April on the Prairie

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

*****

April in the Midwest is not for the faint of heart. We woke up Monday in the Chicago Region to blustery winds, falling snow, and temperatures which plunged down, down, down.

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

After joking with friends earlier last week that we had gone straight from winter to summer—we’d even put the hummingbird feeder out— the weather gods must have taken notice. Take that!

Hummingbird feeder with no takers, Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Ah, well. It’s spring in Illinois.

The 100-acre Schulenberg Prairie where I’m a steward was burned last week. I was glad to see it, although the prescribed fire was later in the season than usual and nipped some of the newly-emerged plants.

Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

I don’t think it will set back the rattlesnake master much.

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

There were some casualties. Oh, the pasque flowers! They are always one of our first prairie wildflowers to bloom each spring. The name comes from the Hebrew “pasakh” for “Passover” and is also known as “Easter flower” for its bloom season. The flowers were right on time this year before the prescribed burn.

Pasque flowers (Pulsatilla patens), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL (2016).

If you are a long-time reader of Tuesdays in the Tallgrass, you’ll remember we were down to one or two of these beautiful specimens a half dozen years ago. We collected seed from the mother plant, as well as sourced more seed from a generous forest preserve. Then the Arboretum’s wonderful greenhouse staff grew the seeds out for us. Pasque flower germinates poorly, so we were delighted to have 30 plants to place on the prairie.

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

So it’s a bit of a heartbreak to see them after the fire.

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

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

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

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

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

It’s the life of a prairie steward. Three steps forward. Two steps back. The fire was critical to the health of the prairie, so most plants will benefit. Poor pasque flowers! One of the hazards of being an early spring prairie bloomer. We’ll see if any other pasque flower plants made it as the weeks unfold.

As consolation, Jeff and I dropped in at the Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie in Glenview, IL, this past week. It’s one of my favorite prairies to visit.

Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.

This evening it’s quiet, except for a rowdy flock of red-winged blackbirds and grackles. Almost 60! They move in large groups from tree to tree. The late slant of sun polishes the grackles’ blue and black to a high sheen.

Common grackle (Quiscalus quiscula), Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.

It seems unfair that a flock of grackles is called “a plague.” As we enter the fourth year of the pandemic, we have an inkling of what a “plague” is like, and this ain’t it. Another name for their flocks: An “annoyance” of grackles. Ha! I like the red-winged blackbird’s group names better: a “cloud,” “cluster,” or a “merl.”

We see a few house finches as we hike, hanging out on top of a birdhouse that I don’t believe was intended for them. The males are pretty in their raspberry breeding plumage.

House finches (Haemorhous mexicanus), Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.

Bird names aside, we revel in naming some of the prairie plants we see still standing on the unburned prairie. Switchgrass.

Switchgrass (Panicum virgatum), Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.

Wild bergamot.

Wild bergamot (Monarda fistulosa), Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.

Dogbane, sometimes called Indian hemp.

Dogbane or Indian hemp (Apocynum cannabinum), Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.

Prairie dock, with a thicker-than-usual stem. Interesting! I wonder why?

Prairie dock (Silphium terabinthinaceum), Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.

As we hike, we notice two visitors on the trail peering through their binoculars at…something. I look into the wetlands, but can’t see anything unusual.

Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.

Fortunately, they are—like so many birders—friendly and generous with their knowledge. “Look over here,” one of them says, pointing.

And then I see it. Virginia rail!

Virginia rail (Rallus limicola), Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.

The reclusive bird with “Ticket! Ticket!” call has always evaded my camera. I click shot after shot, unable to believe my luck.

Virginia rail (Rallus limicola), Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.

But that’s not all…

Sora!

Sora (Prozana carolina), Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.

Another bird I’ve not been able to get a photo of. Even though, as Cornell University tells us, it is “the most abundant and widespread rail (a family of small to mid-sized birds) in North America.” What bizarre calls this bird has! (Be sure and click to listen to several of the recordings to hear the “whinny” call.) We linger, watching and listening.

Thanking the generous birders profusely, we make our way back to the parking lot, admiring the now-closed interpretive center as we go.

Evelyn Pease Tyner Interpretive Center, Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.

It was a short prairie hike.

