Tag Archives: native plants

Wings and Stings in the Prairie Garden

“Even as the people changed the prairie, it changed them.” —John Madson

*****

You know the old saying, “Grasp the nettle?”

Don’t do it.

Slender stinging nettle (Urtica gracilis), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

I’ve always believed in facing tough issues head on. I like to get the worst over with. That’s what this popular phrase always meant to me. But I’ll never hear “grasp the nettle” in the same way again after this week’s encounter. The story goes like this… .

April 9, I delighted in a red admiral butterfly—the first of the year!—on an unknown plant which showed up by my back door this spring. A friend mentioned the pretty leaves looked like stinging nettles. How cool, I thought. The word “stinging” sort of went right over my head. Another acquaintance noted that nettles are a host plant for several butterflies, but! I should be sure and wear gloves if I touched the plant.

Red admiral butterfly (Vanessa atalanta) on slender stinging nettle (Urtica gracilis), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL. The purple flowering plant in the left-hand corner is the non-native dead nettle (Lamium purpureum), no relation.

All I heard was “butterflies.” Illinois Wildflowers notes that in addition to the red admiral butterfly, the comma butterfly…

Eastern comma butterfly (Polygonia comma), The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL. (2022)

…the question mark butterfly…

Question mark butterfly (Polygonia interrogationis), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL. (2014)

…and the Milbert’s tortoiseshell butterfly all use this plant. I love butterfly host plants! What’s not to like? Well.

Fast forward five weeks from that April sighting. Monday night, I decided to check the plants for caterpillars. Yes! There they were. Excited, I pried back the rolled leaves. One caterpillar… three… six… . It was about then when I realized I had made a mistake. It felt as if red hot needles were searing my fingers! As I read later, the hairs on the stinging nettle leaves shoot irritants directly into your skin.

Googling quickly, my husband Jeff and I read that soap and water will alleviate some of the pain of stinging nettles. Even better—sticking duct tape to the affected area and ripping it off will supposedly remove some of the plant’s chemicals. We gave it a go. It did help.

Duct tape is evidently a magical cure for just about anything.

I’ve gardened since I was six years old, so how did I miss stinging nettles? This was my first—and hopefully my last—up close and personal experience with them. On the happy side, we have lots of red admiral caterpillars, in what appear to be their third or fourth instar.

Red admiral butterfly caterpillar (Vanessa atalanta) on slender stinging nettle (Urtica gracilis), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Each caterpillar has rolled itself into a nettle leaf for shelter, almost like a half-open cannoli. The leaves are partially eaten away. Tiny black balls of frass—otherwise known as insect poop—stay in the leaf with the caterpillars. Can you spot the frass in the photo above?

Ted Scott, a Utah butterfly expert, says that as soon as one leaf is mostly consumed, the red admiral caterpillars will move to a different leaf for another meal.

Red admiral butterfly caterpillar (Vanessa atalanta) on slender stinging nettle (Urtica gracilis), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Before long, Scott notes, the caterpillars should form chrysalises. He documents the process here—take a look.

If I look for chrysalises later this month, I’ll be more careful. The genus “Urtica” (from the Latin) is variously said to mean “to sting” or “to burn.” I can vouch for this.

As I nursed my painful skin, I read that nettles have a rich history in literature. In Hans Christian Anderson’s fairy tale, The Wild Swans, the princess must weave or knit shirts from nettles while staying silent to save her 11 brothers.

From Fairy Tales Told to Children, 1838, Denmark.

She looks pretty calm in that picture above. I’m impressed she could do the work without shouting.

I also discovered that some species of nettles are also used in textile work, resulting in a surprisingly soft cloth. Other species have been used medicinally, and by foragers in culinary dishes. Prepared carefully, I would assume. English poet Aaron Hill had a popular poem “Nettle” in the 1700s which began, “Tender handed, stroke a nettle, and it stings you for your pains… .” He sounds like he knows what he’s writing about.

