“Sudden swarm of snail clouds, brings back the evening’s symmetry.” –Mykola Vorobyov
*****
Sunday marked the end of astronomical winter, as the vernal equinox signaled the transition to spring. The earth spins on its axis, balancing day and night. For a few months ahead, the hours of light will outnumber the hours of darkness.
Wild bergamot (Monarda fistulosa), Belmont Prairie, Downers Grove, IL.
Temperatures soar into the 70s. Spring bulbs, planted as solace during that first pandemic autumn, wake up and unfurl their colors: purple, lemon, cream. I think of Mary Oliver’s poem “Peonies“ in which she asked, “Do you also hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden“? Yes! As I start the coffee, I glimpse a new crocus or jonquil from the kitchen window and rush outside to see it. Welcome back! The return of these flowers reminds me it’s the two-year anniversary of the lock down in Illinois.
We’ve come a long way. Uncertainty still shadows our days.
Prairie and savanna burn, Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
We dig deep. Find resilience. When it isn’t enough, we dig deeper and scrape up more.
But we’re tired.
Big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii), Belmont Prairie, Downers Grove, IL.
We hang on. What else can we do?
Marcescentleaves on an oak , Belmont Prairie, Downers Grove, IL.
As I read the newspaper each morning, my thoughts drift to halfway across the globe.
Sunflower (Helianthus sp.), the national flower of Ukraine, Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
How do we make sense of the senseless? The world seems ripped apart.
Spider silk, Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.
Global pandemics. War. Uncertainty. They remind me to cherish each moment.
In A Natural History of the Senses, Diane Ackerman writes: “So much of our life passes in a comfortable blur. Living on the senses requires an easily triggered sense of marvel, a little extra energy, and most people are lazy about life.Life is something that happens to them while they wait for death.”
Belmont Prairie, Downers Grove, IL.
It takes so little to wake up to wonder. But that “little extra energy” feels drained by the past two years. And yet. I don’t want to squander this time I’ve been given.
Rattlesnake master (Eryngium yuccifolium), Belmont Prairie, Downers Grove, IL.
What a joy it is to have the freedom to rise in the morning and go for a walk, just to admire the world! To look at the sky. To appreciate the clouds, or hunt for the first shoots of new plants. This week, I’ve been reminded of what a privilege it is.
Belmont Prairie, Downers Grove, IL.
There is so much I can’t do. But no matter what is happening in the world, I can pay attention to the beauty around me, no matter how small.
Wild strawberry (Fragaria virginiana), Belmont Prairie, Downers Grove, IL.
I’m looking for signs of change. Memos of hope.
Blue flag iris (Iris versicolor), Belmont Prairie, Downers Grove, IL.
The days pass so quickly. But I can make these moments count.
Pale purple coneflower (Echinacea pallida), Belmont Prairie, Downers Grove, IL.
Cultivating hope this week means digging deep for that “extra energy” to pay attention, even if it’s only a moment in the garden, time at the kitchen window watching the birds, or taking five minutes to admire the sunset. I don’t know any other way to make sense of the senseless.
Sunset, Schulenberg Prairie Savanna, Lisle, IL.
I only know I need to stay present to these moments of wonder.
Keep walking. Keep looking. Stay awake.
*****
The opening quote is a line from Ukrainian poet Mykola Vorobyov (1941-) from the poem Muddy Shore in his collection, “Wild Dog Rose Moon” (translated by Myrosia Stefaniuk). Vorobyyov studied philosophy at the University of Kiev in the 1960s, but was expelled and then monitored by the KGB, who refused to let him publish his work. Today, he is the author of four poetry collections and two children’s books.
March 26, 10-11:30 am — Illinois’ Wild and Wonderful Early Bloomers at Brookfield Garden Club, Brookfield, IL. (Closed event for members only, to inquire about joining the club, click here.)
March 28, 7-8:30pm—Add a Little Prairie to Your Garden at Grayslake Greenery Garden Club, Grayslake, IL. Contact the club here for details.
Even clearing the driveway to drive to the prairie isn’t so bad, knowing a hike awaits.
Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL (2016).
It all feels worthwhile. There are still shadows. But the world seems like a more hopeful place.
Belmont Prairie, Downers Grove, IL.
Full of possibilities. Potential.
Wolf Road Prairie, Westchester, IL (2019)
Because of the snow.
*****
I’m reading the Pulitzer Prize winning, Nobel Prize winning, the you-name-it-she’s-won-it prize-winning poet Louise Glück’s (1943-) latest, Winter Recipes from the Collective. It’s a cold, dark read, with a little bit of hope. Good January poetry. Read more about Glück here.
******
Join Cindy for a program this winter!
