Giving Thanks on the Prairie

“Just think of the stories these seeds are carrying.”—Diane Wilson

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Lately I’ve been scanning my backyard, watching for pine siskins. Birding friends and my local Wild Birds Unlimited store staff tell me pine siskins have been sighted at numerous backyard bird feeders this autumn. In the Chicago region, they are an “irruptive” species. Which means? We don’t reliably have them each year. Sometimes they show up. Sometimes they don’t. So I check my backyard feeders regularly; scour the local prairies and savannas where I hike. No luck.

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

It’s possible we’ve had them in years past, and my eyes passed over them as one of our common backyard sparrows or finches. Kenn Kaufman calls them “a goldfinch in camouflage.” The Audubon Society notes the pine siskin’s song is that of a “hoarse goldfinch.”

American goldfinches (Spinus tristis), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL. No pine siskins here. (Undated)

You have to really pay attention to notice a pine siskin: the fine yellow under the wing; the streaky bird breast. I’m grateful to know they are close by—somewhere—and that if I keep an eye on my thistle feeder, I may see one. Eventually. Until then, I keep my feeders filled with thistle and sunflower seed chips, and my field guide on the kitchen counter open to the pine siskin page. Anticipating.

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There were no pine siskins seen on my most recent hike, a late afternoon stroll across College of DuPage’s beautiful Russell R. Kirt Prairie. It’s just down the road from my house, and a favorite for a quick impulse walk.

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

My head has been full of planning for this week’s holiday gathering, when we’ll host family for several days. My mind spins with to-do lists, baking schedules, and finding enough of everything. What has happened to all the spoons? Bent, almost every one. (My bet is on late night ice cream sampling). What board games should we play after the big dinner?

I need a walk to clear my head.

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

I hop in the car and drive a short distance to College of DuPage in Glen Ellyn, IL the largest community college in Illinois with beautiful prairies planted all around.

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

The only other car in the lot is a friendly Glen Ellyn policeman, keeping an eye on the area. I wave, and check that it’s okay to park and hike today. Of course, he says. I’m off. College of DuPage has had more than 100 species of birds sighted in their ponds, prairies, and savannas. Maybe, today, there will be pine siskins.

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

It’s 2:30 p.m., but the sun is already low in the west. Daylight Savings Time has been a big adjustment this autumn, more than usual, and I’m not sure why. I’m grateful for the morning light but oh-my-oh-my these early darkening afternoons are lessening any motivation to do much.

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

I’ve always had an affinity for the prairie as it tucks itself in for the evening. It’s my favorite time to hike. While we’re still a few hours from sunset, all around, birds are chattering and pulling seeds from the prairie grasses, getting ready for the long darkness ahead. I see a small group of birds perched in a tree. Could it be…pine siskins? I zoom in with my camera.

Mourning doves (Zenaida macroura), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Nope. Not even close. Just mourning doves. Nearby, a tree fills with starlings, their calls bright and loud.

European starlings (Sturnis vulgaris), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Their chatter keeps me company.

I have mixed feelings about starlings, originally brought to the United States by an eccentric wealthy socialite who wanted to ensure our country had all the birds mentioned in the works of Shakespeare. Today, many people consider them pests. But even Cornell University’s “All About Birds” information on the species notes that, when given a close look, European starlings are “dazzling.”

Although I’m paying close attention to birds on this hike, I can’t help but admire the way the sinking sun backlights the prairie seeds.

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

So many different types of seeds.

Illinois bundleflower (Desmanthus illinoensis), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Each plant has its own story of survival.

Unknown rose (Rosa sp.), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Each wildflower or grass carries a tale of how it has been used over time. Perhaps it was used medicinally, such as the wild bergamot, which contains thymol.

Wild bergamot (Monarda fistulosa), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Some prairie plants were used as food that—when prepared correctly—sated people’s hunger. Others are symbolic, like big bluestem, our Illinois state grass.

Big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Other prairie plants are promising as biofuels.