But what a wealth of delights that April—this mercurial month—had for us on the prairie this week.

Kent Fuller Air Station Prairie, Glenview, IL.

Who knows what else we’ll see this month on the prairies?

I can’t wait to find out.

****

The opening quote is from T.S. Eliot’s (1888-1965) “The Wasteland.” Read more about his life at the Poetry Foundation, or listen to Eliot read his words here.

*****

Join Cindy for a Program or Class this Spring

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

Spring Wildflower and Ethnobotany Walk—Thursday, April 20, 8:30-10:30 am or Saturday, April 29, 8:30-10:30am at The Morton Arboretum. Registration information here. (Both walks SOLD OUT, ask to be put on a waiting list)

The Tallgrass Prairie in Popular Culture –Sunday, April 23, 2-5 p.m. The Land Conservancy’s 32nd Annual Celebration, High Tea at the McHenry Country Club, Woodstock, IL. Tickets are $45-$70 — available here. If you live in the area, please support the great work this organization does for prairies and our natural lands.

I’m excited to moderate “In Conversation Online with Robin Wall Kimmerer,” June 21, 2023, 7-8 pm via Zoom. Brought to you by Illinois Libraries Present. Numbers may be limited, so register here soon!

More classes and programs at www.cindycrosby.com

An April Prairie Ramble

“My cathedral is…the prairies… . ” —Neil Young

*****

What a week! Prairie prescribed burns are wrapping up…

Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

…and a visit to central Indiana this past week was a glimpse of spring woodland wildflowers in full bloom, a little bit ahead of ours in the Chicago region. The yellow trout lilies, intriguing from the side…

Yellow trout lily (Erythronium americanum), Plainfield, IN.

…and from the back.

Yellow trout lily (Erythronium americanum), Plainfield, IN.

False rue anemone is in full bloom in the Hoosier state.

False rue anemone (Enemion biternatum), Plainfield, IN.

And spring beauties there are, well, beautiful as their name suggests.

Spring beauties (Claytonia virginica), Plainfield, IN.

Driving home to the Chicago suburbs from Indianapolis, a brown sign lures Jeff and me off the highway: “Prophetstown State Park.” I do a quick Google search, and see there is a tallgrass prairie. Prairie! Put the turn signal on. We follow the directions and pull into the parking area.

And what a prairie it is,

Prophetstown State Park Tallgrass Prairie, West Lafayette, IN.

It stretches far and wide, much larger than anything we anticipated. In my mind, I’ve now dubbed this the “Bluebird Tallgrass Prairie” for the number of sapphire feathered sprites that kept us company on our hike.

Eastern bluebirds (Sialia sialis), Prophetstown State Park, West Lafayette, IN.

We watched them fly around the nest boxes scattered along the trails. Here, the mama bird does a doublecheck; maybe on a brood of baby blues?

Eastern bluebird (Sialia sialis), Prophetstown State Park, West Lafayette, IN.

The males flying out and about gather insects for their hungry families. This bluebird below looks put out with the state of his box, perhaps damaged in the recent tornados and storms in Indiana a week or two ago. Looks like a trip to Home Depot or Menards is in his future.

Eastern bluebird (Sialia sialis), Prophetstown State Park, West Lafayette, IN.

Don’t let that look fool you, however. Even though he’ll contribute some nest material to his new home, female bluebirds are the primary nest-builders. She may use the same nest for up to three clutches in a season; each clutch will have two to seven eggs.

We hike the wide mown grassy trails and admire the prairie grasses and dried wildflowers. Some of the prairie’s acres, close to the structures of a replicated Native American village, have been mowed, rather than burned. Maybe to keep the buildings from harm.

Prophetstown State Park, West Lafayette, IN.

Near the houses and barns, a 13-lined ground squirrel darts through the backlit grasses.

13-lined ground squirrel (Ictidomys tridecemlineatus), Prophetstown State Park, West Lafayette, IN.

Blue haze hangs in the distance.

Prophetstown State Park, West Lafayette, IN.

As we hike the trails, I notice some old plant friends.

Indian grass.

Indian grass (Sorghastrum nutans), Prophetstown State Park, West Lafayette, IN.

Canada wild rye.

