank you John Heneghan for the book loan). I’m a big fan of Earley’s books, especially his children’s guide Dragonflies: Catching—Identifying–How and Where They Live (2013). I always come away delighted and with a new nugget of knowledge.
*****
Join Cindy for a program or class!
The Tallgrass Prairie: An Introduction–on National Prairie Day! Saturday, June 3, 1-2:30 p.m. CT, Sterling Farmer’s Market (at the Pavilion) in Sterling, IL. Free and open to the public. Indoors in case of rain.
Literary Gardens Online –-Wednesday, June 7, 7-8:15 p.m. CT, Bensenville Public Library, Bensenville, IL, via Zoom. Free but you must register to receive the link (participation may be limited to first sign ups). For more information and to register, contact the library at 630-766-4642.
“In Conversation Online with Robin Wall Kimmerer,” June 21, 2023, 7-8 pm CT via Zoom. Brought to you by “Illinois Libraries Present.” Number of registrations available may be limited, so register here soon.
Beginning Dragonfly and Damselfly ID — Friday, June 23, 8:30am-12:30 pm CT, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL. Registration coming soon. This class is split between classroom and field work. Fun!
April in the Midwest is not for the faint of heart. We woke up Monday in the Chicago Region to blustery winds, falling snow, and temperatures which plunged down, down, down.
After joking with friends earlier last week that we had gone straight from winter to summer—we’d even put the hummingbird feeder out— the weather gods must have taken notice. Take that!
Hummingbird feeder with no takers, Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Ah, well. It’s spring in Illinois.
The 100-acre Schulenberg Prairie where I’m a steward was burned last week. I was glad to see it, although the prescribed fire was later in the season than usual and nipped some of the newly-emerged plants.
Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
I don’t think it will set back the rattlesnake master much.
There were some casualties. Oh, the pasque flowers! They are always one of our first prairie wildflowers to bloom each spring. The name comes from the Hebrew “pasakh” for “Passover” and is also known as “Easter flower” for its bloom season. The flowers were right on time this year before the prescribed burn.
Pasque flowers (Pulsatilla patens), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL (2016).
If you are a long-time reader of Tuesdays in the Tallgrass, you’ll remember we were down to one or two of these beautiful specimens a half dozen years ago. We collected seed from the mother plant, as well as sourced more seed from a generous forest preserve. Then the Arboretum’s wonderful greenhouse staff grew the seeds out for us. Pasque flower germinates poorly, so we were delighted to have 30 plants to place on the prairie.
Pasque flower (Pulsatilla patens) seedlings, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
So it’s a bit of a heartbreak to see them after the fire.
It’s the life of a prairie steward. Three steps forward. Two steps back. The fire was critical to the health of the prairie, so most plants will benefit. Poor pasque flowers! One of the hazards of being an early spring prairie bloomer. We’ll see if any other pasque flower plants made it as the weeks unfold.
As consolation, Jeff and I dropped in at the Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie in Glenview, IL, this past week. It’s one of my favorite prairies to visit.
Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.
This evening it’s quiet, except for a rowdy flock of red-winged blackbirds and grackles. Almost 60! They move in large groups from tree to tree. The late slant of sun polishes the grackles’ blue and black to a high sheen.
Common grackle (Quiscalus quiscula), Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.
It seems unfair that a flock of grackles is called “a plague.” As we enter the fourth year of the pandemic, we have an inkling of what a “plague” is like, and this ain’t it. Another name for their flocks: An “annoyance” of grackles. Ha! I like the red-winged blackbird’s group names better: a “cloud,” “cluster,” or a “merl.”
We see a few house finches as we hike, hanging out on top of a birdhouse that I don’t believe was intended for them. The males are pretty in their raspberry breeding plumage.
House finches (Haemorhous mexicanus), Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.
Bird names aside, we revel in naming some of the prairie plants we see still standing on the unburned prairie. Switchgrass.
Switchgrass (Panicum virgatum), Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.
Wild bergamot.
Wild bergamot (Monarda fistulosa), Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.
Dogbane, sometimes called Indian hemp.
Dogbane or Indian hemp (Apocynum cannabinum), Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.
Prairie dock, with a thicker-than-usual stem. Interesting! I wonder why?
Prairie dock (Silphium terabinthinaceum), Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.
As we hike, we notice two visitors on the trail peering through their binoculars at…something. I look into the wetlands, but can’t see anything unusual.
Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.
Fortunately, they are—like so many birders—friendly and generous with their knowledge. “Look over here,” one of them says, pointing.
And then I see it. Virginia rail!
Virginia rail (Rallus limicola), Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.
The reclusive bird with “Ticket! Ticket!” call has always evaded my camera. I click shot after shot, unable to believe my luck.
Virginia rail (Rallus limicola), Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.
But that’s not all…
Sora!
Sora (Prozana carolina), Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.
Another bird I’ve not been able to get a photo of. Even though, as Cornell University tells us, it is “the most abundant and widespread rail (a family of small to mid-sized birds) in North America.” What bizarre calls this bird has! (Be sure and click to listen to several of the recordings to hear the “whinny” call.) We linger, watching and listening.
Thanking the generous birders profusely, we make our way back to the parking lot, admiring the now-closed interpretive center as we go.
Evelyn Pease Tyner Interpretive Center, Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.
It was a short prairie hike.
But what a wealth of delights that April—this mercurial month—had for us on the prairie this week.
Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.
Who knows what else we’ll see this month on the prairies?
I can’t wait to find out.
****
The opening quote is from T.S. Eliot’s (1888-1965) “The Wasteland.” Read more about his life at the Poetry Foundation, or listen to Eliot read his words here.