Switchgrass (Panicum virgatum), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Several were used as textiles, like the Indian hemp. Its stems could be stripped, then used for fishing line, or string.

Indian hemp, sometimes called dogbane (Apocynum cannabinum), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Oh, the stories these plants could tell!

Cream wild indigo (Baptisia bracteata), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.

I think about these plants and their histories as I watch a little flock of juncos and a tree sparrow ply the mown grass path for prairie seeds. It was not too long ago I learned that juncos are actually sparrows!

American tree sparrow (Spizelloides arborea) and a pair of dark-eyed juncos (Junco hyemalis), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Cornell’s wonderful website, “All About Birds,” tells me dark-eyed juncos are “among the most abundant forest birds in North America.” This afternoon, they are among the most numerous birds I see on this prairie. Some people call them “snowbirds” because they appear in our region as heralds of cold weather. When we see the juncos, we know the warm season is drawing to a close, and winter is whispering in the wings.

Dark-eyed junco (Junco hyemalis), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

The juncos fly up into the nearby trees at my approach, flashing their brilliant white tail feathers. I love these little birds, in their black and white plumage. As I follow their flight, I notice a slash of scarlet.

Northern cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.

A northern cardinal sits in a leafless tree on the edge of the prairie. So pretty! I enjoy saying its scientific name “Cardinalis cardinalis.” So fun! Almost as enjoyable as saying “Bison bison.”

Fun, yes, but still…no pine siskins.

I inhale the crisp prairie air, and watch the clouds form and reform. Some clouds look almost braided. Others marble the blue. How does anyone get bored, with the skies changing from moment to moment?

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

Think of the time you could spend, walking and looking and admiring prairie wildflower and grasses seeds.

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

So many seeds. All so different.

Leadplant (Amorpha canescens), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.

All ready to start the first chapter of their new stories in the coming spring.

Wait! I see movement in a tree nearby. Could it be?

Red-bellied woodpecker (Melanerpas carolinus), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Foiled again. A red-bellied woodpecker. Not a pine siskin.

As I make my way back to the parking lot, I stop to catch my breath by the small pond. A few mallard ducks are doing their “bottoms up” trick. It always makes me smile.

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

I love this time of year on the prairie, when everything is winding down. The abundant seeds are there, each year, promising hope for the future. I’m grateful for that.

What a beautiful world it is. What simple pleasures are found all around us. In the skies. On the prairie.

I didn’t find what I went looking for. But sometimes, the joy is in the journey.

Compass plant (Silphium laciniatum) with an unknown rose (Rosa sp.), Russell R. Kirt Prairie, College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, IL.

And after time outside, the stresses of the week seems manageable again. Prairie hikes have a way of doing this.

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

I’m grateful for all the prairie has offered me this year. I’m thankful for the months still ahead, and all the joys and discoveries yet to be made.

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

And maybe, just maybe as I’m baking the pumpkin and cherry pies, I’ll look out my kitchen windows and spy…some pine siskens.

Enjoy the holiday week ahead, friends! Thank you for reading.

*****

The opening quote is from The Seed Keeper, a lovely and heart-wrenching novel by Diane Wilson. She is also the author of Beloved Child: A Dakota Way of Life and Spirit Car: Journey to a Dakota Past. Wilson is a Mdewakanton descent, enrolled on the Rosebud Reservation, and lives in Shafer, Minnesota.

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Join Cindy for a program as we close out 2023!

Friday, 12/1 — 10-11:30 a.m.: “Bison Tales and Tallgrass Trails” at the beautiful Morton Arboretum in Lisle, IL. (Please note! After selling out the program, The Morton Arboretum opened up a larger room, Cudahy Auditorium, next to the Sterling Morton Library, to accommodate more people. Registration is still limited, however. A book signing will follow the program, just in time for the holidays. To register, click here.)

12/12– 6:45-8 p.m.: “Winter Prairie Wonders” hosted by the Buffalo Grove Garden Club. Free and open to the public! For more information, click here.

