“Of all the seasons, autumn offers the most…and requires the least… .”– Hal Borland
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I hear them before I see them.
The first wave of Sandhill Cranes (Antigone canadensis) I’ve seen this autumn over Glen Ellyn, IL.
Jeff and I are out for a neighborhood walk when the cries stop us in our tracks. Sandhill cranes! It’s the first wave we’ve seen of the many cranes yet to come, moving in their cursive migratory swirls south. We stand on the sidewalk, looking into the bright sky and shielding our eyes against the sun, until they are out of sight.
Sandhill Cranes (Antigone canadensis) flying through sun halo, Glen Ellyn, IL. (2016).
Seeing the cranes is a sign of seasonal transition here in the Chicago region. It’s still autumn by the calendar and also, by the gorgeous weather we’ve had lately. This week we’ll hit 64 degrees! And the endless sunshine makes it seem even warmer. But the cranes remind me that winter is whispering in the wings.
Other signs remind me as well.
Crosby’s yard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Pulling the tomato cages out of the vegetable garden and stacking them in the shed. Digging the dahlia tubers—a gift from a friend this spring—and storing them for the winter. Pressing garlic cloves into the cold, wet earth of a raised garden bed for harvest next July. Collecting the swamp milkweed, rough blazing star, and other seeds from my prairie plantings.
Rough Blazing Star (Liatris aspera), Crosby’s front yard prairie planting, Glen Ellyn, IL.
And still autumn lingers. Dawdling. Lollygagging. The world doesn’t seem quite ready for winter, yet, does it?
Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.
How about you? Are you ready for it?
Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.
I may be rushing the seasonal transition a bit by putting out the pumpkins for the squirrels.
Eastern Fox Squirrel (Sciurus niger), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
I strip the autumnal decorations from the house and porch; swap them out for boxes of Christmas lights and pre-lit reindeer. And yet… .
Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.
Autumn leaves and fall color keep hanging on. Each day, Jeff and I tell each other we need to go for a walk to see the last remaining fall color. “It will be gone soon. Let’s enjoy it now.”
But autumn’s delights just keep on coming.
Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.
I love rambling around in the November sunshine, the crisp wind blowing leaves off the trees into gold and scarlet confetti.
Northern Red Oak (Quercus rubus), Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove,IL.
As I hike, I see starlings wheel in impossible murmurations across the sky.
Starling (Sturnus vulgaris), Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL (3/23).
Occasionally, the whole chattering flock lands to feed on something delicious, like the wild plums, or the fruits of the terribly invasive Callery Pear, sometimes called Bradford Pear, which still pops up in natural areas despite our stewardship efforts. Some believe starlings are one of the primary seed dispensers of this tree. Can you find the starling in this one?
Starling (Sturnus vulgaris) in the invasive Callery Pear tree (Pyrus Calleryana), Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.
Some of the grasses, now rainbowed in autumnal hues, will soon be bleached in the cold to come.
Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.
Look! I tell myself. Soak up this color! Stay in the moment!
Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.
But, being a planner and long list-maker, I think ahead to colder weather. The holidays. Travel. Snow.
Snowfall on Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL. (1/23)
When I ask my friends how they feel about winter, the reactions are mixed. Some older friends dread it, and “snowbird” to warmer places, such as Arizona or Florida. Some of my prairie steward friends exult in winter, with its lack of insects, brisk days where you don’t sweat so much, and myriad opportunities for brush cutting. My grandchildren love the holidays, and opportunities for sledding, skiing, and hot chocolate.
Native plants gone to seed, Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.
Others embrace each day as it comes. Tranquil. Accepting.
Mallard duck (Anas platyrhynchos), Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.
I want to be more like that. And, I think I’d miss winter in the Midwest, should I find myself living elsewhere. The transition of the seasons feels like a restart. A refresh. A chance to look at the past few months and see what’s been accomplished, and what has been neglected. An opportunity to make a new list of possibilities. To let go of some things that haven’t worked out and dream about what might lie ahead.
Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.
Meteorological winter begins Dec. 1, only a few weeks away. Astronomical winter isn’t until Dec. 21. I’m looking forward to the new season. But for now, I’m soaking up every unexpectedly gorgeous November day as it comes.
Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.
Why not go outside right now and take a look? Let me know what you see, and how you feel about the coming winter.
It’s on the way.
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Hal Borland (1900-1978) was a naturalist and staff writer for The New York Times. I have several of his books on my bookshelf, most of them gifts from a lovely reader of this blog (Thank you, Helen!). Several of them are the “through the year” type of format with daily readings, which is a lovely way to follow the seasons. In addition to his journalistic pieces and essays, he wrote poetry, fiction, and short stories. Borland won the John Burroughs Distinguished Medal for Nature Writing in 1968 for Hill Country Harvest.
*****
Join Cindy for a Class or Program at the End of 2023!
11/15 –7-8:30 p.m.: “A Brief History of Trees in America” hosted by the Downers Grove Organic Garden Club. Free and open to the public! For more information, click here.
12/1 — 10-11:30 a.m.: “Bison Tales and Tallgrass Trails” at the Morton Arboretum’s beautiful Sterling Morton Library in Lisle, IL. (Please note!: Last week, The Morton Arboretum opened up a larger room for this sold-out program! — registration is still limited, however. To register, click here.)
12/12– 6:45-8 p.m.: “Winter Prairie Wonders” hosted by the Buffalo Grove Garden Club. Free and open to the public! For more information, click here.
“It is a prairie’s gentle deceit that you think you see everything there is in a sweeping glance, when in fact you see very little at all, even if you spend a lifetime looking.”—Scott Weidensaul
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So many prairies. So little time.
Harlem Hills Prairie Nature Preserve, Loves Park, IL.
That’s my thought as we pull up to Harlem Hills Prairie Nature Preserve in Loves Park, IL, on the outskirts of Rockford in Winnebago County. I’ve wanted to come here for years. Today is finally the day. It’s tough to locate it on a map, but we find directions online and follow the appropriately-named “Flora Drive” through a subdivision. And….there it is.
Harlem Hills Prairie Nature Preserve, Loves Park, IL.
We pull onto the grass along the road and Jeff finds an opening in the fence. Hikers are welcome, the sign says, but we are the only humans braving the chilly wind and looming rain.
Harlem Hills Prairie Nature Preserve, Loves Park, IL.
This is one of Illinois last gravel prairie remnants, dedicated in 1973. I feel a little solemn, hiking here, knowing so many of these prairies have been destroyed.
October at Harlem Hills Prairie Nature Preserve, Loves Park, IL.
If you’ve followed Tuesdays in the Tallgrass for a while, you’ll remember we lost Bell Bowl Prairie, another of our last remaining gravel prairies, just a hop-skip-and-a-jump away at the Chicago-Rockford International Airport, where the prairie was bulldozed to make way for a road. Yes, you heard that right. To walk the more than 90 acres here at Harlem Hills is to grieve anew for the loss of these precious remnants like Bell Bowl in our “Prairie State.”
Harlem Hills Prairie Nature Preserve, Harlem Hills, IL.
Illinois DNR tells us that there are threatened and endangered plants at Harlem Hills, and many beautiful and diverse prairie wildflowers. They include downy painted cup, Hill’s thistle, pink milkwort, and the prairie buttercup. We’re too late in the season for these wildflowers, but we do see some old favorites. Pale purple coneflower gone to seed.
