Prairie Birds and Blooms

“When trying to identify birds it is important to remember the following motto: I don’t know.”—Chris Earley

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What a beautiful week it is shaping up to be in the Chicago region. Spring has landed in full force. Last night, a crescent moon set in the west, with Venus and Mars nearby. Gemini constellation stars Castor and Pollux glittered bright in the night. Summer! It seems only a breath away.

Waxing crescent moon with bright Venus on the left, then Castor and Pollux glowing just above and Mars at the top left, Glen Ellyn, IL.

The tallgrass prairie, rejuvenated by fire, is aflame with wildflowers.

Wild lupine (Lupinus perennis) and golden alexanders (Zizia aurea), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.

It’s easy to be motivated to go for a prairie hike with temperatures in the 70s, few bugs out, and cool breezes.

Cream wild indigo (Baptisia bracteata), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.

Each day on the May prairie is an exercise in discovery, from the first tiny Eastern Forktail damselflies that show up…

Eastern forktail damselfly (male) (Ischnura verticalis), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.

…to the big charismatic megafauna, lumbering through the tallgrass.

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

In the mornings, I wake up and sit with my coffee on the back porch where I indulge my latest obsession: Merlin Sound ID, part of the Merlin Bird ID free cell phone app. A decade and a half ago, when cell phones became a thing, I was a reluctant adopter. But the nature apps have changed all that. Each morning, I open up the “bird sound” option on Merlin and let it record as I get my caffeine fix. What an eye-opener—especially during spring migration! I’ve never seen some of the birds Merlin tells me are out and about in my yard; blackpoll warbler, Lincoln’s sparrow (!!), Tennessee warbler, northern mockingbird. But, when I see the name light up and then, listen for that bird calling, I’m often able to match the song to the bird.

Just another day in the backyard (Glen Ellyn, IL).

I keep my Kenn Kaufman Birds of North America and Peterson Field Guide to Birds open by my side and read about each bird’s habitat, food preference, and migratory habits when the bird shows up. What fun! My binoculars are at the ready, as is my camera, but so far I’ve failed at getting good photos from my porch of anything other than the usual cardinals, goldfinches, house sparrows and downy woodpeckers at the feeders. My photos of more elusive birds tend to look like this:

How come so many cool birds hang out in the upper tree canopy? Shy, maybe? Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

The neighbors are starting to get nervous as I glass the their trees with my binoculars, or stand at the edges of their lawns with my camera. So far, I’ve not actually gone into their yards, but it’s only a matter of time.

Our backyard feeders are filled and ready for customers. The first hummingbird showed up last Wednesday to check out the territory. I love the ruby-throated hummingbirds! We plant a lot of wildflowers just for them. As summer heats up, they’ll swarm the zinnias, cardinal flowers, wild bergamot, butterfly weed, and even the blazing stars. The sugar water is just a bonus.

Ruby-throated hummingbird (Archilochus colubris), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL. (2016)

Welcome back, little hummers.

I’ve also been watching for orioles in our backyard this spring, without any luck.

Baltimore orioles (Icterus galbula), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL. (2020)

Instead, we’ve had this backyard visitor… .

Eastern fox squirrel (Sciurus niger), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL (2020).

Ah, well. At least I can get a good photo of this species. Always willing to pose for food!

A few weeks ago, John Harris, my prairie co-steward, suggested turning the Merlin sound app on during work mornings to help our little band of prairie volunteers understand what birds are around us as we pull weeds. (Thanks, John). Wow! The list is long—much longer than I would have dreamed. Where before I might notice a bluebird or a cardinal flying along the edges of the prairie, I’m now tuning in to a long list of feathered members of our tallgrass community formerly unknown to me by sight or sound.

It’s a great reminder of how invisible much of the natural world is to us, especially when we’re older and our hearing isn’t as good as it once was. Using the app is teaching me to pay attention more closely, using my sense of hearing. Listening has has not always been my first “sense” when hiking or spending time outdoors. In the suburbs, I’m often trying not to hear things: jet noise, highway clamor, the whine of leaf blowers and lawn mowers. Tuning into sounds instead of tuning noise out is an intriguing idea.