*****
Join Cindy for a Program or Class this Spring
The Tallgrass Prairie: An Introduction—Tuesday, April 18, Algonquin Garden Club, 12:30-2 p.m. (Closed event for members)
Spring Wildflower and Ethnobotany Walk—Thursday, April 20, 8:30-10:30 am or Saturday, April 29, 8:30-10:30am at The Morton Arboretum. Registration information here.(Both walks SOLD OUT, ask to be put on a waiting list)
The Tallgrass Prairie in Popular Culture –Sunday, April 23, 2-5 p.m. The Land Conservancy’s 32nd Annual Celebration, High Tea at the McHenry Country Club, Woodstock, IL. Tickets are $45-$70 — available here. If you live in the area, please support the great work this organization does for prairies and our natural lands.
I’m excited to moderate “In Conversation Online with Robin Wall Kimmerer,” June 21, 2023, 7-8 pm via Zoom. Brought to you by Illinois Libraries Present. Numbers may be limited, so register here soon!
“The bumblebee consults his blossoms and the gardener his catalogs, which blossom extravagantly at this season, luring him with their four-color fantasies of bloom and abundance.”—Michael Pollan
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It’s that time of year.
Garden catalogs, Glen Ellyn, IL.
My mailbox overflows. Catalogs from Prairie Moon Nursery. Prairie Nursery. Park Seed. Burpee. Seed Savers Exchange.
You get the idea.
Still, these are not enough. The more garden catalogs I receive, the more I yearn for the ones I don’t have. (Baker Creek Heirloom Seed, where, oh where, is the catalog I requested?) Evenings, I pore over my precious stack. Make lists. Compare prices. Check shipping costs. Consult last year’s lists of successes and failures. I order from some companies, like Prairie Moon Nursery, even when I don’t particularly need to. I want to see them stay in business.
The packet pictures are a foreshadowing of the season to come. Little envelopes full of dreams.
So many seed packets! So little time. Not pictured: Many more…. .
Last August, I swore I’d order no tomatoes and peppers in 2023. The bounty of the past few gardening seasons has been incredible. We pop frozen cherry tomatoes in chili all winter; shake out chopped sweet peppers into scrambled eggs. Never have such few plants produced so much bounty. And yet… .
I may plant a few cherry tomato plants; plus a SuperSauce tomato or two. Perhaps a couple of peppers. You know…three plants, max. After all, tomatoes and peppers are part of the joy of summer.
There is a flotilla of mergansers, diving and dabbling. A birder tells us he sees the lesser scaup and we zoom in on a few, hoping to see the field marks. I dutifully enter that species in eBird, but I’m not sure. When I return home, and blow up my blurry photos, I consult a birding friend. Ring-necked duck, we both agree—a life bird for me. But my oh my! The ring-necks and the scaups look so much alike.
Best guess is that these are ring-necked ducks (Aythya collaris), but I’d appreciate correction. Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.
So much to learn! I edit my eBird entries and cross my fingers, hoping I’ve got it all right. It’s fun to see new species, even if the waterfowl are confusing.
I don’t have to worry about identifying the starlings. They lift off from a tree in waves, then float through the sky in groups known as murmurations. I’m not fond of starlings (a non-native species), but I can’t help but admire their choreography.
European starlings (Sturnus vulgaris), Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.
As we hike around the lake, checking for birds, we admire the 365 view. Danada Forest Preserve and its prairie plantings are directly across a busy highway from endless shopping strips and restaurants. Jets lift off from Chicago-O’Hare International Airport, adding their grumble to the birdsong.
Across the highway from Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.
How wonderful that this preserve was set apart. As we hike alongside families, bikers, horseback riders, and older folks, I feel a sense of gratitude.
Rice Lake, Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL (cell phone image).
A turkey vulture flies high overhead.
Turkey vulture (Cathartes aura) over Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.
Clouds gather in the west and a mackerel sky foretells the coming rain. We’ve hiked further than we intended, and forgotten our water bottles.
Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.
By the time we make it back to the car, we’re ready to put up our feet and rest.
Indian hemp (Apocynum cannabinum), sometimes called dogbane, Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.
What a joy to hike the prairie this month! What a delight to see new birds. How fun to anticipate the warmer season on the way, and then, return home to once again browse the garden catalogs.
What a marvelous month you are, March. I can’t wait to see what other delights you have to show us.
******
This post kicks off with a quote from one of my favorite chapters in Michael Pollan’s book, Second Nature:”Made Wild By Pompous Catalogs.” Pollan (1955-) who writes compellingly about the frustrations, joys, and desires of the home gardener, also authored Botany of Desire and The Omnivore’s Dilemma, two books that are must-reads. Read more about him here.
*****
Join Cindy for a Class or Program in March!
Literary Gardens —In Person— March 7, 7-8:30 p.m,– Hosted by the ELA Library and Lake Zurich Garden Club. Location change — now at St. Matthews Lutheran Church, Hawthorn Woods, IL. Free and open to the public. For more information, visit here.
Illinois’ Wild and Wonderful Early Bloomers ONLINE — March 15, 7-8:30 p.m., Hosted by Bensonville Public Library. Free and open to the public, but you must register for the link by calling the library. Contact information here.
Illinois’ Wild and Wonderful Early Bloomers ONLINE –March 16, 7-8:30 p.m., Hosted by the Rock Valley Wild Ones. This event was formerly a blended program and is now online only. Open to the public; but you must register. Contact information is here.
Literary Gardens — In Person —– Saturday, March 18, 9am-12:30 pm. Keynote for “Ready, Set, Grow!” Master Gardeners of Carroll, Lee, Ogle, and Whiteside Counties through The Illinois Extension. Dixon, IL. Registration ($25) is offered here.
The Morton Arboretum’s “Women in the Environment Series”: The Legacy of May T. Watts— (in person and online)—with lead instructor and Sterling Morton Librarian extraordinaire Rita Hassert. March 24, 10-11:30 a.m., Founders Room, Thornhill. Registration information available here.