“100 Years Around the Morton Arboretum” — Wednesday, January 26, 6:30pm-8:30 pm. Watch history come to life in this special centennial-themed lecture about The Morton Arboretum. Celebrating 100 years, The Morton Arboretum has a fascinating past. Two of the Arboretum’s most knowledgeable historians, author Cindy Crosby and the ever-amazing library collections manager Rita Hassert, will share stories of the Mortons, the Arboretum, and the trees that make this place such a treasure. Join us via Zoom from the comfort of your home. (Now all online). Register here.
February 8-March 1 (Three evenings, 6:30-9pm): The Foundations of Nature Writing Online —Learn the nuts and bolts of excellent nature writing and improve your wordsmithing skills in this online course from The Morton Arboretum. Over the course of four weeks, you will complete three self-paced e-learning modules and attend weekly scheduled Zoom sessions with your instructor and classmates. Whether you’re a blogger, a novelist, a poet, or simply enjoy keeping a personal journal, writing is a fun and meaningful way to deepen your connection to the natural world. February 8, noon Central time: Access self-paced materials online. February 15, 22, and March 1, 6:30 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. Central time: Attend live. Register here.
March 3–Tallgrass Prairie Ecology Online –online class with assignments over 60 days; one live Zoom together. Digitally explore the intricacies of the tallgrass prairie landscape and learn how to restore these signature American ecosystems. Look at the history of this particular type of grassland from the descent of glaciers over the Midwest millions of years ago to the introduction of John Deere’s famous plow to where we are today. We will examine different types of prairie, explore the plant and animal communities of the prairie, and discuss strategies specific to restoring prairies in this engaging online course. Come away with a better understanding of prairies and key insights into how to restore their beauty. You will have 60 days to access the materials. Register here.
“…I looked on the natural world, and I felt joy.” — Michael McCarthy
*****
This is the season of hot chocolate and electric blankets; library books and naps. And yet. When I spend too much time insulated at home, I find myself fretting over the latest newspaper headlines, or worrying about getting sick. Covid has left few of our families untouched.
Thimbleweed (Anemone cylindrica), Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.
What’s the solution? I can’t solve Covid, but I can keep my worries from circling around and around in an endless loop.
Snow on Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
A hike outdoors goes a long way to restoring my spirits. Cold has settled into the Chicago region. A fine layer of snow has covered the grime along the roads and left everything shimmering white. The air smells like clean laundry. The ice has become manageable under a few days of concentrated sunlight.
Prairie pond at Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
It’s beautiful outside! Despite the chill. Consider these three reasons to brave the cold and go for a prairie hike this week.
Shadows and Shapes
Snow backdrops prairie plants and transforms them.
Unknown vine; East Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
It backlights the tallgrass; silhouetting wildflowers and grasses.
Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Familiar plants cast blue-gray shadows, giving them a different dimension.
East Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Even if you’ve seen a plant a hundred times before…
Common milkweed (Asclepia syriaca), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
…it takes on a winter persona, and seems new.
Pale purple coneflower (Echinacea pallida), Belmont Prairie, Downers Grove, IL.
Snow shadows lend the prairie a sense of mystery.
Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
The spark and glaze of ice turn your hike into something magical.
Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Breathe in. The cold air numbs the worry. Breathe out. Feel the terrors of the day fade away.
For now. A moment of peace.
Winter Traffic
During these pandemic times its comforting to know we live in community. Small prairie creatures—usually invisible— are made visible by their tracks.
Busy intersection, Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Tunnels are evidence of more life humming under the snow.
Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
I leave my tracks alongside theirs. It’s a reminder that we all share the world, even when we don’t see each other.
Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Prairie Skies
Winter has a way of changing the prairie sky from moment to moment. It might be brilliant blue one day, or crowded with puffy cumulus clouds the next.
Belmont Prairie, Downers Grove, IL.
Wild geese fly by, their bowling pin silhouettes humorous when directly overhead; the clamor raucous even in the distance as they fly from prairie to soccer field to golf course.
Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Skies might be soft with sheep shapes on one day…
Belmont Prairie, Downers Grove, IL.
Or blindingly bright on the next stroll through.
East Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
The prairie gives us the advantage of a 360-degree view of the sky. Its immensity reminds us of how very small….so small…. our worries are in the great span of time and space.
East Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
As we hike, our sense of wonder is rekindled.
Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Our fear disappears. Or at least, it lessens.
East Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Our mind rests. The well of contentment, seriously depleted, begins to fill. And then, we feel it again.
Joy.
*****
The opening quote is from the book The Moth Snowstorm: Nature and Joy by Michael McCarthy (1947-), a long-time British environmental editor for The Independent and writer for The Times. You can listen to his interview with Krista Tippett for “On Being” here.
*****
Join Cindy for a program this winter!