Balsam ragwort (Packera paupercula), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.

Is the Merlin app perfect? Probably not (although it’s spot on so far). But it’s been a launching point for learning. It wakes me up to wonder.

Swallows (possibly tree swallows —Tachycineta bicolor), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.

I love that. So much of my sense of wonder has been sparked by what I see, not what I hear.

Wild lupine (Lupinus perennis), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.

Listening is a new adventure.

Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.

The only downside? My friends and family are going to have to put up with endless chatter about another one of my “enthusiasms.”

Meadow anemone (Anemone canadensis), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.

But when I think of ways I can spend my time, attending to birdsong is a pretty good use of my hours.

Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.

Anything that brings a little more wonder in my world—even my cell phone—is always welcome.

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The opening quote is from Guelph Arboretum (Ontario) interpretive biologist Chris G. Earley (1968-) from his charming book, Sparrows & Finches of the Great Lakes Region & Eastern North America, written for adult readers (Thank you John Heneghan for the book loan). I’m a big fan of Earley’s books, especially his children’s guide Dragonflies: Catching—Identifying–How and Where They Live (2013). I always come away delighted and with a new nugget of knowledge.

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Join Cindy for a program or class!

The Tallgrass Prairie: An Introduction–on National Prairie Day! Saturday, June 3, 1-2:30 p.m. CT, Sterling Farmer’s Market (at the Pavilion) in Sterling, IL. Free and open to the public. Indoors in case of rain.

Literary Gardens Online –-Wednesday, June 7, 7-8:15 p.m. CT, Bensenville Public Library, Bensenville, IL, via Zoom. Free but you must register to receive the link (participation may be limited to first sign ups). For more information and to register, contact the library at 630-766-4642.

“In Conversation Online with Robin Wall Kimmerer,” June 21, 2023, 7-8 pm CT via Zoom. Brought to you by “Illinois Libraries Present.” Number of registrations available may be limited, so register here soon.

Beginning Dragonfly and Damselfly ID — Friday, June 23, 8:30am-12:30 pm CT, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL. Registration coming soon. This class is split between classroom and field work. Fun!

More classes and programs at www.cindycrosby.com

A Spring Prairie Ballot

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

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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?

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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.

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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

A Wish for Prairie

“Fire is part of our identity as humans. It’s our ecological signature. —Stephen Pyne

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It’s that time of year, all across the Chicago region.

Fire season.

Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL prescribed burn. (2021)

The tallgrass prairie remnants and plantings long for fire. They lie flattened, moldering into the ice. A few seeds hang on in the gusty winds.

Switchgrass (Panicum virgatum), St. James Farm, Forest Preserve of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL.

The prairie streams are caught between freeze and thaw. So much tension! It’s a season of transition.

St. James Farm, Forest Preserve of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL.

Each evening, prairie stewards and staff check the forecast. They look for the right combination of humidity and temperature. Wind speed. Wind direction. And…are there enough staff and volunteers to put fire on the ground? The signs of spring are here. It’s time.

American robin (Turdus migratorius), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

In my backyard, I slop through iced mud, checking the garden and prairie plantings for signs of life. I make a mental note to add more compost and topsoil to the beds, which have settled over the winter and are no longer as deep as I’d like.

The fall-planted garlic cloves have sent up shoots.

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

And—what’s this? The evergreen leaves of my prairie alum root and prairie smoke have vanished! Possibly the work of the chubby bunny I saw under the bird feeders, nibbling on seeds. Ah, well. We’ll see if the damage is fatal in a few weeks. I move on. The marsh marigolds are already leafing out around my small pond. They’ll bloom bright yellow in a week or two.

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

And speaking of gold, the first miniature daffodils are in bloom, planted among the prairie dropseed. So pretty! I aim for 70 percent native plants in my yard, and about 30 percent traditional garden plants and vegetables. I’m getting there.

Daffodil (Narcissus sp.), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

After scanning the garden each day, I hike the forest preserves and prairie remnants, soaking up the last views of prairie before it goes up in flames. Today I’m at St. Jame’s Farm, part of the DuPage Forest Preserve in Warrenville, IL. This almost 600 acre preserve was once the country retreat for the wealthy McCormick family, who purchased it in the 1920s. They favored horses and show cows so as well as numerous riding trails, indoor and outdoor horse show arenas, and barns, there are also structures left over from the 1800’s farms.