More classes and programs are at www.cindycrosby.com .

Frost Falls on the Tallgrass Prairie

“When the frost is on the punkin’.. .” —James Whitcomb Riley

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“I feel sad to see the trees lose their leaves,” one of my young granddaughters said to me as I drove her home from school last week.

White oak (Quercus alba) leaves, Lyman Woods, Downers Grove, IL.

We talked about the season of cold that was on the way. A time of rest. A time of letting go. We marveled at the beauty of the changing maple leaves, turning scarlet along the road where we waited in the school pick-up line. But in truth, I agreed with her. October always makes me feel a little bit melancholy. It is a season of goodbyes.

Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL, during the solar eclipse on 10/14.

Jeff and I gathered the last tomatoes from the garden last week before the frost. Now, we pluck them from a bowl on the kitchen counter, one by one, as they slowly ripen. We’re reminded that there will be no more until next July, knock on wood.

Red-bellied woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus), Schulenberg Prairie Savanna, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

In the backyard, the zinnias and dahlias plug along, their growth slowed by light frost, but still cheerful. I gather bouquets and bring them inside, defiantly orange, red, yellow, and pink against the shorter, darker days. The prairie and woodland wildflowers have mostly gone to seed, although the late asters, goldenrods, and bonesets hold on in sheltered spots. Even the gentians have finished their business.

Stiff gentian or agueweed (Gentiana quinquefolia), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

The prairie grasses take center stage.

Canada wild rye (Elymus canadensis), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

In my yard, I collect seeds of blazing star, showy goldenrod, mountain mint, butterflyweed; saving them for next year’s prairie plantings.

Butterflyweed (Asclepias tuberosa), Crosby’s prairie planting, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Goodbye, I whisper to the wildflowers as I collect their seeds. See you next year.

Blazing star (Liatris aspera), Crosby’s front yard prairie planting, Glen Ellyn, IL. (2022).

There are other farewells to make. This past week we said goodbye to poet Louise Glück (1943-2023), who passed away at 80. She won every prize under the sun, including her recent Nobel Prize in Literature (2020), and served as our United States Poet Laureate in 2003.

Likely an orange sulphur butterfly (Colias eurytheme) although they are tricky to tell apart from the clouded sulphur (Colias philodice), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

When I read the news of her passing, I pulled my old copy of The Wild Iris from the shelf. This 1992 volume, which won the Pulitzer Prize, is set in the garden and includes some ostensibly about tomatoes. “…it was my heart broken by the blight, the black spot so quickly multiplying in the rows.” Her dark poetry has an autumnal feel, perfect for October.

Autumn at Lyman Woods, Downers Grove, IL.

Whenever we lose a poet, a light goes out in the world.

Lyman Woods, Downers Grove, IL.

About as far away from Glück’s writing as you can imagine is folksy poet James Whitcomb Riley. As a child growing up in central Indiana, our teachers read many of his poems to us, including the iconic “When the Frost is on the Punkin.” A sample:

They’s something kindo’ harty-like about the atmusfere; When the heat of summer’s over and the coolin’ fall is here—; Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossums on the trees, And the mumble of the hummin’-birds and buzzin’ of the bees; But the air’s so appetizin’; and the landscape through the haze; Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days; Is a pictur’ that no painter has the colorin’ to mock—; When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.

Star-flowered lily-of-the-valley, sometimes called starry Solomon’s seal (Maianthemum stellatum), Schulenberg Prairie Savanna, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Go back and read it out loud. Isn’t it fun to recite? The Poetry Foundation notes: “Neglectful of his studies, Riley preferred to take walks in the countryside, read books of his own choosing, and create rhymes, the first of which he sent to his young friends on home-made valentines.” He sounds like a kindred spirit.

Differential grasshopper (Melanoplus differentialis), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Of course, unlike Glück, a popular modern poet who is widely revered, Riley’s poetry is long out of fashion today. But hearing a line or two brings back my childhood; the smell of chalk dust, the murmur of the teacher, and the heft of a textbook. Do you have a favorite poet, or one who brings back childhood memories? (Leave me a note in the comments with your favorites.)