“100 Years Around the Morton Arboretum” — Wednesday, January 26, 6:30pm-8:30 pm. Watch history come to life in this special centennial-themed lecture about The Morton Arboretum. Celebrating 100 years, The Morton Arboretum has a fascinating past. Two of the Arboretum’s most knowledgeable historians, author Cindy Crosby and the ever-amazing library collections manager Rita Hassert, will share stories of the Mortons, the Arboretum, and the trees that make this place such a treasure. Join us via Zoom from the comfort of your home. (Now all online). Register here.
February 8-March 1 (Three evenings, 6:30-9pm): The Foundations of Nature Writing Online —Learn the nuts and bolts of excellent nature writing and improve your wordsmithing skills in this online course from The Morton Arboretum. Over the course of four weeks, you will complete three self-paced e-learning modules and attend weekly scheduled Zoom sessions with your instructor and classmates. Whether you’re a blogger, a novelist, a poet, or simply enjoy keeping a personal journal, writing is a fun and meaningful way to deepen your connection to the natural world. February 8, noon Central time: Access self-paced materials online. February 15, 22, and March 1, 6:30 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. Central time: Attend live. Register here.
March 3–Tallgrass Prairie Ecology Online –online class with assignments over 60 days; one live Zoom together. Digitally explore the intricacies of the tallgrass prairie landscape and learn how to restore these signature American ecosystems. Look at the history of this particular type of grassland from the descent of glaciers over the Midwest millions of years ago to the introduction of John Deere’s famous plow to where we are today. We will examine different types of prairie, explore the plant and animal communities of the prairie, and discuss strategies specific to restoring prairies in this engaging online course. Come away with a better understanding of prairies and key insights into how to restore their beauty. You will have 60 days to access the materials. Register here.
*****
Also — check out this free program offered by Wild Ones! (Not one of Cindy’s but she’s attending!)
The Flora and Fauna of Bell Bowl PrairieFebruary 17, 7-8:30 p.m. Join other prairie lovers to learn about the flora and fauna of Bell Bowl Prairie, slated for destruction by the Chicago-Rockford International Airport this spring. It’s free, but you must register. More information here. Scroll down to “Upcoming Events” and you’ll see the February 17 Webinar with the always-awesome Rock Valley Wild Ones native plants group. Watch for the Zoom link coming soon on their site! Or contact Wild Ones Rock River Valley Chapter here. Be sure and visit http://www.savebellbowlprairie.org to see how you can help.
“Year’s end is neither an end nor a beginning but a going on, with all the wisdom that experience can instill in us.” —Hal Borland
******
And so 2021 comes to a close.
Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
On the prairie, the tallgrass colors transition to their winter hues.
Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
The prairie is stripped to bare essence.
Common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca)and Canada goldenrod (Solidago canadensis), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
The deep roots of prairie plants continue to hold the tallgrass through the winter.
Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
As Paul Gruchow wrote, “The work that matters does not always show.”
Big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii), Schulenberg Prairie, The MortonArboretum, Lisle, IL.
2021 has been another tough year. We’ve attempted to make each day meaningful in the midst of uncertainty and loss.
Ball gall, Lyman Woods prairie kame, Downers Grove, IL.
We’ve pulled from our reserve strength until we wonder if there is anything left. Trying to keep a sense of normalcy. Trying to get our work done. Trying. Trying. It all seems like too much sometimes, doesn’t it? In When Things Fall Apart, Pema Chӧdrӧn writes, “To be fully alive, fully human, is to be continually thrown out of the nest.” The past two years have made us realize how comfortable that “nest” used to be.
Prairie dock (Silphium terabinthinaceum), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
But we keep moving forward, little by little. Reaching for that extra bit of patience. Putting away the media for a time out. Setting aside a morning to go for a walk and just be.
We’ve also learned we are more resilient than we ever knew we could be.
Thimbleweed (Anemone cylindrica), Lyman Woods, Downers Grove, IL.
In 2019, we had no idea of the challenges ahead.
Lyman Woods, Downers Grove, IL.
And yet, here we are. Meeting those challenges. Exhausted? You bet! It’s not always pretty, but we keep getting up in the morning and getting things done.
Schulenberg Prairie Savanna, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
Trying to keep our sense of humor, even when there doesn’t seem to be much to laugh about.
Random tree creation found in Lyman Woods, Downers Grove, IL.
With less margin, we are learning to untangle what’s most important from what we can let go of.
Dogbane or Indian hemp (Apocynum cannabinum), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
We are making life work, even if it’s messy. Knowing that whatever is ahead in 2022, we’ll give it our best shot.
Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.
We’ll hike—the prairies, the woodlands, or wherever we find ourselves—aware of the beauty of the natural world. We’ve never appreciated the outdoors spaces like we have these past months.
Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
We’ll give thanks for joys, big and small. Grateful in new ways for what we have.
Keep on hiking. The road has been long, but we’ve got this. Together.