Literary Gardens–In Person — Wednesday, March 29, 7-8:30 p.m. La Grange Park Public Library, LaGrange, IL. (free but limited to 25 people). For more information, contact the library here.
See Cindy’s website for more spring programs and classes.
*****
Bell Bowl Prairie in Rockford, IL, needs your help. As of this writing, it appears the bulldozers (as May Watts would say) are drooling. The destruction of this remnant is near at hand. Find out how you can help save this threatened prairie remnant at SaveBellBowlPrairie.
“The things most worth wanting are not available everywhere all the time.” —Alice Waters
*****
When you hear the word February, what comes to mind? Ice, maybe? Wind. Sleet. Snowstorms.
Shoe Factory Road Prairie, Hoffman Estates, IL.
Mud? We’ve had plenty of it this year, with warming temperatures in the Chicago Region and concentrated sunshine, turning our expectations for the frigid month upside down.
It’s a rollercoaster month. 50 degrees. Freezing. Snow. Spring-like temperatures.
In my backyard, hip boots are necessary to navigate the mud. As I make my way to the compost pile, swinging a container of coffee grounds and wilted lettuce leaves, the birds at the feeders take flight. So many!
Juncos. Cardinals. House finches.
House finch (Haemorhous mexicanus), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
In the evenings, the mourning doves gather on the heated bird baths for warmth, keeping a sleepy lookout for the Cooper’s hawk that frequents the backyard.
Mourning dove posse (Zenaida macroura), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Did you know a group of mourning doves is called a “pitying” or “piteousness”? What a good collective noun! I see a few of these doves now, pecking along the porch for spilled seed.
In the mornings when I replenish the feeders, an eastern cottontail leaps away at my approach. She’s been snacking on birdseed. Birdseed? I read up on bunnies, and discover they like the sunflower, safflower, and other seeds that sift from the feeders.
If I look closely where the rabbit is foraging, I see our first spring bulbs are budding and blooming. Mixing these bulbs into the native prairie dropseed plantings along the back porch, where the flowers are easily visible from my kitchen window, makes doing the dishes less of a drudgery.
Crocus (Crocus sp.) coming up in the prairie dropseed (Sporobolus heterolepis), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
So cheerful! I’m ready for a few flowers. Bring them on!
Our herd of chubby squirrels barely acknowledges my treks through the backyard. Her again. They look up—hopefully?
Then, they return to their feeder reconnaissance. Lately, they’ve been nibbling holes in the finch socks packed with Nyjer seed. I didn’t think they’d eat Nyjer seed! Oh bother! as Winnie the Pooh says. Guess I’ll have to put a squirrel baffle on that feeder pole.
Gray squirrel (Sciurus carolinensis), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL. Look at those spring bulb leaves!
A glance at the prairie planting across the back of the yard tells me, yes, it’s February. Everything sags. The planting is in tatters. Most of the seeds have long fallen, and the skeletal remains of sneezeweed, Joe Pye, compass plant and prairie dock are bedraggled and worn.
I leave the native plants standing for insects who overwinter and use them as temporary housing. A friend suggested that I wait until temperatures are reliably in the 50s for a few weeks before I clean up my prairie patch, for that reason. I may also cut and stack some of the old foliage to the side if a prescribed burn is in the works before then. We’ll see what weather the end of the month brings.
Meanwhile, I visit nearby prairies. Just the sight of them lifts my spirits.
Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
The sheer masses of native plants look less forlorn than my small prairie patches; there’s beauty in the aggregate. Snow? Depends on where you are. The snow still lingers on prairies a few miles north, where last week’s storm left a few inches behind.
Shoe Factory Road Prairie, Hoffman Estates, IL.
Near me, the prairie trails are full of mud, with snow left in the shady spots. But—the joy of blazing blue skies! Those crosshatches of jet contrails and random clouds.
Shoe Factory Road Prairie, Hoffman Estates, IL.
The smell of decay and fresh green shoots spearing through the mud and slush. The sound of running water as I cross the bridge over Willoway Brook.
Bridge shadows over Willoway Brook, Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.
The clamor of birds arriving and departing, both on the prairies and from my backyard feeders.
Northern cardinals (Cardinalis cardinalis), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL (2022).
February.
Shoe Factory Road Prairie, Hoffman Estates, IL.
I’m going to miss you in a few weeks when we wrap up the month. Yes. Really.
Later, as I stand on the patio, I hear something. Faint, then…Louder. LOUDER.
Sandhill cranes (Antigone canadensis), over Crosby’s house in Glen Ellyn, IL (2-20-23)
I shield my eyes against the sun. It’s the sandhill cranes! They’re back!
Sandhill cranes (Antigone canadensis), over Crosby’s house in Glen Ellyn, IL (2-20-23).
My pulse quickens.
Spring? It’s on the way.
******
The opening quote was taken from This Organic Life: Confessions of a Suburban Homesteaderby Joan Dye Gussow (2001). In her book, she includes the quote from Alice Waters (1944-), an American chef, food activist, and author of several cookbooks and a memoir. Waters’ promotion of organic, sustainable food choices and gardening have been influential in promoting sustainability and healthy food, especially for school children who benefited from her School Lunch Initiative and Edible Schoolyard programs. Read more about Waters here.
******
Join Cindy for a class or program!
Literary Gardens —In Person— March 7, 7-8:30 p.m.—In person. Hosted by the ELA Library and Lake Zurich Garden Club. Location change — now at St. Matthews Lutheran Church, Hawthorn Woods, IL. Free and open to the public. For more information, visit here.
Illinois’ Wild and Wonderful Early Bloomers ONLINE — March 15, 7-8:30 p.m., Hosted by Bensonville Public Library. Free and open to the public, but you must register for the link by calling the library. Contact information click here.