Common yellowthroat (Geothlypis trichas), Schulenberg Prairie Savanna, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

As I think of the goodbyes we are saying this week: in the garden, in the prairies, and in the woodlands—and the farewells to those whose words have left an imprint on our minds and hearts—I also think of the firsts to come. The first snowfall, which sometimes happens in October here in the Chicago Region.

Dark-eyed junco (Junco hyemalis), Crosby’s backyard (2022).

I’ve yet to see the first junco at my feeders, although I hear they’ve arrived in our region. I know they’ll show up in my backyard any time now. Other seasonal firsts are just days or weeks away. It won’t be long before the first first sandhill cranes are headed south.

Sandhill cranes (Antigone canadensis),Jasper-Pulaski Fish and Wildlife Area, Medaryville, IN (2016).

Bittersweet.

Non-native Queen Anne’s lace (Daucus carota) with the introduced seven-spotted lady beetle (Coccinella septempunctata), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Do you sense a foreshadowing?

Prairie dock (Silphium terabinthinaceum), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Farewell to the season of warmth and growth. It went so fast.

Moon over Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Hello, season of reflection.

Welcome, season of rest.

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The quote that opens this post is from James Whitcomb Riley (1849-1960), and his poem “When the Frost is on the Punkin.” Some of Riley’s verses that I learned in school still rattle around in my head, like ones from “Little Orphant Annie”, more than 50 years later. You can read the full “punkin” poem, perfect for October, here.

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Join Cindy for a class or program to close out 2023!

10/19– 10:30pm-noon: “Literary Gardens.” Hosted by the Garden Club of Iverness, Palatine, IL. Free and open to the public! For more information, click here.

11/1 — 11am-12:30 pm: “Winter Prairie Wonders” hosted by Town and Country Gardeners in Libertyville, IL. (Closed event for members). To learn more about the club, click here.

11/6 — 11am-12:30pm: “Dragonflies and Damselflies” hosted by Elmhurst Garden Club (Closed event for members). To learn how to join the garden club, click here.

11/10 –1-2:30pm: “A Brief History of Trees in America” hosted by Lombard Garden Club. Free and open to the public! For more information, click here.

11/15 –7-8:30 p.m.: “A Brief History of Trees in America” hosted by the Downers Grove Organic Garden Club. Free and open to the public! For more information, click here.

12/1 — 10-11:30 a.m.: “Bison Tales and Tallgrass Trails” at the Morton Arboretum’s beautiful Sterling Morton Library in Lisle, IL. (SOLD OUT — call and ask to be put on a waiting list.)

12/12 6:45-8 p.m.: “Winter Prairie Wonders” hosted by the Buffalo Grove Garden Club. Free and open to the public! For more information, click here.