New England asters (Symphyotrichum novae-angliae) in late December, Lyman Woods, Downers Grove, IL.
Happy New Year!
*****
Hal Borland (1900-1978) was a naturalist and journalist born in Nebraska. He is the author of many books of fiction, non-fiction, poetry, and plays, and wrote a tremendous number of nature observation editorials for TheNew York Times. He was also a recipient of the John Burroughs Medal for Distinguished Nature Writing. I’m so grateful for his “through the year” books— I love books that follow the months and seasons! Thanks to blog reader Helen Boertje, who generously shared her copies of Borland’s books with me. I’m so grateful.
****
Making a New Year’s resolution? Don’t forget Bell Bowl Prairie! Commit to doing one action on the list you’ll find at Save Bell Bowl Prairie, and help us save this rare prairie remnant from the bulldozers.
*****
Happy New Year, and thank you for reading in 2021. What a year it’s been! I’m grateful to have this community of readers who love the natural world. I’m looking forward to virtually hiking the prairies with you in 2022.Thank you for your encouragement, and for your love of the natural world.
“I can stop what I am doing long enough to see where I am, who I am there with, and how awesome the place is.” —Barbara Brown Taylor
******
Late November.
Sandhill cranes cry high above the prairie, scribbling indecipherable messages in the sky. They’re on the move south.
Sandhill cranes (Antigone canadensis), Glen Ellyn, IL (Spring 2021).
I’ll scan the skies the next few weeks, admiring them as they leave. The prairie skies will be emptier this winter when they’re gone. Months from now, I’ll see them again, heading north in the spring. What will the world look like then? It’s impossible to know.
The prairie in November.
I hike the prairie, deep in thought. It’s so easy to focus on what is being lost. November, with its seasonal slide into long nights and short days, seems to invite that. I have to remind myself to pay attention to what is in front of me. What the season offers. Seeds. Everywhere, the prairie is an explosion of seeds.
Silky seeds.
Common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca).
Flat seeds.
Compass plant (Silphium laciniatum).
Silvery seedheads.
Mountain mint (Pycnanthemum virginianum).
Seeds like pom poms.
Savanna blazing star (Liatris scariosa nieuwlandii).
Seeds born aloft, in spent flower heads, like so many antenna.
Wild bergamot (Monarda fistulosa).
Seedheads are skeletal. Architectural.
Sweet joe pye weed (Eutrochium purpureum).
Seeds are impressionistic.
Bridge over Willoway Brook.
Seeds reflected.
Illinois bundleflower (Desmanthus illinoensis).
Seeds wind-directed.
Prairie dropseed (Sporobolus heterolepis).
Bird-nibbled seeds.
Gray-headed coneflower (Ratibida pinnata).
Seeds feathered.
Little bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium).
Seeds flying high in the prairie sky.
Prairie dock (Silphium terabinthinaceum).
Seeds caught in mid-fall. Almost there. Almost.
Black walnut (Juglans nigra) in American bladdernut shrub (Staphylea trifolia).
The pandemic has dragged on and on. Just when I thought we’d turned a corner—almost!—it feels like we’re headed in the wrong direction again. Seems we’re not out of the woods yet.
Schulenberg Prairie Savanna.
It’s easy to get distracted, worrying about the future. Sometimes my mind turns over my fears in a relentless cycle. Reading the newspaper over breakfast just fuels the fire. I forget to remind myself of all I have to be grateful for.
Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum.
Family. Friends. Food on the table. A roof over my head. This prairie to help care for.
Schulenberg Prairie entrance, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
It helps me to list these things. And then, to remind myself what’s good and lovely in the world.
Bridge over Willoway Brook.
I’m thankful to see the prairie seeds.
Big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii).
They remind me that another season has passed.
Oak (Quercus spp.) leaves, Schulenberg Prairie Savanna.
A new season is just months away. Seeing the prairie give its energy to creating life through its seeds fills me with hope. Such a cycle! What a marvel.
The prairie in November.
Here, in the tallgrass, I see a world full of color. Motion. Sound. Beauty. The only tallgrass headlines are “Wow!”
The prairie in November.
How wonderful it is to be alive.
Schulenberg Prairie Savanna.
I walk, and I look, and I walk some more. How amazing to have the luxury of going to a beautiful place, with time just to think. How grateful I am to have a strong knee now, to take me down these trails that just three years ago gave me tremendous pain to hike.
Prairie two-track.
How overwhelmed with thanks I am that my body is cancer-free, after two years of uncertainty and fear. How grateful I am for this reprieve. There are no guarantees. We can only, as the late writer Barry Lopez wrote, keep “leaning into the light.”
Stiff goldenrod (Oligoneuron rigidum).
Your list of worries is probably different than mine. So, I imagine, is your list of what you’re thankful for. I hope this week finds you in a good place. I hope you have your own list of what brings you joy, in the midst of whatever you are dealing with.