Is the stinging nettle a blessing? Or a curse? I may need to place yellow crime scene tape around the nettles by our back door to keep unwary visitors from touching the plant. Not very attractive. Should I keep the nettles? As a native plant lover, I’ve never had a dilemma quite like this one. Even if these nettles are a native, like my golden alexanders…

Golden alexanders (Zizia aurea), Crosby’s front yard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

…or my just-about-to-bloom prairie alumroot…

Prairie alumroot (Heuchera richardsonii), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

…stinging nettles are tougher sell. I will probably let the caterpillars use the plants this spring. After that? I’m not sure I want to risk another encounter. What do you think?

Of course, long after the pain is forgotten, won’t the red admiral butterflies be wonderful to see?

Red admiral butterfly caterpillar (Vanessa atalanta), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL. (2021)

Worth the stings.

I think.

But next time I look for caterpillars on nettles, I’m wearing gloves.

*****

The opening quote is from John Madson (1923-1995), once editor of Iowa Conservationist magazine and journalist for the Des Moines Register. His classic book, Where the Sky Began (1982) remains a touchstone for prairie stewards everywhere. This quote is taken from a collection of his essays, Our Home. (1979). Read a longer excerpt in John T. Price’s wonderful collection of essays, The Tallgrass Prairie Reader (2014).

*****

Join Cindy for a program or class!

Dragonflies and Damselflies: Frequent Fliers of the Garden and Prairie, Tuesday, May 16, 10-11:30 CT via Zoom with the Garden Club of Decatur, IL (closed event for members). For information on joining the club, visit here.

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.

More classes and programs at www.cindycrosby.com

April on the Prairie

“April is the cruelest month… .”—T.S. Eliot

*****

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.

Marsh marigolds (Caltha palustris), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

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.

Rattlesnake master (Eryngium yuccifolium), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

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.

Pasque flower (Pulsatilla patens), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

At least one flower escaped the flames! Just a little singed.

Pasque flower (Pulsatilla patens), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

I carefully count what’s left. One. Two. Three. Four. I hope there are more that I missed.

Pasque flower (Pulsatilla patens), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

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!

More classes and programs at www.cindycrosby.com

A Spring Prairie Ballot

“Every spring is…a perpetual astonishment.”—Brother Cadfael

*****

It’s election day in the Chicago Region. After casting my vote, I’ll be ready to clear my head of being buffaloed by a deluge of ads, strident television commercials, and unwanted texts (how did they get my phone number, anyway?)

Bison (Bison bison), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.

I’m casting my vote for a prairie hike. A vote for spring.

Prairie dropseed (Sporobolus heterolepis) with spring bulbs, Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL (2022).

What’s on the ballot today? Warm weather for starters. This past week (and possibly today) we can expect tornadoes, severe storms, high winds, hail, and a deluge of rain that makes keeping my kayak handy sound like a good idea. I plan to keep a close eye on the weather radar and listen to weatherman Tom Skilling.

Turkey vulture (Cathartes aura) over Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.

In my backyard pond, the first marsh marigolds open.

Marsh marigold (Caltha palustris), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Typically, it’s the first native plant in my yard to bloom each year, following my non-native daffodils, crocus, hyacinth, and snowdrops. It’s important not to confuse my marsh marigolds with the non-native, very aggressive lesser celandine (Ficaria verna) which takes over wet areas in neighborhoods and forest preserves.

Invasive non-native lesser celandine, sometimes called fig buttercup (Ficaria verna) Willowbrook Wildlife Center, DuPage Forest Preserve, Glen Ellyn, IL.(2022)

An easy way to tell the native and the non-native apart is to flip a bloom over. The lesser celandine has three green sepals on the back of the bloom; the marsh marigold does not.

The aggressive non-native lesser celandine (Ficaria verna) on the left; the native marsh marigold (Caltha palustris) on the lower right. (2022)

Worth watching for this spring, and learning the difference.

Red admiral butterflies are usually quick to show up around marsh marigold bloom time.

Red admiral butterfly (Vanessa atalanta), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL. (2021)

I’m on high alert for the first one in my backyard. As I walk around in the mud, looking for early butterflies, I see the purple hyacinths are in bloom. Ahhh! What a heavenly fragrance.

Purple hyacinth (Hyacinthus orientalis), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

But what’s this? Some of our backyard wildlife has sampled the flowers, then ruthlessly tossed them aside.