St. James Farm, Forest Preserve of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL.

The McCormick’s also commissioned several sculpture pieces, which are scattered across the grounds. I pause on my hike at the picnic shelter, which surrounds a wishing well fountain, empty for the season. At the center are three leaping dolphins in a fountain crafted by Italian sculptor Fioré de Henriquez.

St. James Farm, Forest Preserve of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL.

A sign invites me to make a wish and toss in a coin. My pockets, alas, are empty. Coins in these days of Venmo and Apple Pay, Visa and Mastercard, are in short supply. What would I wish for, anyway?

I think of the bulldozing of Bell Bowl Prairie last week.

Compass plant (Silphium laciniatum), St. James Farm, Forest Preserve of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL.

Closing my eyes, I make a wish anyway, hoping my lack of coinage isn’t an issue. What do I wish for? A wish for the continued future of prairie remnants everywhere. That we will wake up and realize their importance. That we will continue to push our public officials to put their lip service about the environment into concrete actions.

Wild bergamot (Monarda fistulosa), St. James Farm, Forest Preserve of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL.

That the setback of our loss of Bell Bowl Prairie will not discourage us for acting for our natural areas, but rather that the whole disappointing event will be a catalyst for us to wake up and protect the little remaining original prairie we have left.

Compass plant (Silphium laciniatum), St. James Farm, Forest Preserve of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL.

Wishful thinking? I hope not. The trail I’m on continues into the woodlands, where I scout for the first spring wildflowers. This week has been bitter and blustery.

St. James Farm, Forest Preserve of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL.

No blooms today, here in the woodlands. As I pass back into the sunshine close to the farm buildings, I admire some of the prairie plantings along the walks.

Prairie dropseed (Sporobolus heterolepis), St. James Farm, Forest Preserve of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL.

Not much plant life left in places. As you’d expect in March.

Marsh blazing star (Liatris spicata), St. James Farm, Forest Preserve of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL.

I think of the root systems stirring in the soil, deep below. Waking up to the warmth and sunlight. Beginning the cycle. Root. Shoot. Bloom. Seed. Senescence.

Evening primrose (Oenothera biennis) St. James Farm, Forest Preserve of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL.

I also think about the pandemic as I walk. This week, three years ago, we woke up to a lock-down in Illinois. At that time, we thought Covid would be eradicated in a few weeks or months. Little did we know.

Red-tailed hawk (Buteo jamaicensis), St. James Farm, Forest Preserve of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL.

The time has passed so quickly.

We don’t know what’s ahead. But I do know I’m ready for the spring, with whatever it brings. You, too?

St. James Farm, Forest Preserve of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL.

March has been a reminder of all we’ve been through the past three years. It’s been a season of wind and ice.

St. James Farm, Forest Preserve of DuPage County, Warrenville, IL.

I’m ready to put it behind us and move forward.

St. James Farm, Warrenville, IL.

Bring on the fire.

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The opening quote is by Stephen Pyne in The Age of Fire, an interview with Anders Dunker. Pyne is the author of many books on fire, including The Pyrocene in 2021, and is professor emeritus at Arizona State University.

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Join Cindy for a class or program this spring!

This Friday! 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., in the beautiful Founders’ Room at Thornhill. Registration information and cost 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 the first 25 people). For more information, contact the library here.

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 at The Morton Arboretum. Registration information here. (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.

See Cindy’s website for more spring programs and classes.

August Prairie Rain

“…And the soft rain—imagine! imagine! the wild and wondrous journeys still to be ours.” —Mary Oliver

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It begins before dawn, with a tap-tap-tap on the windows. At last! Rain.

In my backyard, the plants perk up. From the Sun Sugar cherry tomatoes (everyone’s favorite this summer)…

Sun Sugar cherry tomatoes (Tomato Lycopersicon lycopersicum ‘Sun Sugar’), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

…to the mixed kale…

Mixed varieties of kale (Brassica oleracea spp.), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

…to the prairie patch along the backyard fence…

Crosby’s prairie patch, Glen Ellyn, IL.