The prairie in November.
This week I’m going to put aside my worries about the future. I’m going to focus on joy. There’s a lot to be thankful for. The prairie reminds me of this. I hope you can go for a hike, wherever you find yourself, and be reminded, too.
Happy Thanksgiving!
******
All photos this week unless otherwise noted are from the Schulenberg Prairie at The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
*****
The opening quote is from Barbara Brown Taylor’s (1951-) An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith. She is also the author of Learning to Walk in the Dark and many other books.
*****
Join Cindy for a program or class!
Winter Prairie Wonders: Discover the December Delights of the Tallgrass!Dec. 3 (Friday) 10-11:30 am (Central): Make yourself a cup of hot tea, snuggle under a warm afghan, and join prairie steward and writer Cindy Crosby virtually for this interactive online immersion into the tallgrass prairie in winter. See the aesthetic beauty of the snow-covered grasses and wildflowers in cold weather through colorful images of winter on the prairies. Follow animal tracks to see what creatures are out and about, and see how many you can identify. Learn how birds, pollinators, and mammals use winter prairie plants; the seeds for nourishment and the grasses and spent wildflowers for overwintering, protection, and cover. Then, listen as Cindy shares brief readings about the prairie in winter that will engage your creativity and nourish your soul. This is scheduled as a Zoom event through The Morton Arboretum. Register here.
Please visit your local independent bookstore (Illinois’ friends: The Arboretum Store in Lisle and The Book Store in Glen Ellyn) to purchase or order Tallgrass Conversations: In Search of the Prairie Spiritfor the holidays. Discover full-color prairie photographs and essays from Cindy and co-author Thomas Dean.
*****
Save Bell Bowl Prairie! Visit the website to find out how you can help keep this critical remnant from being bulldozed in Illinois. One phone call, one letter, or sharing the information with five friends will help us save it.
“Show’s over, folks. And didn’t October do a bang-up job? Crisp breezes, full-throated cries of migrating geese, low-floating coral moon. Nothing left but fool’s gold in the trees.” —Maggie Dietz
******
It’s transition week on the prairie.
Bee balm (Monarda fistulosa), Searls Park Prairie, Rockford, IL.
This past weekend in the Chicago region we had our first freeze warning. In my garden, I’ve long given up on the tender perennials. Basil and zucchini were zapped by frosts last week. But parsley, rainbow chard, and zinnias still hang on, as do some overlooked cherry tomatoes. I plucked infant “Giant Italian” green peppers from the plants, chopped and froze them. Then, I picked bowlfuls of hard green tomatoes which slowly ripen on the kitchen counter. Each one is a memory of a warmer season past.
October is over. Welcome, November.
Now, the leaves flame into color, then drift through the cold air like confetti in brisk winds.
Maple (Acer sp.), The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
Now, the late prairie wildflowers transform to seed or are plundered by birds.
Searls Park Prairie, Rockford, IL.
Grasses, nibbled and worn by weather and wind, sprinkle their progeny on the prairie soil.
Indian grass (Sorghastrum nutans), Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.
It’s all about the seeds.
Stiff goldenrod (Oligoneuron rigidum), Searls Park Prairie, Rockford, IL.
And will be, until fire touches the dry grass and wildflowers. Months away.
Prairie planting, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
In the mornings, I brew large carafes of coffee and sip slowly while reading the paper. The news is both encouraging—and disheartening. The pandemic seems to be winding down. Vaccines are widely available. And yet. As of November 1, more than 5 million have died from Covid-19. Who would have imagined this, just two years ago? Later, I pull out my journals and revisit those early days of March 2020, when the pandemic began. Wiping down groceries. Waving at our grandkids from the driveway. Counting how many rolls of toilet paper we had left. It’s been a long haul.
Searls Park Prairie at the end of October, Rockford, IL.
Despite the grim news, I feel hopeful going into the winter of 2021. Much more optimistic than I’ve been since the pandemic’s first days.
Searls Park Prairie, Rockford, IL.
There was good news over breakfast. On Monday, November 1, Chicago-Rockford International Airport was to bulldoze the Bell Bowl Prairie. At the eleventh hour, thanks to the tireless work of many dedicated people, it received a stay of execution until March 1, 2022. Perhaps not the type of closure we hoped for. But a step in the right direction. You can read more here.
Chicago-Rockford International Airport, home to Bell Bowl Prairie, Rockford, IL.
Hope. Optimism.
It feels good to tap into those emotions again.
Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.
The prairie walks I take are a part of that optimism. They’ve kept my spirits up through the pandemic. Kept me in touch with the wonders that are always all around, no matter how grim the headlines.
Road to Searls Park Prairie, Rockford, IL.
I hope wherever you find yourself, you’ll go for a walk today. Pause. Soak up whatever beauty you see.