Broken stem of purple hyacinth (Hyacinthus orientalis), on top of the prairie dropseed (Sporobolus heterolepis), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Ugh. Looking closely, I find more hyacinth blooms, stripped and tossed into the prairie dropseed. My eyes narrow. I scan the yard for the culprit. Then, I look up.

Eastern fox squirrel (Sciuris niger), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL. (Undated)

“Who, me?” He’s blaming the chipmunks.

Moving away from the ruined hyacinths, I check the two native spicebush shrubs which seem to have escaped wildlife damage over the winter. The first flower buds are open!

Northern spicebush (Lindera benzoin), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Charming! I recently read that all parts of Lindera benzoin are said to be edible, including the buds, twigs, flowers and fruit. This pair was planted in 2021, sourced from Possibility Place Nursery, knowing that northern spicebush is a host plant for the spicebush swallowtail butterfly. I’ve never seen the spicebush swallowtail in my yard, but I have high hopes. How have my other native shrubs fared? No flowers on my witch hazel this year, but it’s still young. Next to it, the two-year-old native hazelnut shrub has its first catkins.

American hazelnut (Corylus americana), Crosby’s yard, Glen Ellyn, IL. Note the cut stems!

But—oh no oh no oh no—the bunnies have been busy. Lots of small branches sheared off. How could you? Wascally wabbits! The writer Michael Pollan once wrote in his book, Second Nature, that planting a garden clears the mind of any easy sentiments about wildlife, and nature in general. Hopefully, now that there is more green stuff available to eat, the eastern cottontails will leave my shrubs alone.

Meanwhile, Jacob’s ladder is in bud.

Jacob’s ladder (Polemonium reptans), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

And look at that shooting star! The bunchy leaves are crisp and healthy-looking.

Shooting star (Dodecatheon meadii or Primula meadia), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

I can’t wait to see the flowers in early to mid-May.

Shooting star (Dodecatheon meadia or Primula meadia), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL. (2018)

The few flowers I have in my backyard are beautiful, but they pale in comparison to those massed on the remnant prairies.

Shooting star (Dodecatheon meadia or Primula meadia), Beach Cemetery Prairie, Ogle County, IL. (2022)

In the raised beds, last year’s Italian parsley is resurrecting. My parsley is an open-pollinated biennial, which means if I let it grow this spring, it will eventually set seed. I’m not sure I want to do that—parsley seed doesn’t cost much—but it might be fun to see the flowers. It’s a good host plant for black swallowtail butterfly caterpillars.

Italian parsley (Petroselinum crispum), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

The garlic has put on noticeable growth. However, the raised beds need more compost and topsoil. Dirt has a way of settling.

Garlic (Allium sativum), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

There are some noticeable plant absences. As I mentioned a few weeks ago, where, oh where, is my prairie smoke? And what has happened to the prairie alumroot? It’s coming up, although a bit nibbled.

Prairie alumroot (Heuchera richardsonii), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

But no sign of the prairie smoke. Fingers crossed.

Out on the prairies, charred earth shows that the site staff and volunteers have been busy.

Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.

The storms and showers forecast for today will quickly mist them with green. Spring is here, and on her prairie and garden ballot are a hundred thousand unfolding miracles each day.

Pasque flower (Pulsatilla patens), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL. (Undated)

You only need to show up and pay attention.

Why not go see?

******

The opening quote is from Brother Cadfael, a fictional character in the book A Raven in the Foregate. His character was created by novelist Edith Pargeter (1913-1995) known by her pen name as Ellis Peters. “The Cadfael Chronicles” is a murder mystery series set in the Abbey of Shrewsbury during medieval times, and features this Welsh Benedictine monk, who joins the order after years spent as a soldier. The books were later adapted for television. Pargeter was the recipient of the Edgar Award and Silver Dagger Award for her writing, and authored many other books outside the series. If you haven’t read her books, I’d start with the first in “The Cadfael Chronicles,” A Morbid Taste for Bones.

******

Join Cindy for a Class or Program

Tonight! The Tallgrass Prairie: Grocery Store, Apothecary, and Love Charm Shop: April 4, 7-8:30 pm. Free and open to the public. Presented by the Winfield Area Gardeners. For more information and location, visit here.