Illinois’ Wild and Wonderful Early Bloomers ONLINE –March 16, 7-8:30 p.m., Hosted by the Rock Valley Wild Ones. This event was formerly a blended program and is now online only. Open to the public; but you must register. Contact information is here.
The Morton Arboretum’s “Women in the Environment Series”: The Legacy of May T. Watts— (in person and online)—with lead instructor and Sterling Morton Librarian extraordinaire Rita Hassert. March 24, 10-11:30 a.m., Founders Room, Thornhill. Registration information available here.
See Cindy’s website for more spring programs and classes.
*****
Bell Bowl Prairie in Rockford, IL, needs your help! Find out more on saving this threatened prairie remnant at SaveBellBowlPrairie.
“Even then, I sensed that the buffalo signaled something profound….”–Dan O’Brien
******
We followed the sandhill cranes south this weekend…
Sandhill cranes (Antigone canadensis) and sun halo, Glen Ellyn, IL (2016).
…as we traveled to central Indiana. The morning skies were an ever-changing source of awe, from the moment we started our drive at sunrise…
Sunrise over the interstate, just outside DuPage County, IL (cell phone image).
…to the beautiful morning cloud formations over the corn fields of the northwestern corner of the Hoosier state.
Headed south down Interstate 65 in Indiana. (Cell phone photograph).
And a lunar eclipse! Still to come.
A favorite stop when we travel this way is Kankakee Sands in Indiana’s northwest corner. This past Saturday, we celebrated “National Bison Day” honoring our official United States mammal, so it seemed like a no-brainer to carve out a few extra miles to see if we could get a glimpse of this charismatic megafauna.
Bison viewing area, Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.
Kankakee Sands is a beautiful mosaic of wetlands and prairie, part of a greater conservation effort that includes about 20,000 acres. Within its acres are 86 rare, threatened, and endangered species.
Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.
We don’t always see the bison when we stop, but this time, we were in luck.
Bison (Bison bison), Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.
What awe-inspiring creatures! Two young bison stuck close to their mama, while keeping an eye on us.
Bison (Bison bison), Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.
We watched another part of the herd run by in the distance. Bison can attain speeds of up to 35 mph. How can animals that can weigh more than 2,000 pounds move so quickly? What made them hurry to the other end of the prairie?
No idea. But they were fun to watch.
We took a few moments to walk the hiking trail at less-than-bison speed…
Trailhead at Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.
…and stretched our legs after the long car journey. From the trail, we could observe some of the prairie plants in their full fall glory.
Hiking the trails at Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.
Little bluestem is at its peak.
Little bluestem (Schizachryrium scoparium), Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.
What a glorious grass! Those rust hues. Those seeds, which spark the sunlight! It’s a lovely grass for home plantings, as well as on the larger landscape of the tallgrass prairie. I was reminded that I have three little bluestem plugs still waiting to be planted at home, sitting on my porch. Ha! Better get those in soon.
Little Bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium), Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.
Tufted thistle swirled its seeds into the wind as we watched.
Pasture thistle (Cirsium discolor), Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.
The wind had also broken off mullein’s tall spikes…
The non-native common or great mullein (Verbascum thapsus), Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.
The native—but weedy—seedheads of evening primrose swayed in the breezes.
Evening primrose (Oenothera biennis), Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.
On the hill at the end of the trail, a tall tree, denuded of most of its leaves, loomed in the dying light. Very November-esque.
Tree at Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.
In the distance, white tailed deer mingled with the bison. They seemed content to share the prairie. Although we didn’t hear birdsong, we saw evidence of birds that were long gone south.
And then suddenly…a northern harrier cannonballed out of the grasses. Wow!
Northern harrier (Circuscyaneus), Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.
We watched it soar over the prairie; a fast-moving blur. It was quickly lost in the dying light.
Northern harrier (Circuscyaneus), Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.
While we were startled by the owl-like northern harrier, the mama bison and her young ones placidly grazed in the tallgrass. For them, it was just another part of a normal evening on the prairie.
Bison (Bison bison) at Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.
What a peaceful scene, yet full of surprises. I felt myself relax. The prairie has a way of reminding me what contentment feels like.
The most difficult part of going to Kankakee Sands is making the decision to leave, and face the last leg of traffic entering Chicago. So much beautiful prairie here, all around. What an worth-while place to stop for a hike.
Dusk at Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.
On the drive home, closing out our Sunday, we watched an almost-full moon rise over the 34-acre Biesecker Prairie as we waited at a stoplight for the light to change in St. John, Indiana. The prairie is right at the intersection.
Almost-full moon rise over Biesecker Prairie, St. John, IN (cell phone photo).
It was worth setting the alarm for. Pretty spectacular.
Full Beaver Blood Moon Lunar Eclipse with stars, 4:58 am, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Bison. A lunar eclipse. Prairies. What a wonderful way to begin the week. Who knows what other treats are in store?
I can’t wait to find out.
*****
The opening quote is from Buffalo for the Broken Heart by Dan O’Brien (1966-). The New York Times notes O’Brien has a “keen and poetic eye” as he writes about his struggles to raise bison on a Black Hills ranch. Read more about his life and work here.
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Close out 2022 by Joining Cindy for a Class or Program
Saturday, November 12, 2022 (1-2:30 p.m.) Add a Little Prairie to Your Garden, hosted by the Antioch Garden Club, Antioch, IL. In-person. Free and open to the public, but you must register. For information and to inquire about registering for the event, visit the garden club’s website here.
Wednesday, December 7, 2022 (6:30-8:30 p.m.) 100 Years Around the Arboretum. Join Cindy and Library Collections Manager Rita Hassert for a fun-filled evening and a celebratory cocktail as we toast the closing month of the Arboretum’s centennial year. In-person. Register here.