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A note to readers: Jeff and I are celebrating our 40th anniversary by visiting 40 natural areas over the summer and fall. Please let us know where you think we should head to next. Only two more to go! Thanks to everyone who has sent ideas. So far, we’ve enjoyed visiting the following places: Kayaking at #1 Rock Cut State Park (Rockford, IL); hiking at #2 James “Pate” Philip State Park (Bartlett, IL); #3 Potato Creek State Park (North Liberty, IN); #4 Indiana Dunes State Park (Porter County, IN); #5 Indiana Dunes National Park (Beverly Shores, IN); kayaking Silver Lake at #6 Blackwell Forest Preserve (Wheaton/Warrenville, IL); hiking #7 Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve (Downers Grove, IL), #8 Winfield Mounds Forest Preserve (Winfield, IL), #9 Bluff Spring Fen (Elgin, IL), #10 Herrick Lake Forest Preserve (Wheaton, IL); Jeff’s family reunion at #11 Hawthorn Park (Terre Haute, IN); hiking #12 Turkey Run State Park, Marshall, IN) and at #13 Shades State Park, Waveland, IN; hiking and bison viewing at #14 Kankakee Sands, Morocco, IN; hiking at #15 Hidden Lake Forest Preserve (Downers Grove, IL), #16 Peck Farm Park (Geneva, IL), #17 Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum (Lisle, IL); #18 Busse Woods Forest Preserve, Elk Grove, IL; #19 Nachusa Grasslands (Franklin Grove,IL); reading in a swing along the Rock River at #20 Lowell Park (Dixon, IL); cabin overnight and hiking at #21 White Pines State Park (Mt. Morris, IL); hiking to the overlook at #22 Castle Rock State Park (Oregon, IL); enjoying the views at a prairie remnant gem #23 Beach Cemetery Prairie (Ogle County, IL); #24 Springbrook Prairie (Naperville, IL); watching eagles and hiking at #25 Starved Rock State Park (Oglesby, IL); watching the dragonfly migration at #26 Matthiessen State Park (Oglesby, IL); river overlook at #27 Buffalo Rock State Park (Ottawa, IL); #28 monarch and dragonfly migration at Wolf Road Prairie (Westchester, IL); and hiking #29 Russell R. Kirt Prairie at College of DuPage (Glen Ellyn, IL); hiking #30 Midewin National Tallgrass Prairie (Wilmington, IL), #31 Fermilab Prairies (Batavia, IL); and #32 Danada Forest Preserve (Wheaton, IL); #33 Fullersburg Woods (Oak Brook, IL); #34 Dick Young Forest Preserve (Batavia, IL); #35 Lyman Woods (Downers Grove, IL); #36 Harlem Hills Prairie Nature Preserve (Loves Park, IL); #37 Greene Prairie (Madison, WI; and #38 Curtis Prairie (Madison, WI).  Thanks to everyone who sent suggestions last week! Two adventures still to come.

A Very Prairie New Year

“Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.” — Mary Oliver

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The last week of the year is a good time for reflection. I’ve been thinking about all of you; the wonderful readers who have joined me on this virtual prairie hike adventure.

Belmont Prairie, Downers Grove, IL (January 2022).

Eight years ago this week in December of 2014, I wrote the first post for Tuesdays in the Tallgrass. About 40 people joined me for that initial post, mostly family and close friends, who encouraged me by clicking “follow” and then, reading each week.

Dark-eyed junco (Junco hyemalis), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Thanks to so many of you who love prairie and the natural world, this week the “odometer” ticked over to 1,000 followers. In the world of social media, of course, that’s small potatoes. But not to me. Each of you are an important part of this virtual prairie community.

Kaleidoscope of sulphur butterflies (Colias sp.), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL. (2015)

Each week, your readership reminds me of how many people love the natural world.

River jewelwing damselfly (Calopteryx aequabilis), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL (Summer 2022).

It’s also a reminder of how important it is, as the late poet Mary Oliver said, to “tell about it.” It’s not enough to enjoy the natural world and the prairie for ourselves. Sharing it with others—or as the remarkable Dr. Robert Betz once said—making “a real effort to educate the public about (the prairie’s) importance as a natural heritage and ecological treasure” is an ongoing necessity. If you and I don’t share the wonders of the natural world with others today, how will they make the personal connections that ensure the prairie’s survival in the future?

First prairie hike for this little one, Fermilab Interpretive Trail, Batavia, IL (2018).

What a world of wonders the prairie offers us! When you count the Tuesdays over the past eight years, that’s 416 virtual hikes we’ve made together.

Female northern cardinal, (Cardinalis cardinalis) Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

It’s a lot of stories; a lot of hikes. Yet, each week we barely scratch the surface of the diversity, complexity, and marvels of the tallgrass prairie and the natural world. There is so much to see!

Chasing dragonflies at Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL (2017).

Tuesdays came no matter where I found myself. So, we’ve dreamed about prairie together as I corresponded on my travels from far-flung Sicily…

Broad scarlet dragonfly, (Crocothemis erythraea), Santo Stefano, Sicily, Italy. (2014)

… to the deserts of Arizona…

Queen butterflies (Danaus gilippus), Tucson, AZ. (2021)

…. to the mangrove swamps in Florida.