A Brief History of Trees in America: April 5 (Closed event for the Illinois Garden Council). Chicago Western Suburbs.

Literary Gardens — In Person — April 11, 7-8:30 p.m., Glenview Garden Club and Glenview Public Library. Free and open to the public, but seating is limited. Register here.

Illinois’ Wild and Wonderful Early Bloomers — Monday, April 17, 5-6 p.m., Rock River Garden Club, Dixon, IL. (Closed event for members)

The Tallgrass Prairie: An Introduction — Tuesday, April 18, Algonquin Garden Club, 12:30-2 p.m. (Closed event for members)

Spring Wildflower and EthnobotanyWalk—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.

More classes and programs at www.cindycrosby.com

Bedazzled by Birds and Garden Catalogs

“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

****

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… .

Garden tomatoes (Solanum lycopersicum), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL. (2018)

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.

Giant Marconi sweet peppers (Capsicum annuum ‘Giant Marconi’), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL (2022).

After a happy morning with the garden catalogs, Jeff and I go for a hike at a local forest preserve.

Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.

The call of sandhill cranes is a continuous soundtrack to our ramble. Bird migration is ramping up.

Sandhill cranes (Antigone canadensis) over Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.

Birders glass the lake with their binoculars, pointing. Northern shovelers! Almost a dozen scattered across the water.

Northern shovelers (Spatula clypeata), Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.

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.

February on the Prairie

“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.

Mallards (Anas platyrhynchos), Schulenberg Prairie Savanna, Willoway Brook, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

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.

A red-breasted nuthatch snatches a bit of suet.

Red-breasted nuthatch (Sitta canadensis), 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.

Eastern cottontail (Sylvilagus floridanus), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

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?

Eastern gray squirrel (Sciurus carolinensis), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

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 Homesteader by 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.

Farewell, January Prairie!

Most of life’s problems can be solved with a good cookie.”—Ina Garten

*****

Our first month of 2023 is almost in the books, and what a beautiful month it’s been.

What? you may ask. Yes, you heard that right.

Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.

Sure, there have been some gray skies.

Biesecker Nature Preserve prairie, Cedar Lake, IN.

Some bitterly cold January mornings.

Sunrise, Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Moments when we felt as if we couldn’t see what was ahead.

Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.

And—perhaps a little less snow than we might have liked over the course of the month…

Carolina horsenettle (Solanum carolinense), Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.

…although these last few days have brought the bright white stuff back to our winter here in the Chicago Region.

Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.

But consider the colors of the prairie wildflowers and grasses this month.

Biesecker Nature Preserve prairie, Cedar Lake, IN

The stark beauty of prairie plant architecture.

Sunflowers (probably Helianthus grosseseratus), Biesecker Nature Preserve prairie, Cedar Lake, IN.

January has its own rewards, even if they are more understated than the other eleven months. But you’ll find them. If you look for them.

Although January is almost in the rear view mirror…

Sunset, Glen Ellyn, IL (2021).

…the year is still in its raw beginnings. Think of what lies ahead! More adventures. New things to discover.

Tree sparrow (Spizelloides arborea), Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.

Imagine all the intriguing ways the prairie will unfold over the course of the next eleven months.

Gray skies over Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.

Who knows what stories we’ll have to tell?

Biesecker Nature Preserve prairie, Cedar Lake, IN.

How will you spend the last day of January 2023? Today is our final chance to add to the “January” chapter of our lives before we turn to February.

Biesecker Nature Preserve, Cedar Lake, IN.

I know I’m going to bake a few cookies—chocolate chip—as a defense against the bitter cold. (You, too? Let me know your favorites.)

Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.

Then, I’m going to tuck a few warm cookies in my pocket and go for a short hike on the prairie. Gloved, hatted, and mittened, of course. It’s so cold! But I want to remember this January. Who knows what stories are out there, waiting to be read on the prairie?

Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN.

Ready? Let’s go!