Pale purple coneflower (Echinacea pallida), Harlem Hills Prairie Nature Preserve, Loves Park, IL.
Prairie bush clover.
Prairie bush clover (Lespedeza leptostachya), Harlem Hills Prairie Nature Preserve, Loves Park, IL.
Had we visited in spring, we’d likely have seen pasque flowers, a favorite wildflower of mine that we’re working to re-establish on the prairie where I’m a steward. But there are plenty of other wonderful wildflowers and native plants gone to seed here to keep us intrigued for hours, if we had that much time. Thimbleweed.
What an incredible prairie, full of diversity and sweeping vistas.
Harlem Hills Prairie Nature Preserve, Loves Park, IL.
A storm rolls in and it’s time to go.
Harlem Hills Prairie Nature Preserve, Loves Park, IL.
We’ll be back in the spring for the pasque flowers.
******
From Harlem Hills Prairie, we turn our car north to Madison, WI, where crowds are headed to a University of Wisconsin-Madison. Turns out there is a home football game the next day. Fortunately, when we turn into the very small parking lot for Greene Prairie, there’s only one other vehicle. The gate is partially open.
Grady Tract and Trail to Greene Prairie, Madison, WI.
Let’s go! The sky begins to drizzle on and off as we follow the trail through the Grady Tract, a beautiful oak savanna preserve…
Trail through the Grady Tract to Greene Prairie, Madison, WI.
…with wildflowers…
Great purple hyssop (Agastache scrophulariifolia) in seed, Grady Tract, Madison, WI.
…and more autumn wildflowers….
Pale indian plantain (Arnoglossum atriplicifolium), trail to Greene Prairie, Grady Tract, Madison, WI.
The 50-acre Greene Prairie, which Henry Greene began planting in 1943, is thought to be the second-oldest institutionally planted tallgrass prairie in the world. Most of the trails into the prairie are still closed, as they were when I visited here alone one spring, years ago.
Greene Prairie, Madison, WI.
From the trail overlooking the tallgrass, the sweeps of autumn color hint at the diversity within.
They don’t seem worried about us; I imagine they see plenty of hikers and joggers. They seem happy about the plentiful acorns marbling the trails and making treacherous footing for us humans.
It’s tough to get lost here, as the sound of cars on the Beltline Highway helps orient us back to the parking lot. Rain has begun again. But we have one more stop to make today. Jeff and I hop in the car, cross the highway, and find our way to the entrance of the University of Wisconsin-Madison Arboretum, where our third prairie is waiting.
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Planted in 1936, Curtis Prairie is thought to be the oldest restored-planted tallgrass prairie in the world, sometimes called the “Birthplace of Restoration Ecology.”
Curtis Prairie, Madison, WI.
Not surprisingly, Aldo Leopold (author of A Sand County Almanac), who taught at University of Wisconsin from 1933-48, gets credit for the idea to establish prairie in what was an old horse field.
Curtis Prairie, Madison, WI.
Jeff and have visited Curtis Prairie several times: in the winter, the spring, and now, the autumn. Each visit to these more than 70 acres of planted prairie is a new experience.
Curtis Prairie, Madison, WI.
Rainclouds cover the sky as we start down a familiar trail.
Curtis Prairie, Madison, WI.
Our first prairie encounter is a spiky black insect crossing the grass, which iNaturalist tells us is the giant leopard moth caterpillar. We admire it for a bit, and look online to see an image of the adult moth. It’s pretty stunning.
Maybe the white-crowned sparrow? (Zonotrichia leucophrys), Curtis Prairie, Madison, WI.
Those tricky sparrows! Always a conundrum. Looming over our birding efforts on the Curtis Prairie is the conference center, where my Wisconsin Dragonfly Society symposium takes place the following day. I’m excited to attend with a few of my friends from Nachusa Grasslands, who also work with dragonflies.
Curtis Prairie, Madison, WI.
Although we’d like to hike farther, it’s getting dark. I cover my camera to protect it from a few fat raindrops and we start for the car. What a day it has been!
Curtis Prairie, Madison, WI.
Three prairies. Three different adventures.
Common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca), Curtis Prairie, Madison, WI.
All pure prairie magic.
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Scott Weidensaul (1959-), whose quote opens this post, is a writer and author of many books on birding, including the Pulitzer Prize in Literature finalist, Living on the Wind: Across the Hemisphere with Migratory Birds (1999). He is actively involved in field research and directs ornithological programs at Hog Island Center on the Maine coast.
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Join Cindy for a program or class in 2023!
10/10 –1-2:30 p.m.:“The Tallgrass Prairie: Grocery Store, Apothecary, and Love Charm Shop. Hosted by Gardens, Etc. in Wheaton, IL (Closed event for members).
10/19– 10:30pm-noon: “Literary Gardens.” Hosted by the Garden Club of Iverness, Palatine, IL. Free and open to the public! For more information, click here.
11/1 — 11am-12:30 pm: “Winter Prairie Wonders” hosted by Town and Country Gardeners in Libertyville, IL. (Closed event for members). To learn more about the club, click here.
11/6 — 11am-12:30pm: “Dragonflies and Damselflies” hosted by Elmhurst Garden Club (Closed event for members). To learn how to join the garden club, click here.
11/10 –1-2:30pm: “A Brief History of Trees in America” hosted by Lombard Garden Club. Free and open to the public! For more information, click here.
11/15 –7-8:30 p.m.: “A Brief History of Trees in America” hosted by the Downers Grove Organic Garden Club. Free and open to the public! For more information, click here.
12/12 –6:45-8 p.m.: “Winter Prairie Wonders” hosted by the Buffalo Grove Garden Club. Free and open to the public! For more information, click here.
New program Dec. 1, 10-11:30 a.m. — “Bison Tales and Tallgrass Trails” at The Morton Arboretum’s Sterling Library in Lisle, IL. Registration is limited — click here for more information. Only six spots left!