Then, say a “thank you” for wonders, big and small. And “thank you” for a little good news.
******
The opening lines for today’s post are from the poem “November” by Maggie Dietz is a native of Green Bay, Wisconsin. Her first book of poems, Perennial Fall, won the Jane Kenyon Award. Read more about Dietz here. She lives in New Hampshire.
*****
Thank you to everyone who helped write letters, make phone calls, create art, music, and poetry, and give time to the Save Bell Bowl Prairie campaign. The prairie isn’t safe yet, but there is hope for its future.
*****
Join Cindy for a class or program!
Winter Prairie Wonders: Discover the December Delights of the Tallgrass!Dec. 3 (Friday) 10-11:30 am (CST): Make yourself a cup of hot tea, snuggle under a warm afghan, and join prairie steward and writer Cindy Crosby virtually for this interactive online immersion into the tallgrass prairie in winter. See the aesthetic beauty of the snow-covered grasses and wildflowers in cold weather through colorful images of winter on the prairies. Follow animal tracks to see what creatures are out and about, and see how many you can identify. Learn how birds, pollinators, and mammals use winter prairie plants; the seeds for nourishment and the grasses and spent wildflowers for overwintering, protection, and cover. Then, listen as Cindy shares brief readings about the prairie in winter that will engage your creativity and nourish your soul. This is scheduled as a Zoom event through The Morton Arboretum. Register here.
“The little bluestem was exquisite with turquoise and garnet and chartreuse; and the big bluestem waved its turkeyfeet of deep purple high against the October sky, past the warm russet of the Indian grass.” — May Theilgaard Watts
******
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Rain at last. A welcome opening to October! Sure, we’ve had a few intermittent showers just west of Chicago in September, but rainfall is far below normal. The garden shows it. My prairie patch—so resilient—is also suffering. No amount of watering with the hose is quite the same as a good cloudburst.
Indian grass (Sorghastrum nutans), Belmont Prairie, Downers Grove, IL.
Ahhhh. The air smells newly-washed…as it is. As I walk the neighborhood, the leaves drift down, released by wind and water.
Fallen leaves, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Welcome, rain! Stay awhile. We need you.
Road through Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
Dry conditions suit prairie gentians. They linger on, adding their bright color to an increasingly sepia landscape.
Pasture thistle (Cirsium discolor), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
Bright male goldfinches of spring and summer are gradually changing to the olive oil hues of autumn and winter. When I see them working over the seed pods in my backyard, I’m glad I left my prairie plants and some garden plants in seed for them. They love the common evening primrose seeds.
This past week, the dragonflies put on a last-minute show. Most will be gone in mid-October; either migrated south, or their life cycle completed. It’s been great to see meadowhawks again. Usually ubiquitous in the summer and autumn, this group of skimmers have gone missing from my dragonfly routes on both prairies where I monitor this season. Suddenly, they are out in numbers. Mating in the wheel position…
Autumn meadowhawks (Sympetrum vicinum) in the wheel position, Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
…then flying to a good spot to oviposit, or lay eggs. Everywhere I turn, more autumn meadowhawks!
Autumn meadowhawks (Sympetrum vicinum) in “tandem oviposition”, Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
Ensuring new generations of meadowhawks to come on the prairie. A sign of hope. I love seeing that brilliant red—the bright scarlet of many of the species. Autumn meadowhawks have yellow-ish legs, which help separate them from other members of this difficult-to-identify group. The white-faced meadowhawks have, well…. you know.
White-faced Meadowhawk (Sympetrum obtrusum), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
The face is unmistakeable. Many of the meadowhawks are confusing to ID, so I was grateful to see my first band-winged meadowhawk of the year last week, with its distinctive amber patches.
Band-winged Meadowhawk (Sympetrum semicinctum), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
If only all meadowhawks were this easy to distinguish as these three species! It’s a tough genus. I’m glad they showed up this season.
Other insects are busy in different pursuits. Some skeletonize plants, leaving emerald cut lace.
Northern leopard frogs, now in their adult stage, prepare for hibernation. As I hike through the prairie wetlands, looking for dragonflies, they spring through the prairie grasses and leap into the water.
Northern leopard frog (Lithobates pipiens), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
Whenever I see them, I’m reminded of the Frog & Toadbooks I love to read to my grandchildren, and the value of true friendships, as evinced in those stories. Strong friendships, worth hanging on to.
Familiar bluet (Enallagma civile), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.
As we begin to navigate our second pandemic autumn, I feel a renewed gratitude for close friends, an appreciation for family, and an appreciation for the peace and solace to be found in the natural world.
False solomon’s seal (Maianthemum racemosum),Schulenberg Prairie Savanna, Lisle, IL.
I can’t wait to see what the prairie holds for us in October.
Schulenberg Prairie trail, Lisle, IL.