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

But I’ve learned that I don’t need to travel the world to find marvels. The best adventures are waiting for us in our own backyards.

Cooper’s hawk (Accipiter cooperii), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Most of our adventures together have been in the tallgrass, of course. Together, we’ve explored remnant tallgrass prairies, national prairie preserves, cemetery prairies, planted prairies in parks, and large tracts of Nature Conservancy prairies.

Wild bergamot (Monarda fistulosa), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

We’ve investigated birds on the prairie and at the backyard feeders…

Red-bellied woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

….as well as turtles, snakes, butterflies, bunnies, bees, beetles, coyote, opossum, beavers, muskrats, and anything else that flies, buzzes, or hovers. As I’ve learned more about prairie pollinators and prairie plants, you’ve cheered me on, gently corrected my wrong ID’s, offered ideas on your own favorite places, and said an encouraging word or two at just the right time.

Male calico pennant dragonfly (Celithemis elisa), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL (2020).

You’ve hiked with me through some difficult times, through my cancer diagnosis and recovery; through a new knee that got me back on the prairie trails again; and through a medical issue that sidelined me for several months this fall, unable to do much more than photograph the prairie plantings and the garden in my yard. Your encouragement and comments have been an important part of the healing process.

Monarch butterfly (Danaus plexippus) and ruby-throated hummingbird (Archilochus colubris) on non-native zinnias (Zinnia sp.) in Crosby’s garden, Glen Ellyn, IL (2019).

As a former bookseller, I couldn’t write about prairie here without also writing about the books I love. Over the years, we’ve rounded up a yearly list of favorite and new prairie books each season, a tradition I’ve come to enjoy (and I hope you have, too!). And, as I’ve penned this blog, I’ve written or co-authored three additional books, all of which took inspiration from the discipline of writing this weekly missive. Every one of you has played a role in my books, because your questions and comments informed and encouraged those writings.

Chasing Dragonflies (2020, Northwestern University Press); The Tallgrass Prairie (2016, Northwestern University Press); Tallgrass Conversations (2018, Ice Cube Press, with Thomas Dean).

As I write this note to you at the end of 2022, we continue to navigate a world-wide pandemic. Here in Illinois, during the holidays, we are experiencing a “triple-demic” of RSV, flu, and Covid-19. Another daunting aspect of life in 2022 is the lack of civility and care for each other that the news headlines trumpet daily. Sometimes, the world feels like a scary place. But whatever a week brings, I always feel the joy of knowing this little prairie community is here on Tuesday, ready to share with me in the excitement and delight of a virtual hike.

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

“To know fully even one field or one land is a lifetime’s experience,” wrote the Irish poet and novelist Patrick Kavanagh. To know the tallgrass prairie—or even the small plantings in my suburban yard—would take several lifetimes. But what an adventure it is!

Cooper’s hawk (Accipter cooperii), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

At the end of 2022 I want to say thank you. Thank you for reading. Thank you for giving me a bit of your time each Tuesday morning. Thank you for the constant stream of well-wishes; of “shares,” and “retweets” and Facebook reposts. Especially thank you to those who take time to click the comment button from time to time and say how much you love prairie, or if you enjoyed a particular post or photograph, or that you want to recommend a book title. Maybe you sent me a link to an interesting website, or you have an idea about how to get rid of buckthorn or honeysuckle, or you wanted to share a “prairie recipe” or tip. Thank you for being a community.

Shooting star (Dodecatheon meadii), in bloom at Beach Cemetery Prairie, Ogle County, IL, on an outing with the Illinois Native Plant Society (2022).

Most of all, thank you for getting outside. If you live in prairie country, thank you for hiking the prairies. For planting prairie in your gardens. For volunteering on a prairie, or dedicating your professional life to caring for prairie, or sharing prairie with a child. Thank you for photographing prairie and sharing prairie with your friends. If you live in a different part of the country, or the world, thank you for admiring prairie and for caring for the natural world, as I know some of my readers do from across the miles. My prairie may be your forest, or wetland, or river. We are all stewards of wherever we find ourselves.