***** A note to readers: Jeff and I are celebrating our 40th anniversary by visiting 40 natural areas over the summer and fall. Please let us know where you think we should head to next. Only two more to go! Thanks to everyone who has sent ideas. So far, we’ve enjoyed visitingthe following places: Kayaking at #1 Rock Cut State Park (Rockford, IL); hiking at #2 James “Pate” Philip State Park (Bartlett, IL); #3 Potato Creek State Park (North Liberty, IN); #4 Indiana Dunes State Park (Porter County, IN); #5 Indiana Dunes National Park (Beverly Shores, IN); kayaking Silver Lake at #6 Blackwell Forest Preserve (Wheaton/Warrenville, IL); hiking #7 Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve (Downers Grove, IL), #8 Winfield Mounds Forest Preserve (Winfield, IL), #9 Bluff Spring Fen (Elgin, IL), #10 Herrick Lake Forest Preserve (Wheaton, IL); Jeff’s family reunion at#11 Hawthorn Park (Terre Haute, IN); hiking #12 Turkey Run State Park, Marshall, IN) and at #13 Shades State Park, Waveland, IN;hiking and bison viewing at #14 Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN; hiking at #15 Hidden Lake Forest Preserve (Downers Grove, IL), #16 Peck Farm Park (Geneva, IL), #17 Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum (Lisle, IL); #18 Busse Woods Forest Preserve, Elk Grove, IL; #19Nachusa Grasslands (Franklin Grove,IL); reading in a swing along the Rock River at #20 Lowell Park (Dixon, IL); cabin overnight and hiking at #21 White Pines State Park (Mt. Morris, IL); hiking to the overlook at #22 Castle Rock State Park (Oregon, IL); enjoying the views at a prairie remnant gem #23 Beach Cemetery Prairie (Ogle County, IL); #24 Springbrook Prairie (Naperville, IL); watching eagles and hiking at #25 Starved Rock State Park (Oglesby, IL); watching the dragonfly migration at #26 Matthiessen State Park (Oglesby, IL); river overlook at #27 Buffalo Rock State Park (Ottawa, IL); #28 monarch and dragonfly migration at Wolf Road Prairie (Westchester, IL); and hiking #29 Russell R. Kirt Prairie at College of DuPage (Glen Ellyn, IL); hiking #30 Midewin National Tallgrass Prairie (Wilmington, IL), #31 Fermilab Prairies (Batavia, IL); and #32 Danada Forest Preserve (Wheaton, IL); #33 Fullersburg Woods (Oak Brook, IL); #34 Dick Young Forest Preserve (Batavia, IL); #35 Lyman Woods (Downers Grove, IL); #36 Harlem Hills Prairie Nature Preserve (Loves Park, IL); #37 Greene Prairie (Madison, WI; and #38 Curtis Prairie (Madison, WI) . Thanks to everyone who sent suggestions last week! Two adventures still to come.
“When trying to identify birds it is important to remember the following motto: I don’t know.”—Chris Earley
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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.
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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!
Snow! At last. Bright sparks in what has been a predominantly gray week.
Switchgrass (Panicum virgatum) and Illinois bundleflower (Desmanthus illinoensis), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Snow quilts the Chicago suburbs, softening harsh edges, muffling sound.
Stiff goldenrod (Oligoneuron rigidum), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
It prompts joie de vivre for the holidays.
Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
And where better to hike in the snow than the prairie?
Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Snow dusts crystals on the tallgrass wildflowers, gone to seed…
Rattlesnake master (Eryngium yuccifolium), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
…sifts into milkweed pod seams…
Common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
….makes the unexceptional—astonishing.
Trail through Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Listen! The snow softens sounds in the tallgrass. Even the geese are uncharacteristically silent as they slide across the prairie pond.
Canada geese (Branta canadensis), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
A harsh wind blows the snow into em dashes.
Compass plant (Silphium laciniatum), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
The wind numbs my nose; sends a chill deep into my bones.
Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
I keep hiking.
Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Who knows what the snow has transformed? What else is there to discover? I don’t want to miss a thing.
White wild indigo (Baptisia alba macrophylla), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
The sun has been a stranger this week. But Sunday and Monday, we had a short reprieve. Sunshine! Good sledding weather. I took a turn or two with a few of my grandkids, sliding down our small hill. Later, the day seesawed back and forth from sun back to that familiar silver-plated sky. But the brief hours of bright light were enough to lift our spirits.
Compass plant (Silphium laciniatum), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Wednesday—tomorrow—is the Winter Solstice, also known as the first day of astronomical winter. With the fewest hours of daylight, it’s considered the darkest day of the year.
Gray-headed coneflower (Ratibida pinnata), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
But the light is coming. Each day we’ll see more of it, until these gray days are only a distant memory.
Despite the parade of mostly gloomy days, there is so much beauty all around.
Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Even a short hike like this one today unwraps so many gifts. The gift of quiet. The gift of paying attention. The gift of using our senses to fully enjoy the incredible world around us.
Tall boneset (Eupatorium altissimum) and Illinois bundleflower (Desmanthus illinoensis), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
I want to linger longer.
Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Every step on the snowy prairie rekindles my sense of wonder.
Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
More snow—perhaps more than we might like—is on the way in the Chicago Region. The sort of snow that keeps the weather forecasters happily occupied as they predict the coming blizzard apocalypse. As I type this, the forecast calls for 30 below zero wind chill at the end of the week; plus a foot of white stuff on the way. Time to head to the grocery store and lay in a few supplies.
It’s not just people watching the weather. Sunday, right before dusk, I hear an unmistakeable sound over the house. I look up…and… .
Sandhill cranes! On their way south. Perhaps they’ve sensed the forecast—and are putting as many miles between themselves and the coming snowstorm as possible. I watch them until they disappear over the horizon.
Safe travels, sandhills.
And safe travels to all of you, dear readers, during the Hanukkah and Christmas festivities.
Happy holidays!
*****
The opening quote is from Joy Harjo’s Catching the Light. Harjo (1951-) is our current United States Poet Laureate, and the first Native American to be so. She is also a musician and playwright.
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Join Cindy for a Class or Program this Winter
The Tallgrass Prairie in Popular Culture—Friday, January 20, from 10-11:30 a.m. Explore the role the tallgrass prairie plays in literature, art, music—and more! Enjoy a hot beverage as you discover how Illinois’ “landscape of home” has shaped our culture, both in the past and today. Offered by The Morton Arboretum in Lisle, IL; register here.
Nature Writing Workshop— Four Thursdays (February 2, 9, 16, and 23) from 6-8:30 p.m. Join a community of nature lovers as you develop and nurture your writing skills in person. For more information and to register visit here.
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Illinois Prairie needs you! Visit Save Bell Bowl Prairie to learn about this special place—one of the last remaining gravel prairies in our state —and to find out what you can do to help.
“To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee… .”–Emily Dickinson
*****
The prairie thumbs through September’s pages, already more than halfway through this 2021 chapter. The month is going so quickly! Blink, and you miss something—a wildflower blooming, a redstart heading south. Every trail has a surprise.
Nachusa Grasslands in September, Franklin Grove, IL.
But—where is the rain? Take a step, and it’s like walking on Rice Krispies cereal: Snap! Crackle! Pop!
Rocky knoll at Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
And yet. So much happens in September, rain or no rain. I don’t want to miss a moment. It’s the reason that I drink my coffee on the back porch this month, listening to the cries of the Cooper’s hawk stalking the bird feeders. Or sprawl in the backyard hammock, watching the sky for migrating birds and dragonflies silhouetted against the clouds. It’s why I stroll through the garden, hike the prairie trails. I want to see what shows up.
iNaturalist tells me this is the fork-tailed bush katydid (Scudderia furcata), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
Indoors, I think about the outdoors. What’s happening that I’m missing? Is it a migrating warbler, or a lone red saddlebags dragonfly that has a tendency to show up in my yard at this time each year? Or even something as simple as the slant of light on the prairie, percolating through the haze across the grasses and goldenrod?
The Schulenberg Prairie in September, Lisle, IL.
In the garden, I find half-eaten tomatoes on the porch; a relic of a chipmunk’s breakfast. It’s okay. We’ve had a surfeit of Sungolds, and Sweet Millions—it’s difficult to grudge the wildlife a few. Zucchini pumps out green cylinders; I’ve run out of recipes as squash turns to baseball bat-sized vegetables overnight.