Why not go see for yourself?
*****
The opening quote is from Reading the Landscape of Americaby May Theilgaard Watts (1893-1975). Watts was the first naturalist on staff at The Morton Arboretum in Lisle, IL, and a poet, author, and newspaper columnist. Her drawings and words continue to illuminate how we understand a sense of “place.”
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Join Cindy for a program or class!
Wednesday, October 13, 10-11:30 a.m. (CT): “A Cultural History of Trees in America” ONLINE! Offered through The Morton Arboretum. Join Cindy from the comfort of your couch and discover the way trees have influenced our history, our music and literature, and the way we think about the world. Register here.
Friday,December 3: WINTER PRAIRIE WONDERS–ONLINE, 10-11:30 a.m. (CT): Discover the December Delights of the Tallgrass! Make yourself a cup of hot tea, snuggle under a warm afghan, and join prairie steward and writer Cindy Crosby virtually for this interactive online immersion into the tallgrass prairie in winter. See the aesthetic beauty of the snow-covered grasses and wildflowers in cold weather through colorful images of winter on the prairies. Follow animal tracks to see what creatures are out and about, and see how many you can identify. Learn how birds, pollinators, and mammals use winter prairie plants; the seeds for nourishment and the grasses and spent wildflowers for overwintering, protection, and cover. Then, listen as Cindy shares brief readings about the prairie in winter that will engage your creativity and nourish your soul. Registration information here.
“The afternoon is bright, with spring in the air, a mild March afternoon, with the breath of April stirring… .”—Antonio Machado
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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?
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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.
“To the mouse, snow means freedom from want and fear…. To a rough-legged hawk, a thaw means freedom from want and fear.” —Aldo Leopold
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Drip. Drip. Drip.
I’m raking snow off our roof when I hear it. The sun broke through the gray haze like a white hot dime an hour ago, and I’m grateful for its feeble warmth. The gutters groan and bend under their weight of ice. I’ve knocked most of the icicles down, pretty though they are—-lining the roof’s edge like a winter holiday postcard.
Icicles, Cindy’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
We have a foot and a half of snow on our roof. Uh, oh! For the first time in our 23 years of living in the Chicago Region, we’re concerned enough to borrow a friend’s roof rake and try to do something about it. As I rake, the snow avalanches down the shingles and I’m sprayed with white stuff. It’s like being in a snowball fight with yourself. The squirrels wait in the trees nearby, ready to return to their assault on the birdfeeders when I finish. I try to imagine what they’re thinking.
Fox squirrel (Sciurus niger), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
Then I hear it again. Drip. Drip. Drip.
The sound of thaw.
Icicle, Cindy’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.
The prairie, slumbering under her weight of white, hears the sound. There’s a faint stirring in the ice, especially where the sun strikes in full.
Willoway Brook, Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
Winter is far from over; its icy clasp on the prairie will linger for many more weeks. And yet. There’s something in the air this week, despite the cold haze that hangs over the tallgrass.
Russell R. Kirt Prairie in late February, College of DuPage Natural Areas, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Certain sounds—that “drip!” Water trickling in a prairie stream under the ice. Snow melt. The smell of something fresh.
Ice on the Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL. (2019)
A male cardinal sings his courting call. I stop in my tracks. He doesn’t seem to be daunted by the snow flurries, seemingly stuck on “repeat” this week. He knows what’s coming.
Above the ground, the prairie grasses and wildflowers are smothered in snow drifts. They look bowed and broken by the wild weather thrown at them over the past few months.
Cindy’s backyard prairie patch at the end of February, Glen Ellyn, IL.
A few stalwart plants stubbornly defy the storms and stand tall.
Compass plant (Silphium laciniatum), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage Natural Areas, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Their long roots—-15 feet deep or more—begin to stir. You can almost hear a whisper in the dry, brittle leaves. Soon. Soon.
It’s been a beautiful winter.
Ice on Willoway Brook, Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
But a long one, as winters tend to seem when you’re half past February and not quite close enough to March.
Russell R. Kirt Prairie, viewed through the piled parking lot snow at College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.
Even as the snow is grimed with soot by car exhaust along the streets, there’s beauty. All around, the particular delights of February. The stark silhouettes of grass stems…
Big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage Natural Areas, Glen Ellyn, IL.
…the prairie’s geometric lines and angles; devoid of frills and flounces.
Winter at Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL. (2016)
The gray-blues and rusts of the prairie landscape, seem intensified at this time of year. Everything is clarified. Distilled.
Perhaps because of the long grind of the pandemic, this winter has seemed longer and gloomier than usual. Colder. More difficult.
Hidden Lake prairie plantings, Downers Grove, IL (2019).
But when I open the newspaper over breakfast, the headlines seem less grim. A faint whiff of optimism tinges conversations with friends. I feel hope in the air; hope that we are nearing the end of our long haul through this dark night.
Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.
My spirits lift when I see the signs, scent the smells, hear the sounds of a new season on the way.
Spring is coming. Do you sense the thaw? Can you feel it?
Dickcissel (Spiza americana), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL. (2017)
I’m ready.
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Aldo Leopold (1887-1948), whose quote opens this blog post, is best known for his book of collected essays, A Sand County Almanac, published a year after his death. Today, it is considered a critical foundation for conservation and wilderness thinking. Leopold’s book has sold more than two million copies and influences many who work in wildlife and prairie conservation today. Another favorite quote: “A thing is right when it tends to preserve the integrity, stability and beauty of the biotic community. It is wrong when it tends otherwise.” Read more about him here.
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Last Chance to Register for February 24 Program! Join me online from anywhere in the world via Zoom.
February 24, 7-8:30 p.m. CST: The Prairie in Art and Literature– Online. The tallgrass prairie is usually thought of for its diverse community of plants, animals, and insects. Yet, it is also an inspiration for a creative community! In this interactive online talk, natural history author and prairie steward Cindy Crosby will explore historical and contemporary writers and artists, musicians, and other creatives working in the prairie genre: from Neil Young to Willa Cather to graphic comic artists, quilters, and jewelers expressing the prairie through their work. See the prairie in a new light! Come away inspired to appreciate and express your love of the tallgrass as you enjoy learning about this prairie “community.” Offered by The Morton Arboretum: Register here.
“There are simply no answers to some of the great pressing questions. You continue to live them out, making your life a worthy expression of leaning into the light.”—Barry Lopez
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And so we come to the last days of 2020. Hope glimmers dimly on the horizon, but the darkness is still with us.
Christmas Star, just past conjunction, Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.
As we step through the shadows into 2021…
Trail through the Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
…we’re reassured by the orderly progression of the seasons. On the prairie, little bluestem paints patches of red and rust.
Little bluestem (Schizychrium scoparium), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
I think of the novelist Willa Cather’s words: “I wanted to walk straight on through the red grass and over the edge of the world, which could not be very far away.”
We marvel at ordinary pleasures as simple as sunlight bright on an ice-filled stream.
Willoway Brook, Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
We welcome back the longer daylight hours—more of an idea now than a reality, but gradually becoming noticeable.
No matter what twists and turns lie ahead…
Wild River Grape (Vitis riparia), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
…there is solace in the beauty of the natural world.
And—a renewed capacity for joy and wonder. No matter the circumstances. No matter what is in the news each day. Despite the challenges the new year will bring.
Pasture rose hips (Rosa carolina), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
Keep paying attention.
Indian grass (Sorghastrum nutans), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
Keep hiking.
Prairie plantings along the DuPage River, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
Goodbye, 2020.
Late figwort (Scrophularia marilandica), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.
Welcome, 2021.
Happy New Year!
*****
The opening quote is by author Barry Lopez (1945-2020), who passed away on Christmas Day. If you’ve not read his books, a good one to begin with this winter is Arctic Dreams, which won the National Book Award in 1986. He wrote compellingly about wolves and wilderness. Read more about him here.
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Please note: As of this week, I’ve moved all photo identifications and locations to captions under the images. Enjoy!
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Join Cindy in 2021 for an online class! See http://www.cindycrosby.com for a complete list of virtual offerings.All classes and programs with Cindy this winter and spring are offered online only.
January 14-February 4 (Four Thursdays) 6:30-8:30 pm CST Nature Writing II Online. Deepen your connection to nature and your writing skills in this intermediate online workshop from The Morton Arboretum. This interactive class is the next step for those who’ve completed the Nature Writing Workshop (N095), or for those with some foundational writing experience looking to further their expertise within a supportive community of fellow nature writers. Over the course of four live, online sessions, your instructor will present readings, lessons, writing assignments, and sharing opportunities. You’ll have the chance to hear a variety of voices, styles, and techniques as you continue to develop your own unique style. Work on assignments between classes and share your work with classmates for constructive critiques that will strengthen your skill as a writer. Ask your questions, take risks, and explore in this fun and supportive, small-group environment. Register here.
February 24, 7-8:30 CST: The Prairie in Art and Literature Online. The tallgrass prairie is usually thought of for its diverse community of plants, animals, and insects. Yet, it is also an inspiration for a creative community! In this interactive online talk, natural history author and prairie steward Cindy Crosby will explore historical and contemporary writers and artists, musicians, and other creatives working in the prairie genre: from Neil Young to Willa Cather to graphic comic artists and jewelers expressing the prairie through their work. See the prairie in a new light! Come away inspired to appreciate and express your love of the tallgrass as you enjoy learning about this prairie “community.” Offered by The Morton Arboretum: “Register here.
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 