*****

The opening quote is from Emmy-Award winning Ina Rosenberg Garten (1948-), known to multitudes as the Food Network’s “Barefoot Contessa” since 2002, when her show debuted. She has worked at the White House’s Office of Management and Budget, where she wrote nuclear energy budget and policy papers for President Gerald Ford and President Jimmy Carter. While in Washington, she purchased and renovated old houses in the area, earning enough profits to purchase an existing food store called “Barefoot Contessa.” Her The Barefoot Contessa Cookbook, which was published in 1999, sold more than 100,000 copies in its first year. Try her creamy potato-fennel soup—it’s a great winter warm up.

*****

Calling all writers! We have a few spots left for the Nature Writing Workshop at The Morton Arboretum—-four Thursdays in person (6-8:30 p.m.), beginning Feb.2 (this week!). Please join us, even if you can’t make all four sessions. Having trouble getting that New Year’s Resolution writing project underway? Join us! Read the full class description and register here.

Winter Prairie Wonders — Tuesday, February 7, 10-11:30 a.m. Discover the joys of the prairie in winter as you hear readings about the season. Enjoy stories of the animals who call the prairie home. Hosted by the Northbrook Garden Club in Northbrook, IL. Free to non-members, but you must register by contacting NBKgardenclub@gmail.com for more information.

Dragonflies and Damselflies: The Garden’s Frequent Fliers –— Wednesday, February 8, noon-1:30 p.m. Hosted by Countryside Garden Club in Crystal Lake, IL. (Closed event for members)

The Tallgrass Prairie: Grocery Store, Apothecary, and Love Charm Shop— Thursday, February 9, 12:30-2 p.m. Hosted by Wheaton Garden Club in Wheaton, IL (closed event for members).

Illinois’ Wild and Wonderful Early Bloomers— February 20, 7:15 p.m-8:45 p.m. Hosted by the Suburban Garden Club, Indian Head Park, IL. Free and open to non-members. For more information, contact Cindy through her website contact space at http://www.cindycrosby.com.

*****

Bell Bowl Prairie in Rockford, IL, needs your help! Find out more on saving this threatened prairie remnant at SaveBellBowlPrairie.

The Prairie in Color

We come and go but the land will always be here.” —Willa Cather

******

Just when I made a New Year’s resolution to learn the names of cloud types, a sheet of gray stratus clouds moved in last week. Gray. Gray. Gray. That was the story here. There’s something to be said for consistency, I suppose. On a walk with friends along the Fox River this weekend, I looked for color. A few mossy greens. Some russet leaves.

Creek through Bennett Park, Fox River, Geneva, IL.

The creek that ran to the river reflected that metallic, stratus-filled sky.

As we watched the Fox River slip by, even the birds seemed to lack color. The Canada geese were spiffed up in their yin-yang tuxedoes.

Canada geese (Branta canadensis), Fox River, Geneva, IL.

Common mergansers floated by, intent upon their errands, barely within the reach of my camera.

Common mergansers (Mergus merganser), Fox River, Geneva, IL.

In the distance, a few common goldeneyes floated just out of reach of my zoom lens. But wait—what’s this?

Tundra swan (Cygnus columbianus), Fox River, Geneva, IL.

A tundra swan! A bird I’ve never seen, and one of the more infrequent ones for Illinois. Our friends, who brought us here specifically for this reason, pointed out the ID markers which differentiate it from other swans, including a small amount of yellow on the bill.

Nearby, two other tundra swans floated under the flat, silvered sky.

Tundra swans (Cygnus columbianus), Fox River, Geneva, IL.

I knew that later, hours of my afternoon would be spent reading more about these unusual birds, and trying to understand more about what we had seen.

The last bird of the morning turned out to be one of the metallica species.

Fox River, Geneva, IL.

Ha! Almost fooled me.

Along the shoreline, I spotted a few prairie plant favorites. Familiar, but still welcome. Wild bergamot mingled with evening primrose.

Wild bergamot (Monarda fistulosa) and evening primrose (Oenothera biennis), Fox River, Geneva, IL.

Blue vervain’s silhouette was set off by the river’s reflection of that silvered sky.

Blue vervain (Verbena hastata), Fox River, Geneva, IL.

And—is that a mallow? I love the cracked-open seed pods of mallow…perhaps it’s the native swamp rose mallow? iNaturalist thinks so, but I’m not completely sure.

Swamp rose mallow (Hibiscus grandiflorus), Fox River, Geneva, IL.