Monarchs drift over my backyard. I see them everywhere on the prairie as well, about one every five minutes, pausing to sip from the blazing star…
Monarch butterfly (Danaus plexippus) on blazing star (Liatris aspera), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
… and nectar at the sunflowers.
Monarch (Danaus plexippus) on sawtooth sunflower (Helianthus grosseserratus), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
Not all the butterflies choose wildflowers. These viceroys prefer scat.
Viceroy butterflies (Limenitis archippus) on scat, Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
What? Yes, you heard me right. They enjoy a heapin’ helpin’ of amino acids and salts from ….er, dung…that they can’t get from plants. Sometimes they “puddle” on minerals and salts in the soil, like this puddle club of eastern-tailed blues.
Eastern tailed-blue butterflies (Cupido comyntas), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
I hike the trails, touching the sandpaper-rough compass plant leaves, inhaling prairie dropseed’s hot buttered popcorn fragrance. The scent follows me home on on my clothes, as if I’ve been in a movie theater. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Everything is so dry. Dust and grasshoppers spray up as I step on the parched ground. So many grasshoppers!
Red-legged grasshopper (Melanoplus femurrubrum) on sawtooth sunflower (Helianthus grosseserratus), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
Chinese mantis turn up in unexpected places, on the look-out for prey. I admire their stealth.
Chinese mantis (Tenodera sinensis), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
This lucky eastern forktail damselfly enjoys a mid-morning snack. You can tell she’s a mature female by her powdery-blue coloration.
Eastern forktail female damselfly (Ischnura verticalis), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
Only a few steps away, an autumn meadowhawk dragonfly basks in the morning sun. The meadowhawks have been few this season, and I’m not sure why. Not enough rain, maybe? Whatever the reasons, I’ve missed them.
Autumn meadowhawk dragonfly (Sympetrum vicinum), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
Grasshopper. Mantis. Damselfly. Dragonfly. Any of these might be lunch for the northern leopard frog, which is looking for its next meal.
Northern leopard frog (Lithobates pipiens), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
September is a month of eat-or-be-eaten in the tallgrass. Although I’d love to take off on a wind current like a monarch, bound for the south; or spring-jump like a grasshopper into the little bluestem, I’m grateful to be human. Insects see the prairie from a much different perspective than I do.
Alongside all the tension of who will eat who, is the continuing jazz festival of fall gentians. I memorize their deep blue, knowing they are a fleeting pleasure that will be gone all too soon.
There are stories here to be read. To listen to these stories, I have to show up. To be there. As the writer Annie Dillard tells us, it’s the least we can do.
Big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.
What about you?
Will you be there?
*****
I’ve always enjoyed the opening quote for this week’s blog, from the poet, Emily Dickinson (1830-1886). I use the poem in its entirety at the start of a chapter in The Tallgrass Prairie: An Introductionon “What is a Tallgrass Prairie?” However, as a prairie steward, I would have loved to have sat down with Emily in her room in Amherst and ask her a few followup questions. When she said “clover,” just what clover species was she referring to? Dalea candida? Or, Melilotus officinalis ? Ditto on the bees. Honey or native? And Emily—have you ever seen a tallgrass prairie? Or did you write your poem from the accounts you read from others, in the reclusive solitude of your room? Read her complete poem here. It’s an easy one to memorize, and one that will stick with you as you hike the prairie. Regardless of that “clover” species.
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Join Cindy for a program or class!
IN PERSON September 27, 7-8:30 p.m.–-“The Tallgrass Prairie: Illinois Original Garden” Arlington Heights Garden Club. Please visit the club’s website here for guest information, event updates pending Covid positivity in Illinois, and Covid protocol.
ONLINE –Nature Writing Workshop 2 (through the Morton Arboretum): Deepen your connection to nature and improve your writing skills in this online guided workshop from The Morton Arboretum. This interactive class is the next step for those who’ve completed the Foundations of Nature Writing (N095), or for those with some foundational writing experience looking to further their expertise within a supportive community of fellow nature writers. Please note: This is a “live” workshop; no curriculum. For details and registration, click here. Online access for introductions and discussion boards opens October 12; live sessions on Zoom are four Tuesdays: October 19, October 26, November 2, and November 9, 6:30-8:30 pm.
For more classes and programs, visit Cindy’s website at http://www.cindycrosby.com. Hope to see you soon!
“Let all thy joys be as the month of May”—Francis Quarles
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Is there a more beautiful time in the Midwest than mid-May?
It’s been a week for the birds. Migrating birds, that is. In the woods, the great crested flycatcher calls. Such a distinctive voice!
Great crested flycatcher (Myiarchus crinitus), Norris Woods Nature Preserve, St. Charles, IL.
I’ve read that the great crested flycatcher weaves unusual items into its nest: snakeskin, cellophane, plastic wrappers. Wouldn’t I love to spot one of those nests! This is the first great crested flycatcher I’ve ever seen. How did I miss it all these years? Likely I was busy looking down, not up: at the wildflowers.
Twinleaf (Jeffersonia diphyllagone) with seed capsule, Norris Woods Nature Preserve, St. Charles, IL.
Seeing the flycatcher is one of the wonderful benefits of hiking with knowledgeable birding friends. If I had been hiking alone, I would have been looking at wildflowers, and likely missed it.
Probably white baneberry or doll’s eyes (Actaea pachypoda), Norris Woods Nature Preserve, St. Charles, IL.
In his poem The May Magnificant, Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote: “Question: What is Spring–Growth in everything–Flesh and fleece; fur and feather; Grass and green world altogether… .” As we hike through the green, green, green woods, we discover a single, random feather. Our birding friends tell us it may be a young owlet’s. I would love to know how it came to be here along the trail.
Young owlet feather, Norris Woods, St. Charles, IL.
High in a tree, an indigo bunting surprises us. I love Cornell Lab of Ornithology’s description of the bunting; “a scrap of sky with wings.”
Most of the “blues” I see in the bird world belong to the blue jays that stop by my feeder. This past week, there’s been the color orange as well—the Baltimore orioles who love the grape jelly and orange halves we put out for them.
Prairie coreopsis. Great angelica. Prairie smoke. Anise hyssop. So many plants! When I ordered earlier this season, where did I imagine I could put them all? At the end of the day—a lonnnnng planting day—every plant had a seat in the prairie. Now it’s up to them and the weather.
As I turned on the hose to wash the dirt from my hands, I heard the first American toad of the year in our little pond. I turned the water back off to listen. Have you ever heard the American toad? No? You can hear it here. At night, when we crack open our bedroom window for the breeze, the sound can be deafening. In the forest preserve wetlands, lakes, and ponds, the American toad trillllllllll is a warm weather soundtrack for our hikes.
Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Birds! Toads. Plants. Wildflowers. The writer Ellis Peters wrote, “Every spring is a perpetual astonishment.” It’s difficult to know where to look. So much is happening on the prairies and in the woodlands. How can I choose where to hike? And so much is happening, right under my nose, here in my yard!
Near my prairie patch, the pawpaw tree is in bloom. Such an unusual flower color! That brownish-maroon reminds me of wild ginger blooms. For fun, I try to match the flower color to a lipstick shade. The closest I find is “Cherry Cocoa” or maybe, “Love in Maroon.” What do you think?