…it’s as if the earth heaves a sigh of relief. The rain perks me up, too. When was the last time we had a rainy day? I can’t remember.

Water drops bead and splash from Queen of the Prairie, its flowers fading to seed.

Queen of the Prairie (Filipendula rubra), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

The wild asparagus drips, drips, drips.

Wild asparagus (Asparagus officinalis), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

I walk through the grass in the rain and admire the insects braving the wet. A cucumber beetle peers over the top of a spent Royal Catchfly bloom. No cucumbers here, buddy.

Striped Cucumber Beetle (Acalymma vittatum ) on Royal Catchfly (Silene regia), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

The Wild Quinine, Common Mountain Mint, and the last blooms of Butterfly Weed fall together in the best sort of bouquet.

Crosby’s front yard prairie pollinator patch, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Wait—what’s this? Many of my zinnia’s petals have been neatly stripped off, leaving only the centers. I don’t have to look far to find the culprit, just behind the bird feeders, eating Cup Plant seeds.

With two sock thistle feeders and plenty of feeders full of birdseed across the backyard, why eat my wildflower seeds? Ah, well.

Agastache—Hyssop—attracts a different kind of crowd.

Purple Giant Hyssop (Agastache scrophulariifolia) with a Ruby-throated Hummingbird (Archilochus colubris), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

I have a lot of Hyssop this year, gifted to me by generous friends. Last summer, I plopped it into an available space right by the patio without checking to see how tall it would get. Surprise! It towers over my head. Another surprise—sometimes Purple Giant Hyssop is sometimes…white! I won’t win any landscape design points for placing it where I did. And yet, I’m glad it’s where it is. Even in the rain, every little pollinator wants to stop and sip.

Purple Giant Hyssop (Agastache scrophulariifolia), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

The pale pearl buds of blazing star will open any day.

Blazing Star (Liatris aspera), Crosby’s front yard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

August and anticipation go hand in hand.

Jack Be Little Pumpkin (Curcubita pepo), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Summer is passing. Walking through the yard in the rain, I feel it. Goldenrod shows its metallics. Wildflowers go to seed. Autumn whispers: Not too long, now.

Crosby’s front yard prairie pollinator patch, Glen Ellyn, IL.

My camera lens fogs up again and again. It feels like 100 percent humidity here, but I’m not complaining about the sauna treatment. Because it is raining! Finally.

Flowering Spurge (Euphorbia corollata), Crosby’s front yard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Welcome back, rain. We missed you.

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The opening quote is from Mary Oliver‘s poem, “Last Night the Rain Spoke to Me,” from What Do We Know. Oliver (1935-2019) was a force of nature who opened so many of our eyes and ears to the complexities and joys of the natural world. Read the full poem here.

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Join Cindy for a Program in August!

West Cook Wild Ones presents: A Brief History of Trees in America with Cindy on Sunday, August 21, 2:30-4 p.m. Central Time on Zoom. From oaks to maples to elms: trees changed the course of American history. Native Americans knew trees provided the necessities of life, from food to transportation to shelter. Trees built America’s railroads, influenced our literature and poetry, and informed our music. Discover the roles of a few of our favorite trees in building our nation—and their symbolism and influence on the way we think—as you reflect on the trees most meaningful to you. Free and open to the public. Join from anywhere in the world—but you must preregister. Register here.

January Prairie Dreamin’

“The bumblebee consults his blossoms and the gardener his catalogs, which blossom extravagantly at this season, luring him with their four-color fantasies of bloom and abundance.” — Michael Pollan

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This week is brought to you by the color gray.

Backyard pond, Glen Ellyn, IL.

January gray.

Prairie Cordgrass (Spartina pectinata), backyard prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL.

As I hike the prairie this week, I find myself humming “California Dreamin'”; —All the leaves are brown, and the sky is gray… .

Tall Coreopsis (Coreopsis tripteris), Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.

Gray is trendy. Pantone made “Ultimate Gray” one of its two “Colors of the Year” for 2021.

Even on a blue-sky prairie hike, the gray clouds aren’t far away.