Plant identification in winter is always a challenge. If this is swamp rose mallow, it is a far cry from those beautiful pink blooms in the summer. (You can see them here.)

Thinking about swamp rose mallow reminds me of Pantone’s recent pick for “Color of the Year” — “Viva Magenta.”

Courtesy Pantone.

You can see why the swamp rose mallow would approve! Thinking about the mallow and its magenta leads me down the rabbit trail of other prairie magentas. After I posted the “Viva Magenta” color of the year announcement this week on Facebook, many folks chimed in with their favorite magentas in nature.

Prairie smoke.

Prairie smoke (Geum triflorum), University of Wisconsin-Madison Arboretum, Madison, WI. (2019)

Prairie sunrises and sunsets…

College of DuPage Natural Areas, Glen Ellyn, IL (2018).

The deep, rich magenta of dogwood stems in winter.

Afton Forest Preserve, DeKalb, IL (2021).

The rich magenta of sumac-washed leaves in autumn.

Smooth sumac (Rhus glabra), Belmont Prairie, Downers Grove, IL. (2020)

The bramble sharp branches of iced wild blackberry, which winds its way through the prairie, ripping and tripping.

Common blackberry (Rubus allegheniensis), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL. (2021)

I think of the dragonflies I chase across the prairies in the summer’s heat. None of the Illinois’ species bring the color magenta to mind. But! I remember other dragonflies in other places, like this roseate skimmer in Tucson, Arizona.

Roseate skimmer dragonfly (Orthemis ferruginea), Sabino Canyon, Tucson, AZ. (2021)

Today, here on the Fox River, magenta isn’t much in evidence. But there’s joy in every bit of color along this river, no matter how subtle.

Fox River, Geneva, IL.

There is delight in remembering the times nature has exploded with “viva magenta” both in flight…

Roseate spoonbill (Platalea ajaja), J. N. “Ding” Darling National Wildlife Refuge, Sanibel Island, FL. (2020)

…and in bloom.

Hibiscus (Hibiscus sp.), Captiva Island, Florida (2019).

And there is happiness in seeing some rarities that while, perhaps lacking in color, don’t lack for excitement and awe.

Tundra swan (Cygnus columbianus) feather, Fox River, Geneva, IL.

Who knows what else January may bring? The new year is off to a great start.

Why not go see?

*****

The opening quote is from writer Willa Cather (1873-1947) from O Pioneers! Cather spent part of her childhood in Nebraska, and graduated from University of Nebraska-Lincoln. She wrote compellingly about life on the prairies.

*****

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. Class size is limited. 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. Class size is limited. For more information and to register visit here.

Looking for a speaker for your next event? Visit www.cindycrosby.com for more information.

*****

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.

Special thanks to John and Tricia this week for showing us the tundra swans!

A Very Fermi Prairie Legend

“I had caught prairie fever.” — Dr. Robert Betz

*******

Most people know Fermilab in Batavia, Illinois, as a particle physics and accelerator laboratory. But today, I’m here for the prairie.

Interpretive trail, Fermilab Natural Areas, Batavia, IL.

Fermilab is a protected government area, so a guard checks my driver’s license at the gate, then makes me a guest tag to stick on my coat. He smiles as he hands me a map and waves my car through the checkpoint. I’m off to the interpretive trail…

Interpretive trail, Fermilab Natural Areas, Batavia, IL.

… to see what delights the December prairie has in store for me this morning.

Gray-headed coneflower (Ratibida pinnata), Fermilab Natural Areas, Batavia, IL.

You might wonder: What is tallgrass prairie doing at a place where phrases like “quantum gravity” and “traversable wormhole” are the norm?

Prairie dock (Silphium terabinthinaceum), Fermilab Natural Areas, Batavia, IL.

So glad you asked! The prairie was the dream of Dr. Robert “Bob” Betz, a Northeastern Illinois biology professor who was dubbed by the Chicago Tribune as “a pioneer in prairie preservation.” In 1975, Betz heard that Fermilab’s then-director Dr. Robert Wilson was looking for ideas on how to plant its thousands of acres in the Chicago suburbs.