A very happy birthday to Trevor Dean Edmonson, site manager at Kankakee Sands, whose birthday is today! Thank you for the work you do!
“Listen!—it rains; it rains! The prayer of the grass is heard… .” –Frederick J. Atwood
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Rain stormed in with lights and fireworks this weekend, bringing long-needed relief to the Chicago western suburbs. And, a few flooded basements. This was substantial rain; rain that meant business. Rain that overflowed creek and river banks. Rain that soaked deep.
In the prairie planting, asters and goldenrod bowed under the water’s weight. Great blue lobelia and black-eyed Susans, at the mercy of my garden hose for the past week, perked up at a chance for real water. Rain.
Great blue lobelia (Lobelia silphilitum) and black-eyed Susans (Rudbeckia hirta), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Spider webs sprang into view, bedazzled by raindrops.
Spider web, Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
In the front yard prairie pollinator planting, I parted the sodden flowers of showy goldenrod. Deep inside were sheltering insects, including one rain-soaked bumblebee.
Common eastern bumblebee (Bombus impatiens) on showy goldenrod (Solidago speciosa), Crosby’s front yard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
As the clouds passed and the flowers dried, pollinators shook off the wet and took wing. I spent some time on iNaturalist and with various online insect guides before naming this one below. I believe it is the transverse banded drone fly, sometimes called a “flower fly.”
Possibly the transverse banded drone fly (Eristalis transversa), Crosby’s front yard, Glen Ellyn, IL.Corrections welcome!
I’m still learning insect ID (thanks, gentle readers, for your correction of the wasp to the hover fly in last week’s blog), so I’m not 100 percent certain. But by any name, it’s a stunning little insect.
Showers brought out sky blue aster blooms in my front yard planting. I’m delighted to see the three plants I put in this spring made it to the fall finish line, after being nibbled almost to death by rabbits all summer.
Sky blue aster (Symphyotrichum oolentangiense), Crosby’s front yard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
The scientific name of this aster—Symphyotrichum oolentangiense—is a mouthful. Originally, the name was in honor of Ohio’s Olentangy River by botanist John Riddell, but the river’s name was misspelled. For a short time, the New York National Heritage Program tells us it was Aster azureus, which is much easier for naturalists like myself to pronounce, until the genus became Symphyotrichum. Ah, well. Nobody said botany would be easy.
I was grateful beyond words for the rainfall, but also, for the cooler, sunny weather of the past week. Meals moved back to the patio as the temperatures swung from “steamy” to “crisp and cool.” This gave us a a front row seat this weekend to keep an eye on the moonflower vine, whose two buds we’ve been watching with rapt attention.
No, it’s not a native plant. But I make a place for it in my prairie garden each season. It’s a long wait from the direct sowing the seeds to that first flower. About two months, most seasons. This year it has been a little longer, likely because of the dry weather, and of the five or so seeds I planted, only one survived. Just this week I noticed it had leapt from the trellis by the patio to the arborvitae. That’s a first! Usually I wind the vining tendrils up and down and across the trellis. This one got away from me.
On Saturday, after reading on the back porch for a while, I put down my book on the patio table and went in to fix dinner. When I brought out dinner, one of the moonflower buds had opened. Wow! Jeff and I “oohhed” and “aahhed” as our dinner cooled and we admired the first bloom of the season. It must have been waiting for the Harvest Moon to open. Our moonflower has a light fragrance, something like vanilla. After dark, I went to admire it one last time before bed.
The song “Nights in White Satin” comes to mind. We never have very many moonflowers; frost kicks in around the first or second week of October in our part of Illinois and crumples the vine just as it gets going in earnest. Each bloom only lasts one night. By morning, this one was only a memory. Such a fleeting pleasure! Is it worth it to give it a space? I’ve always thought so. Night-blooming flowers are rare in my region, and this one’s a beauty.
However, not all vines give me this much pleasure. Last week I mentioned I was besieged with the non-native perennial vine sweet autumn clematis (Clematis terniflora). It covers part of my garden like a snowdrift. Or maybe kudzu. The doc says I can’t pull weeds for three more weeks, so I can only stand back and sigh. At least it smells pretty! But, it is suffocating my two pricey spice bush saplings, my blazing star, my white wild indigo, my….well, you get the idea. It’s out of control. It makes my rambunctious native arrow-leaved asters look well-behaved.
Arrow-leaved aster (Symphyotrichum sagittifolium) with sweet autumn clematis (Clematis terniflora) in the background, Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
I wrote last week that I was considering replacing the sweet autumn clematis next year with virgin’s bower (Clematis virginiana), an Illinois native. One of the reasons I love being a part of the prairie and garden community is learning from my readers, who sent me emails and comments this week strongly recommending against it. Evidently, virgin’s bower plays nicely on prairies and savanna edges, but goes berserk when planted in some home gardens. Espie Nelson, one of my favorite prairie experts (and long time steward with her husband, Don) wrote to me saying one of her native virgin’s bower vines had taken over a 15 foot area in her yard. She plans on totally eliminating it this season. Another reader, Mary, told me virgin’s bower is a “thug.” She had to pull it out when it invaded a neighbor’s yard.
As Espie wisely wrote me, “Don’t trade one exotic plant for a native plant that has the same vigorous growth patterns.” Good advice. I’ll enjoy virgin’s bower in my favorite natural areas, and not in my yard. Looks like I’ll invest in more non-vining natives, instead.
Blazing star (Liatris aspera) with a common eastern bumblebee (Bombus impatiens), Crosby’s front yard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Meanwhile, another reason for dining on the back porch—besides watching moonflowers—is migration. Monarchs are moving through, although my backyard has only attracted them one at a time. Jeff and I saw a small swarm of common green darner dragonflies massing over the backyard this weekend, doubtlessly headed south. Cornell University said it also expected us to see “massive” bird movement this past weekend, with an estimated 316 million to 400-plus million migrating birds moving through each night across the United States. If I sat on the patio and squinted against the bright blue sky, I could make out a few birds high up, moving south.