Pawpaw (Asimina triloba) tree in bloom, Cindy’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Butterflies pass me as I examine the pawpaw flowers. Cabbage white butterflies showed up early this spring, stopping to lay a few eggs on my overwintered kale and kohlrabi. I don’t grudge them a few leaves. Especially since this year’s overwintered crop is a bonus. A gift to share.
Overwintered kale (Brassica oleracea, Acephala group) and kohlrabi (Brassica oleracea, Gongylodes group) going to seed, Cindy’s garden, Glen Ellyn, IL.
I saw my first tiger swallowtail last week, and a few friends have reported monarchs. Pearl crescent butterflies pass through the prairies and savannas, taking a moment to pause and let me admire their bright colors. They’re a common sight, and will continue to be throughout the summer. But no less delightful, for being so ubiquitous.
Pearl crescent butterfly (Phyciodes tharos), Norris Woods, St. Charles, IL.
The pearl crescent butterflies enjoy a wide variety of flowers. There are plenty of blooms to choose from in the middle of May. Wild geraniums are still going strong on the prairies and in the woodlands. Is it my imagination, or are they lingering longer this year? Maybe it’s the cool weather?
Wild geranium (Geranium maculatum), The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL. (2017)
Prairie, woodland, and savanna spring wildflowers are best seen up close.
Examining the wild hyacinth (Camassia scilloides), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
Then, when something unusual comes along, you’ll have a ringside seat.
Nessus Sphinx Moth (Amphion floridensis) on wild geranium (Geranium maculatum), Norris Woods Nature Preserve, St. Charles, IL.
And—you’ll thank your lucky stars—so grateful and glad that you went for a hike in the middle of May.
*****
The opening quote is by Francis Quarles (1592-1644), an English poet. One of his descendants was the poet Langston Hughes (1901-1967), a celebrated poet and author.
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Join Cindy for a program or class!
The Tallgrass Prairie: Illinois Original Garden Online: June 2, 7-8:30 p.m. Illinois’ nickname is “The Prairie State.” Listen to stories of the history of the tallgrass prairie and its amazing plants and creatures –-from blooms to butterflies to bison. Discover plants that work well in the home garden as you enjoy learning about Illinois’ “landscape of home.” Presented by Sag Moraine Native Plant Community. More information here.
Literary Gardens Online: June 8, 6:30-7:30 p.m. Join master gardener and natural history writer Cindy Crosby for a fun look at gardens in literature and poetry. From Agatha Christie’s mystery series, to Brother Cadfael’s medieval herb garden, to Michael Pollan’s garden in “Second Nature,” to the “secret garden” beloved of children’s literature, there are so many gardens that helped shape the books we love to read. Discover how gardens and garden imagery figure in the works of Mary Oliver, Henry Mitchell, Barbara Kingsolver, Lewis Carroll–and many more! See your garden with new eyes—and come away with a list of books you can’t wait to explore. Registration through the Downers Grove Public Library coming soon here.
Plant A Backyard Prairie:Online, Wednesday, June 9 and Friday, June 11, 11am-12:30pm CST –Bring the prairie to your doorstep! Turn a corner of your home landscape into a pocket-size prairie. If you think prairie plants are too wild for a home garden, think again! You can create a beautiful planted area that welcomes pollinators and wildlife without raising your neighbors’ eyebrows. In this online class, you will learn: how to select the right spot for your home prairie; which plants to select and their many benefits, for wildlife, and for you; creative ways to group plants for a pleasing look, and how to care for your prairie. Plus, you’ll get loads of inspiration from beautiful photos and stories that will bring your backyard prairie to life before you even put a single plant in the ground. Offered through The Morton Arboretum. Register here.
Thanks to Tricia Lowery and John Heneghan for the afternoon hike, the gift of the prairie plants, and help with spotting wonderful flying critters this week.
More than 300 species of plants and animals are found here. We go to see what emerges in the warmer temperatures of mid-March. At a glance, the prairie looks much as it did all winter. No prescribed burn has touched it yet.
But look closely. The first weedy black mustard’s emerald leaf florets lie flat against the prairie soil. An insect flies low and slow. Too quick for me to slap an ID on. Blue flag iris spears through the muddy waterway that winds through the dry grass and spent wildflowers. Signs of spring.
Blue flag iris (Iris virginica shrevei), Belmont Prairie, Downers Grove, IL.
I browse online to find more about the prairie and encounter this on the Downers Grove Park District’s site: “… in April of 1970, Alfred and Margaret Dupree presented a photograph of a rare prairie wildflower to an expert at the Morton Arboretum, as they were interested if it represented possible remnants of a native prairie. Upon inspection, it was found that the field had numerous native prairie species, and with the help of The Nature Conservancy, the owners were tracked down and the land was purchased. After officially becoming a part of the Park District, it was named an Illinois Nature Preserve in March, 1994.” I love it that two people paid attention to this remnant—and took time to investigate. It makes me wonder what we’ll see, if we look closely.
Rattlesnake master (Eryngium yuccifolium), Belmont Prairie, Downers Grove, IL.
So much to discover under our feet. But today, the real action is over our heads. The clouds sail fast across the horizon.
A breeze ruffles my hair. The melancholy whistle and the clickity-clack, clickity-clack, clickity-clack of a nearby train fills the air. But there’s another sound vying with the wind, train, and traffic noise. A high pitched babble. Look! There they are.
Riding on the winds above us are the sandhill cranes. Thousands and thousands of sandhills. Chasing a memory of somewhere north where they have urgent business to conduct. Each wave seems louder than the next. They are high—so high—in the sky.
The sun is merciless; so bright, we often lose them in its glare. The cranes wheel and pirouette; now flashes of silver overhead, now vanished.
All the obligatory words rise to my lips: Prehistoric. Ballet. Choreography. Dance. None seemed sufficient for this performance in the theater of the sky. The cranes assemble into a “V”, then slip into a sloppy “S”. Now they kettle, swirling and twirling. I’m reminded of my old “Mr. Doodleface” drawing board from childhood, where I dragged a magnet across black shavings to put hair and a beard on a picture of a man. The cranes seem like black shavings pulled through the sky in intricate patterns. Circles and lines and angles and scrawls. Changing from moment to moment. But always, that heart-breaking cry.
At home, I page through my field guides and bird books, then check online for more about cranes. I read that they are about four feet tall, the size of a first grader, with a wingspan of more than six feet.
Sandhill crane (Antigone canadensis), Fermilab Natural Areas, Batavia, IL (2019)
The newer scientific name since 2010 for sandhill cranes is Antigone canadensis. My birding guides, all a dozen years or more old, still have the previous genus name, Grus. The common name “sandhill” refers to this bird’s stopover in the Nebraska Sandhills, a staging area for the birds.
Sandhill cranes (Antigone canadensis), Jasper-Pulaski Fish & Wildlife Area, Medaryville, IN (2016)
Sandhill cranes can be found in North America, all the way to the extremes of northeastern Siberia. Three subspecies live in Cuba, Mississippi, and Florida year-round, according to Cornell University. These cranes are omnivores, changing their diet based on what’s available. Small amphibians, reptiles, and mammals may be on the menu one day; grains and plants the next.
Sandhill cranes (Antigone canadensis), Horicon Marsh, WI (2019)
The sandhills mate for life, or until one of the pair dies. Then, the remaining crane seeks a new partner.