Interpretive trail, Fermilab Natural Areas, Batavia, IL.

As Betz tells the story in his book, The Prairie of the Illinois Country (published in 2011 after his death), he enlisted the help of The Morton Arboretum’s legendary Ray Schulenberg and Cook County Forest Preserve’s David Blenz to go with him to meet with Dr. Wilson to pitch the prairie project.

Canada wild rye (Elymus canadensis), Fermilab Natural Areas, Batavia, IL.

Dr. Wilson, Betz said, listened to their ideas. He then proposed the interior of the accelerator ring for planting. “How long would it take to restore such a prairie?” Wilson asked the trio.

Prairie dock (Silphium terabinthinaceum), Fermilab Natural Areas, Batavia, IL.

Betz admitted it might take five years. Ten. Twenty or more.

White wild indigo (Baptisa alba macrophylla) Fermilab Natural Areas, Batavia, IL.

Betz writes that Dr. Wilson was quiet for a few seconds, “… and then he turned to us and said, ‘If that’s the case, I guess we should start this afternoon.’ “

Interpretive trail, Fermilab Natural Areas, Batavia, IL.

What vision these men had! Their dream, coupled with the work of countless volunteers and staff, has birthed this restoration of Illinois’ native landscape across Fermilab’s vast campus today.

Interpretive trail, Fermilab Natural Areas, Batavia, IL.

I wonder what Dr. Betz would think if he could hike with me this morning, and see the array of tallgrass prairie plants that shimmer under the winter sky…

Interpretive trail, Fermilab Natural Areas, Batavia, IL.

… which changes every few moments, kaleidoscoping from dark clouds to blue sky; contrails to sunshine.

Interpretive trail, Fermilab Natural Areas, Batavia, IL.

Within view of the interpretative trail looms Wilson Hall, where the nation’s most intelligent scientists mingle and confer.

Wilson Hall, Fermilab, Batavia, IL.

I think of these scientists as I hike the prairie. The future, meeting the past. I think of Dr. Betz, and his willingness to dream big.

Common mountain mint (Pycanthemum virginianum), Fermilab Natural Areas, Batavia, IL.

The slogan for Fermilab is this: “We bring the world together to solve the mysteries of matter, energy, space and time.”

Indian hemp or dogbane (Apocynum cannabinum), Fermilab Natural Areas, Batavia, IL.

The tallgrass prairie is full of mysteries.

Stiff goldenrod (Oligoneuron rigidum), Fermilab Natural Areas, Batavia, IL.

It’s a restoration, hearkening to the past, but also the landscape of our future, holding hope for a healthier, more diverse natural world. Because of the work of Dr. Betz and the people who took time to introduce him to prairie in a way that seeded in him a life-long passion for saving and restoring the tallgrass, we can continue to learn about our “landscape of home” here, even as science moves us into the future.

Compass plant (Silphium laciniatum), Fermilab Natural Areas, Batavia, IL.

Thanks, Dr. Betz.

You made a difference.

*****

Dr. Robert Betz (1923-2007) caught “prairie fever” after a nature outing with the also-legendary Floyd Swink (Plants of the Chicago Region, first edition 1969). Once Betz was hooked, he became a force of nature in Illinois for prairie conservation and restoration. At the end of his book, The Prairie of the Illinois Country, he writes: “Fortunately, in spite of all the tribulations the Prairie of the Illinois Country has undergone during the past 150 years, its remnants are still with us. But to continue the work that began decades ago to save, protect, restore, and enlarge these remnants, future generations must make a real effort to educate the public about their importance as a natural heritage and ecological treasure…. Hopefully, what this may mean in the future is there would be a plethora of people infected with the author’s ‘prairie fever.‘”

******

For more information on Dr. Betz’s work at Fermilab, check out Fermilab’s natural areas here, and Fermilab’s Batavia National Accelerator Laboratory here. Read more about Dr. Betz in his obituary here, or in this article by former Fermi staff member Ryan Campbell here. A tremendous thanks to all the stewards, staff, and volunteers who keep the Fermilab Natural Areas healthy and thriving. As Dr. Betz wrote, it is an “ecological treasure.”

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Save Bell Bowl Prairie!