Trail over Willoway Brook, Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL (2015).

As this year of prairie hikes comes to a close, thank you for caring. Knowing you are out there continues to be an inspiration to me, through the light and dark places as we hike the prairie trails, wade in the prairie streams looking for dragonflies and damselflies, watch for bison…

Bison (Bison bison), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL. (2021)

…and explore the natural world together.

Ebony jewelwing damselflies in the wheel position, Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL. (2017)

As the poet Mary Oliver wrote, “Paying attention: This is our endless and proper work.”

Regal fritillary butterfly (Speyeria idalia), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL. (2021)

What a joy that work can be! I can’t wait to hike the trails in 2023 together.

Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL. (2016)

Happy New Year! See you next week on the prairie.

*****

Mary Oliver (1935-2019), whose quote opens this last post of 2022, wrote compellingly about experiencing the natural world. In New and Selected Poems, she writes: “When it’s over, I want to say: all my life / I was a bride married to amazement.” Yes.

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Join Cindy for a Class or Program this Winter

The Tallgrass Prairie in Popular Culture—Friday, January 20, from 10-11:30 a.m. Explore the role the tallgrass prairie plays in literature, art, music—and more! Enjoy a hot beverage as you discover how Illinois’ “landscape of home” has shaped our culture, both in the past and today. Offered by The Morton Arboretum in Lisle, IL; register here.

Nature Writing Workshop— Four Thursdays (February 2, 9, 16, and 23) from 6-8:30 p.m. Join a community of nature lovers as you develop and nurture your writing skills in person. For more information and to register visit here.

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Illinois Prairie needs you! Visit Save Bell Bowl Prairie to learn about this special place—one of the last remaining gravel prairies in our state —and to find out what you can do to help.

***Note to readers: All undated photos were taken this week.

A Prairie Valentine

“How important it is to walk along, not in haste but slowly, looking at everything and calling out Yes!”– Mary Oliver

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Ask for their top 10 list of February destinations, and most of my friends would tell you “anywhere warm.” I agree. Toward the end of a Chicago region winter, I’m  ready to shed the shivery cold for a few days and escape to some far-flung beach down south.

But the beach in February is not my number one destination. I include walking trails through prairie remnants in winter a little higher on my list.

Tonight, Jeff and I are walking the Belmont Prairie in Downer’s Grove, Illinois. It’s small, as prairies go, but as a remnant—part of the original Illinois tallgrass prairie which escaped development and the plow—it’s special.  Writer John Madson wrote in Where the Sky Began that his “feeling for tallgrass prairie is like that of a modern man who has fallen in love with the face in a faded tintype. Only the frame is still real; the rest is illusion and dream.” Remnants remind me of those “faded tintypes.” Ghosts.

Very little of our original prairies have survived; about 2,300 high quality acres are left in Illinois. Another reason to be grateful for Belmont Prairie’s 10-acre remnant.

The grasses are weather-bleached and flattened now. You can imagine how references to the prairie as a sea came to be. Walking the trails here, amid the waves of winter tallgrass, can leave you unsteady on your feet, a little like wading through the surf and sand.

A creek glistens. Puddles of snowmelt glow.  I’ve been re-reading Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings series this winter, and the creek puts me in mind of Galadriel’s silver elvish rope that helped Frodo and Sam continue their quest to darkest Mordor. Magical. A tiny sliver of creek is also iced in on the right—can you see it in the grasses? Barely visible, but the setting sun sets it alight.

As we hike, Canada geese begin to settle in, pulling their V-string necklaces across the twilight overhead.

Geese have a bad rap here in the Chicago suburbs, but I admire their sense of direction, their seamless ability to work as an aerial team, their perfectly spaced flight pattern. Their confidence in knowing the way home.

Honk-honk! The soundtrack of dusk.