Sandhill cranes (Antigone canadensis), Fermilab Natural Areas, Batavia, IL (2019)
Although gray, the sandhill crane has a rusty-colored wash on its feathers, caused by the bird rubbing itself with iron-rich mud. The birds have a distinctive scarlet patch on their foreheads.
Sandhill crane (Antigone canadensis), Green Lake, WI (2019)
The form of the crane is one of the first origami shapes many of us learned to make. According to a Japanese legend, if you make a thousand origami cranes the gods will grant you a wish. As I watch them fly over Belmont Prairie, it’s easy to think of what to wish for in the coming year.
As we leave, I find a single bird feather, caught in the tallgrass.
Unknown feather, Belmont Prairie, Downers Grove, IL.
A crane’s? Probably not. But a reminder of the connection of birds to this prairie remnant.
Later that afternoon, we hang my hammock on the back porch and I swing there with a book, pausing each time to look as the cranes pass overhead.
I wonder if the cranes knew the storm was coming? Prescient sandhills. Smart birds.
Welcome back.
*****
Aldo Leopold (1887-1948) is best known for A Sand County Almanac, from which the quote that kicks off this post was taken. His book was published shortly after his death and has sold more than two million copies. If you visit New Mexico, you can drive through the miles of the Aldo Leopold Wilderness in the Gila National Forest, named for him in 1980. Driving it, you’re aware of the solace of vast and empty spaces, and the importance of conservation. Find out more about Leopold here.
*****
Join Cindy for an online class! See http://www.cindycrosby.com for a full list of upcoming talks and programs.
A Brief History of Trees in AmericaWednesday,April 28, 7-8 p.m. Sponsored by Friends of the Green Bay Trail and the Glencoe Public Library. From oaks to sugar maples to the American chestnut: trees changed the course of American history. Discover the roles of a few of our favorite trees in building our nation as you remember and celebrate the trees influential in your personal history and your garden. Registration here.
Virtual Wildflower Walks Online: Section A: Friday, April 9, 11:30 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. CST Woodland Wildflowers, Section B: Thursday, May 6, 6:30 to 8:00 p.m. CST Woodland and Prairie Wildflowers. Wander through the ever-changing array of blooms in our woodlands and prairies in this virtual walk. Learn how to identify spring wildflowers, and hear about their folklore. In April, the woodlands begin to blossom with ephemerals, and weeks later, the prairie joins in the fun! Each session will cover what’s blooming in our local woodlands and prairies as the spring unfolds. Enjoy this fleeting spring pleasure, with new flowers revealing themselves each week. Register here.
Plant A Backyard Prairie:Online, Wednesday, June 9 and Friday, June 11, 11am-12:30pm. CST –Bring the prairie to your doorstep! Turn a corner of your home landscape into a pocket-size prairie. If you think prairie plants are too wild for a home garden, think again! You can create a beautiful planted area that welcomes pollinators and wildlife without raising your neighbors’ eyebrows. In this online class, you will learn: how to select the right spot for your home prairie; which plants to select and their many benefits, for wildlife, and for you; creative ways to group plants for a pleasing look, and how to care for your prairie. Plus, you’ll get loads of inspiration from beautiful photos and stories that will bring your backyard prairie to life before you even put a single plant in the ground. Register here.
“The afternoon is bright, with spring in the air, a mild March afternoon, with the breath of April stirring… .”—Antonio Machado
*******
It’s 63 degrees. I leave my heavy winter coat, gloves, and scarf in the closet and pull out my windbreaker for the first time in months.
Treeline in bright sun, East Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Winter hasn’t quite let go. No mistake about it. But the five senses say a shift in seasons is underway.
Gray-headed coneflower (Ratibida pinnata) and Queen Anne’s lace (Daucus carota), Dick Young Forest Preserve Prairie, Batavia, IL.
In between the prairie dropseed planted along the edges of my backyard patio, the crocus and snowdrops have emerged from their dark sojourn underground.
When I dug them in last October, the pandemic seemed to have gone on forever. Vaccination was only a dream. Spring seemed a long way off. Today, I count the flowers—10, 20, 40… . Look how far we’ve come.
Cardinal song wakes us in the morning. The windows are cracked open to take advantage of the smell of clean, laundered air.
Tall coreopsis (Coreopsis tripteris), East Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
On the prairie trails I see a honey bee, flying low to the ground, looking for something blooming. Not much. Warm temperatures and hot sun have brought the earliest prairie fliers out today. My ears catch the buzz—a sound I haven’t heard in months. Soon, I won’t even register it when the pollinators are out in numbers. Today, that “buzz” is still new enough to catch my attention.
Gray-headed coneflower (Ratibida pinnata), Dick Young Forest Preserve, Batavia, IL.
In the afternoon, hundreds of sandhill cranes pass overhead, their cries audible even inside the house. We stand on the back porch, eyes shielded against the bright sun, watching.
Waves upon waves upon waves. Heading north to the top of the world. Flying determinedly toward something they only dimly remember.
Sandhill cranes (Antigone canadensis), Dick Young Forest Preserve, Batavia, IL.
On the prairie, ice still slicks the trails where shadows lie. We pull on knee-high rubber boots and slosh through slush.
Trail through Dick Young Forest Preserve prairie, Batavia, IL.
In spots the paths are springy like a mattress. The trail gives unexpectedly and I tumble down, sprawling, laughing. It’s like sinking into a pillow– although a cold, muddy one. In spring, there are so many new sounds and scents it’s easy to forget to watch your step.
Bee balm (Monarda fistulosa), East Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Burdock burs, grasping at their last chance to hitchhike a ride, catch our clothes. We spend a few minutes pulling them off. Ouch! I’d forgotten how sharp they are. Years ago, I remember our collie getting into a big patch of burdock. Impossible to remove. I spent a good long while with the scissors, cutting the burs out.
Dick Young Forest Preserve prairie blues, early March, Batavia, IL.
All around me are the last seeds of 2020; those that remain uneaten by voles, undisturbed by winter storms. Seed dispersal is so varied on the prairie! Wind and animals; people and birds—we all have a role to play in the continuing life of plants. Even now, the vanishing snow is filtering the fallen seeds into the soil, ready for a new life.
Indian hemp or dogbane (Apocynum cannabinum), East Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Inhale. The smell of damp earth. Not the scent of fall’s decay, but something similar.
Goldenrod (Solidago sp.) “bunch gall”, East Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
The fragrance teases my nose. Tickles my memory. It’s the spring’s “prairie perfume.”
The sky begins to cloud with tiny popcorn cumulus. The warmth of the day takes on a bit of a chill. These are the last days of tallgrass.
Rattlesnake master (Eryngium yuccifolium), East Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Any day now, fire will come to these prairies. Smoke-plumes will rise in the distance. The old season will be burned away.
After the prescribed fire, Fermilab Interpretive Trail, Batavia, IL. (2018)
Until then, the brittle grasses and battered wildflowers wait, tinder for the flames.
Nachusa Grasslands, prescribed fire on Big Jump Prairie (2016).
Today, spring seems like something exotic, something new.
Cattails (Typha sp.), East Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
It’s not a shout yet. It’s barely a whisper.