Bell Bowl Prairie at the Chicago-Rockford International Airport is once again under siege. Help save this important remnant prairie! See simple things you can do here. Thank you for keeping this ecological treasure intact.

Autumn on the Tallgrass Prairie

“But what pencil has wandered over the grander scenes of the North American prairie? …I have gazed upon all the varied loveliness of my own, fair, native land, from the rising sun to its setting, and in vain have tasked my fancy to imagine a fairer. — Edmund Flagg

******

Gray clouds slide across the sky. Low temperatures send us to our closets, looking for heavy sweaters and winter jackets.

Indian grass (Sorghastrum nutans), College of DuPage, Russell R. Kirt Prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL.

I’m tempted to stay inside. Duck out of any hiking.

Mallard ducks (Anas platyrhynchos), College of DuPage, Russell R. Kirt Prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL.

But! Autumn is in full swing.

Native prairie and pollinator neighborhood planting, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Who would want to miss it?

Whorled milkweed (Asclepias verticillata), College of DuPage, Russell R. Kirt Prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL.

October loves to surprise us. One day, it’s all sunshine and warmth, the next, there’s a hint of the Midwest winter to come.

College of DuPage, Russell R. Kirt Prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL.

On the prairie this month, it’s all about the seeds. Fluffy seeds.

Butterfly milkweed (Asclepias tuberosa) and prairie dropseed (Sporobolus heterolepis), College of DuPage, Russell R. Kirt Prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Seeds in crackly coats.

Tall cinquefoil (Drymocallis arguta), College of DuPage, Russell R. Kirt Prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Seeds soft as silk.

Butterfly milkweed (Asclepias tuberosa), College of DuPage, Russell R. Kirt Prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Seeds with the promise of a new generation.

Compass plant (Silphium laciniatum), College of DuPage, Russell R. Kirt Prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Sure, there are still wildflowers in bloom.

Tall coreopsis (Coreopsis tripteris), College of DuPage, Russell R. Kirt Prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL.

And leaves full of color.

Compass plant (Silphium laciniatum), College of DuPage Russell R. Kirt Prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Some leaves more beautiful than the flowers.

Prairie dock (Silphium terabinthinaceum), College of DuPage, Russell R. Kirt Prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Forget the trees. The prairie stars in October’s fall color show.

College of DuPage, Russell R. Kirt Prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL.

What a beautiful season to hike the tallgrass!

Little bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium) and New England aster (Symphotrichum novae-angliae), neighborhood planting, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Why not go see?

******

The opening quote is from The Tallgrass Prairie Reader, edited by John T. Price (University of Iowa Press), from Edmund Flagg, who wrote about the Illinois prairie in 1838.

*****

Upcoming Programs and Classes

Thursday, October 20, 2022 (10:15-11:30a.m.)—The Garden’s Frequent Fliers: Dragonflies and Damselflies, Lincolnshire Garden Club, Vernon Hills, Illinois. Closed event for members. For information on joining this garden club, please visit their website here.

Saturday, November 5, 2022 (10-11:30 am)Winter Prairie Wonders, hosted by Wild Ones of Gibson Woods, Indiana, in-person and via Zoom. Cindy will be broadcasting from Illinois. For more information on registering for the Zoom or for in-person registration, visit them here.

Saturday, November 12, 2022 (1-2:30 p.m.) Add a Little Prairie to Your Garden, hosted by the Antioch Garden Club, Antioch, IL. Free and open to the public, but you must register. For information and to inquire about registering for the event, visit the Wild Ones 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. Register here.

A Tallgrass Garden Rain

“Listen!—it rains; it rains! The prayer of the grass is heard… .” –Frederick J. Atwood

******

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.

Torrential rains, Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

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.

Moonflower vine (Ipomoea alba), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

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.

Moonflower vine (Ipomoea alba) on arborvitae (Thuja occidentalis), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

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.

Moonflower vine (Ipomoea alba), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

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….

Ruby-throated hummingbird (Archilochus colubris) on cut-and-come-again zinnias (Zinnia elegans), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

…and at the nectar feeders.

Ruby-throated hummingbird (Archilochus colubris), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

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.

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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!).