Courtesy Cornell Lab of Ornithology’s Facebook Page, 9-9-22.
I filled the feeders, and crossed my fingers. But, the backyard seemed to only harbor the usual suspects; goldfinches pulling out cup plant and hyssop seeds for their supper, and a few hummingbirds browsing the zinnias….
Hummingbirds seem to be everywhere right now, passing through my backyard on their way to Mexico and Panama. Can you find the one in my next-door neighbor’s oak tree? It’s scoping out the competition at my nectar feeders.
Ruby-throated hummingbird (Archilochus colubris) having a “where’s Waldo” moment in the neighbor’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Hummingbirds arrive around the end of April in Chicago’s western suburbs and vanish by mid-October. I’ll miss their whizz-whirr of wings and their tiny chirps when they’re gone.
We’ll have to enjoy other backyard wildlife. Chipmunks, perhaps. They’ve set up house under the patio, and play tag across the patio as I drink my coffee in the mornings. And the squirrels, busy burying their nuts in the lawn.
Eastern fox squirrel (Sciurus niger), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Yep. We won’t lack for squirrels. Too bad ours are so camera shy.
Eastern fox squirrel (Sciurus niger), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
We’ve learned not to leave breakfast on the patio table unattended. Ahem.
Speaking of food. In last week’s post, I mentioned something about the tomatoes “slowing production.” The garden must have been listening. Although the tomatoes are indeed slowing down, and Jeff pulled some of the plants that won’t set anymore ripe fruit before frost, the pole beans are pumping out Kentucky Wonders at a steady rate. There’s also plethora of sweet peppers that needed picked…
Giant marconi sweet peppers (Capsicum annuum)—-these were all on two plants in one picking. Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
…and the thornless ichiban and prickly black beauty eggplants are in overdrive. This summer, I planted two plants on my south wall of the porch, with concrete at their feet. It’s the hottest spot in the garden.
Black beauty eggplant (Solanum melongena‘Black Beauty’) foreground) and ichiban eggplant (Solanum melongena ‘Ichiban’ right), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
I’ve picked almost a dozen in the past week, which is more eggplant than I know what to do with. After giving some away, I tried making the Mediterranean dip baba ganoush for the first time. Loosely following a recipe from Cookie & Kate, I cut the eggplants in half, brushed them with olive oil, then roasted them at 450 degrees Fahrenheit for 45 minutes. When they cooled, I scooped out and strained the insides, then mixed the goop with tahini (a sesame seed paste), fresh garlic and parsley from the garden, a little cumin, and lemon juice. Yum! It’s now my favorite way to eat eggplant. And it uses up a lot!
Baba Ganoush and Stonefire Naan rounds.
As I walk around the garden and prairie, I’m aware of the lowering slant of the sun, the cooling temps. Monarchs and dragonflies heading south. Prairie wildflowers and grasses going to seed.
Wild quinine (Parthenium integrifolium), Crosby’s front yard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
September is a dynamic month, exploding with color and change. I’m glad I’ve got a front row seat, here in my backyard prairie and garden.
*******
Words from Kansas poet Frederick J. Atwood’s poem “The Breaking of the Drought” (1902, Kansas Rhymes and Other Lyrics) open the blog today. This short poem continues: The thirsty ground drinks eagerly; As a famished man eats bread; The moan of the trees is hushed; And the violets under the banks; Lift up their heads so gratefully; And smilingly give thanks. Thanks to Kansas on the Net for republishing the poem.
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Join Cindy for a Program or Class this Autumn!
Monday, September 19 –-A Brief History of Trees in America, Downers Grove Garden Club, Downers Grove, IL. In-person, free and open to the public, but please visit here for details and Covid protocol.
Saturday, September 24 —In-Person Writing and Art Retreat at The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL, Spend a day immersed in nature with guided writing and art workshops. Set aside time to disconnect from the day-to-day and focus on the natural world through writing and art. Sessions will explore nature journaling, sketching, developing observation skills, and tapping into your creativity. Throughout the day, you will learn from professional writers and artists, take in the sites of the Arboretum, and explore nature with fellow creatives. Appropriate for all levels. Cindy will be teaching the morning sessions. Click here for more information, Covid protocol, and to register (only a few spaces left!).
“Why are wildflowers so important to us who care for flowers? …to encounter them in their natural habitat is an extraordinary aesthetic pleasure… .” — Katharine S. White
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Hello, June! I can’t wait to see what you have in store.
In my backyard this week, an eastern blue jay has commandeered the peanut feeder. Jays tend to be, well, a little possessive, so the other songbirds aren’t as delighted as we are about this. The striking sapphire and cerulean blue feathers bring Jeff and me to the kitchen window to watch it, every time.
Eastern blue jay (Cyanocitta cristata), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
It’s interesting to note that the “blues” we see are actually brown. The Cornell Lab tells me the brown pigment in the feathers, called melanin, look blue because of “light scattering” (read more here). Who knew? Evidently, the “blue” we see in other birds such as indigo buntings and bluebirds is also an optical illusion. Cool!
I remember when the Corvids were nearly wiped out by West Nile Virus almost two decades ago—and you didn’t see a jay or a crow anywhere. Now, when I hear a blue jay calling from the trees or see one at the backyard feeder I feel my spirits lift. It’s a story with a happy ending. We could use more of those.
Out on the prairie, a field sparrow sways on a new white wild indigo spear, singing its accelerating series of notes. I have trouble telling sparrows apart, so hearing the song always helps.