Pretty or not, all this gray is dampening my spirits. The seed suppliers know how those of us who love the natural world feel in January. And they are ready to supply the antidote.

2021 seed catalogs

Every day—or so it seems—a new seed catalog lands in my mailbox. Within its pages, anything seems achievable. After thumbing through Pinetree or Park or Prairie Moon Nursery, when I look at the backyard, I don’t see reality anymore…

Kohlrabi and Kale, backyard garden, Glen Ellyn, IL.

… I see possibilities. This year, my raised vegetable beds, now buried under snow and ice, will overflow with beautiful produce. Spinach that doesn’t bolt. Kale without holes shot-gunned into it from the ravages of the cabbage white butterflies. Squirrels will leave my tomatoes alone. No forlorn scarlet globes pulled off the vine and tossed aside after a single bite. I linger over the catalog pages, circle plant names, make lists, and dream.

As for my prairie patch! I have so many plans.

Bee Balm (Monarda fistulosa), backyard prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL.

This will be the year I find a place in my yard where prairie smoke thrives.

Prairie Smoke (Geum triflorum), Prairie Walk Pond and Dragonfly Landing, Lisle, IL.

Big bluestem, which has mysteriously disappeared over the years from my yard, will be seeded again and silhouette itself against the sky.

Big Bluestem (Andropogon gerardii), Hinsdale Prairie, Hinsdale, IL.

The unpredictable cardinal flowers will show up in numbers unimaginable.

Cardinal flower (Lobelia cardinalis) Nomia Meadows, Franklin Grove, IL.

I see the spent pods of my butterfly weed…

Butterflyweed (Asclepias tuberosa), backyard prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL.

…and remember the half dozen expensive plants that were tried—and died—in various places in the yard until I found its happy place.

Pearl Crescent (Phyciodes tharos) and Butterflyweed (Asclepias tuberosa), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Now it thrives. The monarch caterpillars show up by the dozens to munch on its leaves, just as I had hoped.

Monarch butterfly (Danaus plexippus) caterpillar, backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

As I walk the prairie trails, admiring the tallgrass in its winter garb, I plan the renovation of my backyard garden and prairie patch this spring. I dream big. I dream impractical.

Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.

And why not? Any dream seems possible during the first weeks of January.

*****

The opening quote is by Michael Pollan (1955) from his first book, Second Nature: A Gardener’s Education. Pollan is perhaps best known for The Omnivore’s Dilemma and Botany of Desire but his debut is still my favorite. I read it every year.

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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. Join me from your computer anywhere in the world.

Begins This Week! 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 , 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.

Prairie Comforts

“If you can’t fly, then run, if you can’t run, then walk, if you can’t walk, then crawl, but by all means keep moving.” — Martin Luther King Jr.

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A bitter wind rattles the windows.  The forecast calls for a possible freeze tonight, jeopardizing my risky plantings of onions, carrots, peas, radishes, kale, and spinach in the backyard garden. Spinach has leafed out. Radishes are up in the raised beds.

Such tiny seedlings to face a freeze! Enlisting Jeff’s help, I find a sheet and some old towels, then  we drape the raised beds and tuck the ends in with bricks. Now, my garden is ready to face the frigid night ahead.  I hope.

After we finish, I look around the yard and admire what spring has accomplished. Marsh marigolds necklace the pond. Are they blooming in the prairie wetlands right now? I wonder.

A few marsh marigolds have escaped the pond, leapt the steps leading to the patio, and are in bloom around the hose.

These enthusiastic wildflowers bring me a lot of joy.  Marsh marigolds are one of the Midwest’s native plants. A similar, but unwelcome yellow flower also stalks my neighborhood: the Ficaria verna, the lesser celandine. On our walks through local subdivisions, Jeff and I spy this invasive hanging out on a street corner and tucked into the edge of a copse of trees.

As a prairie steward, I keep my eyes open for this marsh marigold imposter and ruthlessly eradicate it where I can. Give it an inch and it will take over the block. Look at the leaves and flowers of lesser celandine above, then look at the marsh marigolds below. Similar. But different.

I’m grateful for the marsh marigolds this week. They’re a welcome ray of sunshine. A little bit of comfort .