Wild quinine (Parthenium integrifolium), Dick Young Forest Preserve prairie, Batavia, IL.
But listen.
Canada wild rye (Elymus canadensis), East Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Can you hear it?
*****
The quote that opens this post is by Antonio Machado (Antonio Cipriano José María y Francisco de Santa Ana Machado y Ruiz) (1875-1939) from Selected Poems, #3. Machado is regarded as one of Spain’s greatest poets. Reflective and spiritual, his poems explore love, grief, history and the landscape of Spain. A longer excerpt (as translated by Alan Trueblood), reads: “The afternoon is bright, /with spring in the air, /a mild March afternoon,/with the breath of April stirring,/ I am alone in the quiet patio/ looking for some old untried illusion -/some shadow on the whiteness of the wall/some memory asleep/on the stone rim of the fountain,/perhaps in the air/the light swish of some trailing gown.”
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Join Cindy for an online class! See http://www.cindycrosby.com for a full list of upcoming talks and programs.
Virtual Wildflower Walks Online: Section A: Friday, April 9, 11:30 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. CST Woodland Wildflowers, Section B: Thursday, May 6, 6:30 to 8:00 p.m. CST Woodland and Prairie Wildflowers. Wander through the ever-changing array of blooms in our woodlands and prairies in this virtual walk. Learn how to identify spring wildflowers, and hear about their folklore. In April, the woodlands begin to blossom with ephemerals, and weeks later, the prairie joins in the fun! Each session will cover what’s blooming in our local woodlands and prairies as the spring unfolds. Enjoy this fleeting spring pleasure, with new flowers revealing themselves each week. Register here.
Plant A Backyard Prairie:Online, Wednesday, June 9 and Friday, June 11, 11am-12:30pm. CST –Bring the prairie to your doorstep! Turn a corner of your home landscape into a pocket-size prairie. If you think prairie plants are too wild for a home garden, think again! You can create a beautiful planted area that welcomes pollinators and wildlife without raising your neighbors’ eyebrows. In this online class, you will learn: how to select the right spot for your home prairie; which plants to select and their many benefits, for wildlife, and for you; creative ways to group plants for a pleasing look, and how to care for your prairie. Plus, you’ll get loads of inspiration from beautiful photos and stories that will bring your backyard prairie to life before you even put a single plant in the ground. Register here.
“How we spend our days, is of course, how we spend our lives.” — Annie Dillard
*****
I’ve been re-reading Annie Dillard’s books this week and mulling over her words, like the ones that open today’s blog post. Thinking about how to spend my time wisely. It’s a challenge, isn’t it?
Walking the prairie after the burn, I’m reminded of time, and seasons of time, and our perception of it. As I hike, I’m surprised at the volume of sound. You’d think there would be silence on a charred landscape.
But the prairie is bustling and noisy. A killdeer cries its name as it sweeps across the ruins, looking for a place to build its nest. A just-burned prairie is exactly right. I hunt for the killdeer’s nests each spring, but they are such expert camouflage artists I’ve never found one. Maybe this will be my year.
Robins chatter, hopping along the banks of Willoway Brook, sifting the ashes for something good to eat. Overhead, waves and waves of sandhill cranes move high in the air, migrating north. So many! Thousands and thousands. This weekend was host to the largest movement of cranes I’ve ever seen at one time in the Chicago region. Pelicans were migrating, too! Check them out.
Elation! Then I look around me. Such desolation. I always have mixed feelings after the burn. A prescribed fire on the prairie leaves you with a sense of loss. Everything you knew written on that particular prairie slate is wiped clean. Close the book. Open a blank journal and begin a new season.
There is also a sense of relief. All my mistakes of the last year as a steward, writ large in reed canary grass growing vigorously by the brook, or the sneezeweed missing in action in the swale, are swept away. This season, I can start fresh. Daunting? Yes. And challenging.
The fire leaves me with a sense of hope. That thicket of brambles? This will be the year we finally knock it back. We can seed in missing milkweeds; repair a deteriorating trail, add an interpretive sign or two.
Day by day—week by week—stewards, staff, and volunteers will write a new seasonal story together. Every pulled garlic mustard plant makes room for a new shooting star wildflower to bloom. Remove invasive buckthorn and open space and light for bee balm wildflowers to flourish.
Rain, sunshine, snow—-they’ll all help write the new seasonal prairie story. Deer, coyotes, dragonflies, the mink who swims the creek—-they’ll each have a paragraph or two.
The just-burned landscape is prelude to the most exciting time of the year on the tallgrass prairie. New growth. The first blooms.
The red-winged blackbirds sing me along the trail as the sun sets. In the old, fire-damaged hawthorn tree, they mingle with brown-headed cowbirds whose lispy “clink! clink! clink!” calls are percussion to the blackbirds’ brassy song. I try to count the birds—how many do you see?
Annie Dillard once wrote about a “Tree of Lights” —a tree full of blackbirds. I think about her story as I watch the birds settle in for the night.
Then, another sound. Coyotes! A pack. The coyotes are invisible. but their calls are close by. Their wails and yips are both mournful and excited.
Exactly how I feel as I walk the burned prairie tonight.
The visible and the invisible. The old and the new. The past and the present. The coyotes announce the passing of one chapter in the prairie’s story; the beginning of a new one.
Time to turn the page.
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Annie Dillard , whose quote opens this blog, won the Pulitzer Prize for Pilgrim at Tinker Creek (1974). Read the full passage the quote was taken from here. One of my favorite sentences on her view of the way the world works: “It’s a hell of a way to run a railroad.” On writing: “Spend it all…do not hoard what seems good for (later).” Read the whole quote here. Wise woman. Wise words.
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All photos and video clip copyright Cindy Crosby (top to bottom): bench on the Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; Schulenberg Prairie after the burn, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; American white pelicans ( Pelecanus erythrorhynchos) migrating, author’s backyard prairie patch, Glen Ellyn, IL; Schulenberg Prairie after the burn, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; unknown species of moss on a burned-out log along the Schulenberg Prairie trail, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; bramble (Rubus species unknown) and bee balm (Monarda fistulosa), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; bee balm (Monarda fistulosa) singed by fire, Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; trail through the burned Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; 19 red-winged blackbirds (Agelaius phoeniceus)and brown-headed cowbirds (Molothrus ater) in a hawthorn tree (probably Crataegus mollis), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; coyotes (Canus latrans) calling on the Schulenberg Prairie at sunset, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
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More from Cindy:
Just released last week! Available at your favorite bookstore or online.
New Podcast!
Thanks to Shannon at Take A Hike Podcast in Los Angeles! Click here for the interview. Caution! Explicit dragonfly reproduction content in this podcast. 🙂
Cindy’s classes and speaking this week:
Nature Writing(online and in-person) continues this week at The Morton Arboretum. April 1–Dragonflies and Damselflies: The Garden and Prairie’s Frequent Flyers: LaGrange Garden Club, LaGrange, IL. (closed event). See more classes and events at http://www.cindycrosby.com.
“To keep every cog and wheel is the first precaution of intelligent tinkering.”–Aldo Leopold
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Polar Vortex! In the Illinois prairie region, all the chatter is about the week’s forecast: wind chill temperatures of 50-plus degrees below zero. Brrr! It’s a good time to dream a little bit about the summer to come.