Field sparrow (Spizella pusilla) on white wild indigo (Baptisia alba), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
Deep in the grasses I spy my first calico pennant dragonfly of the season. I don’t like to say I have favorites, but… how could I not?
I discover another little critter strolling through the prairie phlox blossoms. Can you find it?
Prairie phlox (Phlox pilosa) with a critter, possibly the obscure plant bug (Plagiognathus obscurus), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.
And nearby, a carolina saddlebags dragonfly perches on an old plant stalk, soaking up sunlight. We don’t see many of this species here, so it’s always a treat.
Carolina saddlebags dragonfly (Tramea carolina), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.
Compass plant leaves, backlit by the sun, are a reminder of their towering flowers which will dominate the prairie in July.
Many of the first spring wildflowers are focused on setting seed. Wood betony’s tall stalks remind me of corn on the cob with the kernels gnawed off.
Wood betony (Pendicularis canadensis), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL. Plus a tiny ant!Species unknown.
Nearby in the savanna, the snakeroot hums with more insect activity.
Common black snakeroot (Sanicula odorata) with one of the mining bees (Andrena sp.), Schulenberg Prairie Savanna, Lisle, IL.
Nearby a pasture rose opens, flushed with pink.
Pasture rose (Rosa carolina), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.
What a pleasure it is to hike the prairie in early June!
Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.
Why not go see?
*****
The opening quote is from Katharine S. White (1892-1977) from her only book, Onward and Upward in the Garden. White began working at The New Yorker in 1925, where she served as editor for 34 years. She shaped the magazine in a way that is still felt today.She married E.B. White, a writer at the magazine, who wrote many books including Stuart Little and Charlotte’s Web; he was also the co-author of Elements of Style. Katharine’s book includes some lively critique of 1950’s seed and garden catalogs–fun reading.
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Join Cindy for a Program or Event
Tuesday, June 7, 7-8:30 p.m.:The Garden’s Frequent Fliers: Dragonflies and Damselflies, Crestwood Garden Club, Elmhurst, IL. (Closed in-person event for members; to become a member visit them here ).
Wednesday, June 8, 7-8:30 p.m.Lawn Chair Lecture: The Schulenberg Prairie’s 60th Anniversary. The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL. Bring your lawn chair and enjoy sunset on the prairie as you hear about the people, plants, and creatures that have made this prairie such a treasure. Tickets are limited: Register here. (Note: This event may be moved inside if inclement weather makes it advisable; participants will be notified).
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If you love the natural world, consider helping “Save Bell Bowl Prairie.” Read more here about simple actions you can take to keep this important Midwestern prairie remnant from being destroyed by a cargo road. Thank you for caring for our Midwestern “landscape of home”!
“Snow in April is abominable, like a slap in the face when you expect a kiss.” –Lucy Maud Montgomery
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It’s been a delightful week, full of adventures. A few days ago, Jeff and I found ourselves in Glenview, IL, to give a talk on prairie ethnobotany for the wonderful Glenview Gardeners and the Glenview Library. We arrived early to go for a hike on the Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie.
Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.
Beautiful interpretive signs connect visitors with the 32-acre remnant prairie and its community, and the more than 160 species of plants, including the Eastern Prairie Fringed Orchid (Platanthera leucophaea).
Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.
It’s a favorite hotspot for birders; a little oasis in the middle of Glenview.
Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.
As I paused to sniff a wild bergamot seed head, still fragrant with mint, joy took me by surprise.
Wild bergmot (Monarda fistulosa), Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.
Sometimes, in the midst of development and growing populations, prairie is recognized as the treasure it is. Kent Fuller Air Force Prairie is proof that prairies and development can co-exist. We can recognize our tallgrass heritage in Illinois, and make a place for prairie in Chicago’s growing suburbs.
View from the pavilion, Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.
On such a gloomy, chilly day—seeing what has been accomplished here—I felt hopeful for the future.
******
Sunday evening, I checked the forecast before I nodded off to sleep.
Forecast April 17, 2022.
Surely nothing will stick.
But when I looked out my bedroom window Monday morning…
A dusting of snow.
Rattlesnake master—that early pioneer of the garden and just-burned prairies—stoically took it in stride.
Prairie dropseed (Sporobolus heterolepis) with spring bulbs, Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
…seemed to thrive amid this unexpected turn of weather. It’s only a little snow. What’s the big deal? I could almost hear the plants scolding me for pouting. As I type this on Monday evening, more snow is falling. I’m tempted to complain with the poet T.S. Eliot that “April is the cruelest month,” but I’m going enjoy this twist of temperatures. One of the joys of living in the Midwest is the weather. Always a few surprises. I like that. Mostly.
Never a dull moment on the prairies.
******
The opening quote is from fictional character Anne Shirley, from the series “Anne of Green Gables,” written by Lucy Maud Montgomery (1874-1942).
April 25, 9:30-11am The Tallgrass Prairie: Grocery Store, Apothecary, and Love Charm Shop with Country Home and Garden Club, Barrington, IL (In person). Closed event. For more information on the garden club click here.
Join Cindy for one, two, or three Spring Wildflower Walks at The Morton Arboretum! Learn some of the stories behind these fascinating spring flowers. April 22 (woodland, sold out), April 28 (woodland) and May 6 (prairie, one spot open) (9-11 a.m.). In person. Register here.
“April outdoes all our effort to keep up with it.”—Niall Williams
*****
What’s that, you say? It’s snowing?
Don’t put away those gloves and scarves yet. It’s April in the Midwest, and snow is part of the spring package. As Tom Jones sings, “It’s not unusual… .” The local newspaper tells me the Chicago region received measurable snow in seven of the past ten years in April, with almost eight inches in April 2019 (that blissful year before the pandemic). I’m grateful to see only flurries.