*****

On Sunday, Jeff and I drive to our daughter’s house for a subdued Easter celebration. In the spirit of social distancing we set up lawn chairs in a corner of their yard and they watch from the porch as the little ones hunt eggs. Afterwards, we swap holiday food in bags–my bread, their lamb and potatoes—and we head home for our duo Easter dinner.  The sidewalks and neighborhoods are crowded with families riding bikes together; going for walks.

As we drive past the College of DuPage prairies, I notice something different.

Not a soul in sight.

Stop! We turn into the parking lot. The skies threaten rain, but that isn’t going to stop us.

Such joy!

The prairie at this time of year is a mix of burned areas and unburned areas. The prescribed fires that keep a prairie healthy have done their work. That green! I had forgotten how intense it is.

Prairie dropseed scrub brushes are distinctive at this time of year when other plants are barely up.

Rattlesnake master is unmistakeable—one of the first prairie plants to poke its leaves out of the ground.

Look closely at those leaves above. Like yucca, aren’t they? As its scientific name, Eryngium yuccifolium intimates. Over there –is that a sedge? Yes! But I’m not completely sure of its ID. Mead’s sedge? Pennsylvania sedge, maybe? Hmmm. I try keying it out on my iNaturalist app, but the app isn’t, either. A little mystery.

Along the path, the bee balm, Monarda fistulosa, spreads its tender growth like a throw rug. I crush a tiny leaf and inhale. Mmmm.  Like minty oregano.

The prescribed burn has cleared most of last year’s grasses from the prairie, blackened the earth. Despite the blustery weather, the prairie will warm up quickly.

Already, the fringed clamshells of compass plants hold promise. Although the shoots are only a bit taller than my index finger, I’ll see blooms this summer on stalks up to 12 feet high.

What will I be thinking in late July when it blooms? What will the world be like? After experiencing this pandemic, and the closure of so many natural areas—and crowds in others—I doubt I will ever take a prairie hike like this one for granted again.

A killdeer calls, then scrabbles across the prairie. Looking for a nest site? Perhaps. I feel my spirits lift. Killdeer are always one of the first signs of spring on the prairie.

The College of DuPage prairies offer Jeff and myself some much needed solace. You may have felt, as I felt at first, that it is selfish in these times to grieve such things as the loss of a regular walk in a familiar place, or the disappointment of missing a particular patch of hepatica in bloom…

…or the loss of missing the arrival of spring migrants to a patch of woodland you visit. Perhaps you are unable to go into the field to do your science research; work you’ve planned and received funding for this season at great personal outpouring of energy. Or maybe you mourn the disappearance of the simple rhythms of being a natural areas volunteer and the companionship of others working with you to to restore a prairie, woodland, or wetland. You wonder what’s happening in the places you love—-some now closed off to you for the safety and well-being of all. A good thing. But difficult.

These losses—of course!—are small when weighed against the loss of a job; the loss of our health, the loss of a beloved friend or family member. The sadness when we can’t hug our grandchildren. The fear we feel over something as simple as grocery shopping.  I’ve felt small-minded for even fussing over a prairie closed; a crowded natural area. What are these losses, really?  And yet, I’ve come to realize they are important losses, none-the-less. These places are part of us. These ordinary rituals, these rhythms of our lives, when lost, un-moor us, unsettle us, shake us. They come at a time when other rituals and rhythms of life are also upended. We long for the simple comforts of our familiar places and routines. Many of them will be unavailable to us for a while.

My sister, a therapist, tells me we are experiencing trauma, and all of us will respond differently to it. And without some of our prairie walks and work in the places we know and love, we are forced to find new rituals and rhythms. Even as we do so, each of our losses must be acknowledged and grieved.

I’m establishing new rituals and reacquainting myself with some older ones I’ve neglected over the past few years. A neighborhood walk each morning and evening. A little sketching. Planting my garden. Putting more thought into meals. Eating breakfast together every morning with Jeff, instead of rushing off to work. Restarting my journal, which had gone through a period of neglect.

Watching the rhubarb and other perennials in my yard emerge. I planted rhubarb several times in my garden, and it was never happy. But at last, its seems, I’ve found a spot it likes. I think of rhubarb pie in a few weeks. Something to anticipate.