One of my favorite tasks as a prairie steward is monitoring dragonflies. People often ask me in the winter, Where are the dragonflies now? How do they survive the brutal cold?
Some, I tell them, like the green darners and black saddlebags, have migrated south to reproduce. Later generations journey back north again, much like the well-publicized monarch butterfly. But most of our dragonflies are still here—in the nymph stage—under the surfaces of streams, ponds, and pools of prairie wetlands, waiting for spring and warmer temperatures. Under the prairie ice.
Dragonflies and their population changes tell us a lot about our water quality. Dragonfly responses to climate also help us understand what we see happening in the see-sawing temperatures and weather changes in the world around us. Good reasons to care! With this in mind, citizen scientists monitor dragonflies of all species, tracking their numbers each year.
We need our dragonflies. I’ve spent a lot of time kayaking and looking for dragonflies and damselflies on Silver Lake at Blackwell Forest Preserve in Warrenville, Illinois, just for fun. But now, in this January cold, the lake is full of ice fisherman.
Just across the preserve, not far from the ice fishing houses, is my destination—the Urban Stream Research Center. Here, one of our most vulnerable insect species, the Hine’s emerald dragonfly, is being reared.
Some people dream of meeting sports heroes. Others, their favorite rock star. Me, I dream of seeing the Hine’s emerald dragonfly (Somatochlorahineana) winging its way through a prairie preserve. It’s our only federally-endangered dragonfly. Finicky? Yes! It has a lot of special requirements, including shallow flowing water and time spent in burrows made by the devil crayfish.
… and open it to the Hine’s emerald dragonfly spread. Then, I think what it would be like to see the real thing.
Today, I’ll get part of my wish.
Heading up the project in its third year in the Chicago Region is DuPage County Forest Ecologist Andrés Ortega. His enthusiasm for dragonflies and passion for the project are evident from the first moment of my arrival at the center.
Andrés reaches into a refrigerator, and pulls out a dozen vials of tiny Hine’s emerald dragonfly nymphs.
The dragonfly nymphs are in “diapause,” just as nymphs are outdoors. These nymphs enjoy cool refrigerator temps of about 40 degrees Fahrenheit; their normal overwintering temperature, Ortega tells me.
The eggs were gathered from gravid female dragonflies at known breeding sites in DuPage and Cook Counties, Andrés tells me. Once netted, the tip of the female dragonfly’s abdomen is dipped into water—a process that simulates ovipositing—causing her to release her eggs. After the eggs are harvested, they are taken to a research laboratory in South Dakota. Here, they hatch and are cared for through their first months or even years of nymph life.
Then, they are driven to Illinois and hand-delivered to Ortega at the Urban Stream Research Center.
These are ferocious little critters. Andrés tells me they keep similar-sized nymphs with other similar-sized nymphs, as larger ones will enjoy the smaller ones for dinner if thrown together. Cannibalism! It’s a bug-eat-bug world out there. Staff carefully control the water quality (which should not be too clean) and water temperature.
In the spring, the nymphs will be released into the research center’s indoor raceways. These are long pools that mimic stream-like conditions. The temperature of the water in the raceways is carefully calibrated to reflect the rising temperatures outdoors.
Raceways are custom made by employees expressly for the dragonfly rearing. Sand, rocks, frayed rope pieces, and plastic aquarium plants offer hiding places for the nymphs. In about mid-May, the nymphs will begin feeding from a menu that includes small crustaceans and midge larvae. The screens and netting will keep midges from escaping and interfering with other research work at the center, such as mussel propagation.
It will take the dragonfly nymphs about four to five years to reach maturity, from the egg stage to the beautiful creatures of the air I see in my field guide. When ready to emerge, they will be released into suitable nature preserves in the state.
Ortega tells me that less than one percent of the Hine’s emerald dragonfly nymphs survive in the wild. Pretty slim odds, aren’t they? I’m grateful to people like Andrés Ortega. He is one of our unsung heroes, doing the hard work of keeping part of the natural world from vanishing forever.
The next time you see a frozen prairie stream or pond this winter, think of the many different species of dragonflies waiting to emerge, just underneath the surface. Who knows? This might be the year we see more of the Hine’s emerald dragonflies, cruising through prairie wetlands. I’m planning to show up and look.
How about you?
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The Aldo Leopold quote that opens this essay is from Round River. Leopold is often referred to as the father of wildlife ecology and the United States’ wilderness system. Please visit The Aldo Leopold Foundation’s website to learn more about Leopold and his work, which is carried on today.
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Grateful thanks to Andrés Ortega for his tour of the Urban Stream Research Center; his patient answers to all my questions; his reading and suggested edits for this blogpost (all remaining errors are my own); and his terrific work with dragonflies. Contact him at aortega@dupageforest.org.
Many thanks to super nice guy Kurt Mead, author of Dragonflies of the North Woods, Third Edition (2017), and Sparky Stensaas, co-owner of Kollath+Stensaas Publishing, who approved using the cover and pages with the Hine’s emerald dragonfly for this post (and also thanks to photographer Troy Hibbitts whose Hine’s emerald images (thehibbets.net) appear on those pages. If you are interested in dragonflies, you should own this beautiful guide–it is indispensable for Midwestern dragonfly chasers, even if you live a little further south of the North Woods (I live in Illinois). Order from your favorite local bookseller, or online here.
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All photos copyright Cindy Crosby (top to bottom): Mt. Hoy, Blackwell Forest Preserve, Forest Preserve of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL; cold day at Springbrook Prairie, Naperville, IL; hundreds of Canada geese (Branta canadensis) on open water of Springbrook Creek at Blackwell Forest Preserve, Forest Preserve of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL; male calico pennant(Celithemis elisa), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL: ice fishing shacks on Silver Lake, Blackwell Forest Preserve, Forest Preserve of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL; Urban Stream Research Center, Blackwell Forest Preserve, Forest Preserve of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL; Cover of Dragonflies of the North Woods, Third Edition, by Kurt Mead (2017), courtesy Kollath+Stensaas Publishing and Kurt Mead; interior spread, Dragonflies of the North Woods, Third Edition, by Kurt Mead (2017), courtesy Kollath+Stensaas Publishing and Kurt Mead. Andrés Ortega (Homo sapiens), ecologist, Forest Preserve District of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL; vials of Hine’s emerald dragonfly (Somatochlora hineana) nymphs, Urban Stream Research Center, Blackwell Forest Preserve, Forest Preserve District of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL; Hine’s emerald dragonfly(Somatochlora hineana)nymph, Urban Stream Research Center, Blackwell Forest Preserve, Forest Preserve District of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL; Hine’s emerald dragonfly (Somatochlora hineana) nymph,Urban Stream Research Center, Blackwell Forest Preserve, Forest Preserve District of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL; Hine’s emerald dragonfly (Somatochlora hineana) nymph, Urban Stream Research Center, Blackwell Forest Preserve, Forest Preserve District of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL; water system, Urban Stream Research Center, Blackwell Forest Preserve, Forest Preserve District of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL; raceway system, Urban Stream Research Center, Blackwell Forest Preserve, Forest Preserve District of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL; life support system, Urban Stream Research Center, Blackwell Forest Preserve, Forest Preserve District of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL; Fox River, Geneva, IL.
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 