Crosby’s Backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Snow or no snow, April is an exciting month on the tallgrass prairie—especially after a prescribed burn. At first glance you might believe there’s nothing worth seeing. A burned landscape seemingly holds little attraction.
Russell Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
But take a closer look. As Jeff and I found on a recent hike this weekend, there’s plenty to experience.
Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Look closely. What are these, poking through the ashes?
Rattlesnake master (Eryngium yuccifolium), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
And listen. The chorus frogs are singing!
Chorus frogs (Pseudacris illinoensis)at College of DuPage’s Russell R. Kirt Prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Red-winged blackbirds call their oka-leeeeee! Oka-leeeee! Ahead of us, a killdeer dodges and darts through the blackened stubble.
Killdeer (Charadrius vociferus), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
I reacquainted myself with this species recently at All About Birds, a terrific resource from Cornell University. I learned the killdeer is a proficient swimmer. What????
Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Jeff reminded me that killdeer are shorebirds. Here in the Midwest, they are some of the first birds to occupy the prairie after it is burned. But, when I think of birds that swim, I don’t think of killdeer. Rather, I think of ducks.
Mallard duck (Anas platyrhynchos), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Mallards barely merit a glance from most folks. I’m convinced if they were rare we’d be ooohing and aaahhing over how beautiful they are. Look at those colors! Even on a gloomy day, the mallards brighten up the view.
Also lovely—but much despised — are the brown-headed cowbirds scattered across the prairie.
Brown-headed cowbird (Molothrus ater), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Back to Cornell’s All About Birds. I learn that instead of building a nest, the cowbird channels its energy into egg production and lays dozens of eggs over the season. These are deposited in other bird species’ nests. The cowbird progeny are then raised by these foster parent songbirds. Cornell calls cowbirds “brood parasites.” Many birders despise cowbirds as they are often responsible for destroying the eggs and young of some endangered species. But I can’t help but admire their striking colors as they pick their way across the prairie and chirp their “Clink! Clink! Clink!” song.
Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
A hike on a blackened prairie is a reminder that the prairie is full of nuance. It’s not a drive-by landscape. Rather, it’s a place you need to spend time with. Get on your knees and look —- really look. Pay attention with all of your five senses. Can you still smell the smoke? What plants are completely gone? What areas were missed by the fire?
Cup plants (Silphium perfoliatum), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
A burned prairie is also a reminder that there is hope after devastation. At different points in my life when everything seemed laid waste, the cycle of the prairie reminded me that with time, there was the possibility of change.
Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
As Jeff and I hike the prairie perimeter, we find evidence of more bird activity.
Unknown egg, Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
I wonder who laid this now smashed egg? A Canada goose, maybe? The egg color and size looks right. There are plenty of Canada geese patrolling the borders of the prairie so it’s a reasonable hypothesis.
Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
As I look for more eggs, I spy this.
Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
After a prescribed burn, finding golf balls is inevitable, no matter which prairie you visit. I guess it is all—ahem—-par for the course when you hike the tallgrass prairie after a prescribed fire in April.
Why not go see?
*****
The opening quote is from Niall Williams (1958-) , who with his partner Christine Breen wrote In Kiltumper: A Year in an Irish Garden.If you like books that follow the gardening year, month by month, this is a good one to investigate.
Tuesday, April 12, 7-8:30 p.m. The Tallgrass Prairie: Grocery Store, Apothecary, and Love Charm Shop at Glenview Public Library, Glenview, IL. Open to the public (in person). Click here for details.
Wednesday, April 13, 7-8 p.m. Add a Little Prairie to Your Garden for Glencoe Public Library and Friends of the Green Bay Trail. Online only, and open to the public. Register here.
April 25, 9:30-11am The Tallgrass Prairie: Grocery Store, Apothecary, and Love Charm Shop with Country Home and Garden Club, Barrington, IL (In person). Closed event. For more information on the garden club click here.
Join Cindy for one, two, or three Spring Wildflower Walks at The Morton Arboretum! Learn some of the stories behind these spring flowers. April 22 (woodland, sold out), April 28 (woodland) and May 6 (prairie, one spot open) (9-11 a.m.). In person. Register here.
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The weather information in this blog post was taken from The Daily Herald, Sunday, April 3, 2022 written by Susan Sarkauskas, “Snow Flurries? In April?”
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Calling All Poets!April 1-April 30th-–Check out this exciting project YOU can contribute to!
DuPage Monarch Project invites you to participate in Poets for Pollinators, a month-long celebration of nature’s wonders through poetry. Poems featuring bees, butterflies, birds and all pollinating creatures, as well as ones expressing the joy, comfort and delight found in nature will be posted on DuPage Monarch Project’s Facebook page April 1st – April 30th. New and experienced poets of all ages are welcome; this celebration is open to everyone. Multiple entries will be accepted. Please send poems to Lonnie Morris at dupagemonarchs@gmail.com. Poems may be pasted into the email or included as an attachment. Authorship will be given unless anonymity is requested. Formatting in Facebook is challenging but we will make every attempt to present the poem as you have written it. Original photos are welcome. If you don’t have a photo of a favorite pollinator, one will be selected from the DMP photo library. If photos are sent, please include the name of the person who took the photo. By submitting a poem, you are granting DuPage Monarch Project the right to share it on the DuPage Monarch Project Facebook page. The poem will not be shared, used or included in any other manner than the Facebook post during the month of April.
Cindy Crosby is the author, compiler, or contributor to more than 20 books. Her most recent is "Chasing Dragonflies: A Natural, Cultural, and Personal History" (Northwestern University Press, 2020). She teaches prairie ecology, nature writing, and natural history classes, and is a prairie steward who has volunteered countless hours in prairie restoration. See Cindy's upcoming online speaking events and classes at www.cindycrosby.com.
Tuesdays in the Tallgrass 