I’m enjoying the pleasures of clearing my prairie patch and backyard borders of last  year’s dead growth. Watching the crinkled shell-shaped leaves of alum root emerge.

I pay closer attention to my backyard these days on a daily basis. Each day, my backyard prairie patch—and the prairies in my community—offers surprises. Cup plant leaves appear. Birds return. Forgotten onion bulbs sprout in the vegetable garden. This week, I spotted my first dragonfly—a common green darner. These natural rhythms continue, even when so much seems in disarray.

I’m learning to live with greater ambiguity. Becoming more comfortable with being uncomfortable. Instead of planning my year, I try to plan a single day. It’s about as far ahead as I can think. Sometimes, I realize, not much will be accomplished. And that’s okay.

There are new glories in the natural world to appreciate each morning. I only have to remember to look. To pay attention. In a world full of uncertainty, I may not be able to “fly,” as Martin Luther King, Jr, said in the opening quote. But I can keep moving forward, a little bit at a time.

The emerging prairie shows the way.

****

Martin Luther King, Jr., (1929-68) was a civil rights activist who advocated non-violence. King won the Noble Peace Prize for his work for racial equality, and was assassinated because of this work in 1968. Listen to his most famous speech, “I Have A Dream.” given on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in 1963.

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All photos copyright Cindy Crosby (top to bottom): radish (Raphanus raphanistrum subsp. sativus) seedlings, author’s backyard garden, Glen Ellyn, IL; marsh marigold (Caltha palustris), author’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL; marsh marigold (Caltha palustris), author’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL; invasive lesser celandine (Ficaria verna), neighborhood side of Willowbrook Wildlife Forest Preserve, Glen Ellyn, IL; marsh marigold, author’s backyard prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL; street signs, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL; bur oak (Quercus macrocarpa) overlooking the Russell Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage Natural Areas, Glen Ellyn, IL;  pond on the Russell Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage Natural Areas, Glen Ellyn, IL; College of DuPage Prairie in early April; prairie dropseed (Sporabolus heterolepis); Russell Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage Natural Areas, Glen Ellyn, IL: rattlesnake master (Eryngium yuccifolium), Russell Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage Natural Areas , Glen Ellyn, IL; unknown sedge in the Carex family (possibly Mead’s or Pennsylvania), Russell Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL; compass plants (Silphium laciniatum), Russell Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL; compass plant flower (Silphium laciniatum), Fermilab Natural Areas, Batavia, IL; killdeer (Charadrius vociferus), Russell Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL;  sharp-lobed hepatica (Hepatica nobilis acuta), Schulenberg Prairie Savanna, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL (archival photo); Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; Russell Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage Natural Areas, Glen Ellyn, IL; red-winged blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus), College of DuPage Russell Kirt Prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL; rhubarb (Rheum rhabarbarum) emerging, author’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL;  prairie alum root (Heuchera richardsonii), author’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL; cup plant (Silphium perfoliatum), author’s backyard prairie patch, Glen Ellyn, IL; East Prairie, College of DuPage Natural Areas, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Thank you to Paul Marcum who helped me narrow down the sedge ID.

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THIS WEEK: Join me for a free spring wildflower webinar through the Morton Arboretum from wherever you are sheltering in place! “Illinois’ Wild and Wonderful Wildflowers,” April 17, 1-2:30 p.m. CST.–No cost, but you must register to receive the link and additional instructions:  Register Here.

The next “Tallgrass Prairie Ecology” class online begins in early May through The Morton Arboretum. See more information and registration  here. The website is updated to reflect current conditions. A free spring wildflower webinar is also in the works! Watch for a link on Cindy’s website, coming soon.

Several of Cindy’s classes have moved online! For updates on classes and events, please go to http://www.cindycrosby.com.

Want more prairie while you are sheltering in place? Follow Cindy on Facebook, Twitter (@phrelanzer) and Instagram (@phrelanzer). Or enjoy some virtual trips to the prairie through reading Tallgrass Conversations: In Search of the Prairie Spirit and The Tallgrass Prairie: An Introduction.