A crescent moon scythes its way across the burgeoning gloom.

Still enough light to see. The reflections of ice spark the last light.

Poke around. In the mud and snow pockets, trapped in north-facing crevices, there are signs of spring to come. A few spears of green. Water running under the ice.

Look closely, and you may find a few tracks. Mammals are out and about in the cold. Birds.  In my backyard, close to the prairie patch, we’ve been feeding the birds extra food during the bitter temperatures, and they, in turn, have graced us with color, motion, and beauty.  As I scrubbed potatoes before having some friends over for dinner this weekend, my mundane task was made enjoyable by watching the interplay at the feeders outside my kitchen window. Scrubbing potatoes became meditation of sorts. Outside were squabbling sparrows.  The occasional red-bellied woodpecker. Juncos–one of my favorites–nun-like in their black and white feathered habits. The occasional burst of cardinal color.  Darting chickadees. Nuthatches, hanging upside down, zipping in for a peanut or two. Downy woodpeckers, like this one.

The seeds on the ground attract  more than birds. There are gangs of squirrels, well-fed and prosperous. If I wake early, I might spot a large eastern cottontail scavenging seeds, or even a red fox, whose antics with her kits have delighted us in the neighborhood over the years (and kept the resident chipmunk herds in check). Once in a while, over the years, we’ll surprise her on our back porch.

Another backyard visitor through the year is the opossum, who finds the seeds under the bird feeders a nice change of diet.

The opossum’s face looks a bit like a heart, doesn’t it? It reminded me that Valentine’s Day is Thursday. Time to find or make a card, and perhaps shop for a book or two for my best hiking partner. Speaking of him….

As Jeff and I head for the parking lot at Belmont Prairie, the great-horned owl calls from the treeline that hems the tallgrass. I hear the soft murmur. Who-Who- Hoooo.

Jeff and I once found a great horned owl here—perhaps this very one— in daylight, high in a tree on the edge of the grasses. I owl-prowl sometimes through the woods, hunting for bone and fur-filled scat pellets under trees. Find a pellet under a tree, look up, and you’ll occasionally get lucky and see an owl.

I think about Mary Oliver’s poem, “Little Owl Who Lives in the Orchard,” which begins….”His beak could open a bottle… .” As someone who teaches  nature writing in the Chicago region, I love to read this poem to my students. The sounds of Oliver’s word choices  (“black, smocked crickets”), her contrasts of terror and sweet, and her descriptions  (“when I see his wings open, like two black ferns”) remind me of the joy of words, images, and our experiences outdoors.

Oliver’s poem about the owl ends; “The hooked head stares from its house of dark, feathery lace. It could be a valentine.”

The owl calls again. I think of the people and prairie I love. And, the joy that sharing a love of wild things with others can bring.

It’s a happiness not quite like any other. Try it yourself. And see.

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Mary Oliver (1936-2019), whose words from Owls and Other Fantasies opens this blogpost, was a Pulitzer Prize-winning American poet (1984, American Primitive) and winner of the National Book Award (1992, New and Selected Poems). Her admonition, “Pay attention. Be astonished! Tell about it.,” is some of the best advice I know. She died in January.

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All photographs copyright Cindy Crosby, from Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downer’s Grove, IL, unless noted (top to bottom): beach umbrellas, Sanibel Island, Florida; sawtooth sunflowers (Helianthus grosseserratus); Canada rye (Elymus canadensis); parking lot at sunset;  grasses on the prairie;  creek through the prairie; Canada geese (Branta canadensis) heading home; compass plant (Silphium laciniatum) at sunset; crescent moon over the tallgrass; ice in the grasses; creek ice with new growth; downy woodpecker (Dryobates pubescens), author’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL; red fox (Vulpes vulpes), author’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL; Virginia opossum (Didelphis virginiana), author’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL; sunset over the prairie; Belmont Prairie treeline;  treeline at the edges of the prairie; Canada goldenrod (Solidago canadensis) with common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca) pappus.