Canada wild rye (Elymus canadensis), Prophetstown State Park, West Lafayette, IN.

Purpletop tridens, a native perennial bunchgrass.

Purpletop tridens (Tridens flavus cupreus), Prophetstown State Park, West Lafayette, IN.

Mountain mint, looking haggard after a long winter.

Mountain mint (Pycnanthemum sp.), Prophetstown State Park, West Lafayette, IN.

Rich colors brighten the little bluestem, glowing in the late afternoon slant of sunlight.

Little bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium), Prophetstown State Park, West Lafayette, IN.

As we point out the prairie plants to each other, a red-winged blackbird serenades us with his Oka-leee!

Red-winged blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus), Prophetstown State Park, West Lafayette, IN.

Another one of the numerous bluebirds makes it a duet.

Red-winged blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus), and eastern bluebird (Sialia sialis), Prophetstown State Park, West Lafayette, IN.

A tree line marks the prairie’s far boundaries.

Prophetstown State Park, West Lafayette, IN.

The grasses, bent and broken by a long winter, seemed to wash against the trees like waves against the shoreline, emphasizing the constant tension between woodland and prairie.

Prophetstown State Park, West Lafayette, IN.

With all these wonders, it was difficult to get back in the car and head for Chicago. What a respite a prairie hike can be! Such solace.

Prophetstown State Park, West Lafayette, IN.

Prophetstown’s prairie was a serendipitous break from the mind-numbing traffic, a reminder of the tranquility that can be found a few miles from a busy freeway.

A moment to breath, to rekindle our sense of wonder.

Thanks, Prophetstown State Park prairie. And thanks to the staff and volunteers who keep it flourishing.

****

The opening quote is an excerpt of one by Grammy Award-winning Neil Young (1945-), a Canadian-American songwriter, musician, film director, and activist. Young has twice been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame; once as a solo artist, once as a member of the group Buffalo Springfield. Fun fact: Neil Young was a studio session guitarist for the Monkees in 1968. Young has only had one hit in his career—can you guess what it was? Click here to find out.

*****

Tonight! 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. Join us! 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 Ethnobotany Walk—Thursday, April 20, 8:30-10:30 am or Saturday, April 29, 8:30-10:30am at The Morton Arboretum. Registration information here. (Both walks SOLD OUT, ask to be put on a waiting list)

The Tallgrass Prairie in Popular Culture –Sunday, April 23, 2-5 p.m. The Land Conservancy’s 32nd Annual Celebration, High Tea at the McHenry Country Club, Woodstock, IL. Tickets are $45-$70 — available here.

I’m excited to moderate “In Conversation Online with Robin Wall Kimmerer,” June 21, 2023, 7-8 pm via Zoom . Brought to you by Illinois Libraries Present. Numbers may be limited, so register here soon!

More classes and programs at www.cindycrosby.com

The Tallgrass Prairie Whispers “Spring”

“There is always in February some one day, at least, when one smells the yet distant, but surely coming, summer.” — Gertrude Jekyll

*****

Sunday evening, Jeff and I stepped outside at twilight to see bright Venus and Jupiter shining in the west. They’ll move toward “the kiss”—an almost-conjunction in the sky—on March 1.

Venus and Jupiter over Crosby’s neighborhood, Glen Ellyn, IL.

As we stood outside in the dark, boots squelching in the melting snow, the smell of the air hit me. It was one part fresh mud, one part thaw, one part fresh laundry. The smell of spring.

Spring? It’s here, folks. Wednesday, March 1—tomorrow—is the first official day of meteorological spring for some; others look to the vernal equinox March 20 to declare the season officially open. No matter which date you choose, spring is here in the vagaries of weather.

Unknown asters, Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.

Ahh. The weather. Monday, two freak tornadoes touched down a few miles from our house. In…February?

Nest, Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.

Yep.

Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.

Some towns near us saw as much rain in a few hours as they usually receive in a month. Temperatures reached almost 60 degrees. It was the fifth warmest Feb 27 since the 1800’s, according to our Chicago weatherman Tom Skilling.

Wild bergamot (Monarada fistulosa), Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.

It’s not only wild weather that says “spring.” Spring is here in the scent of February snowmelt.

Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.

The call of the sandhill cranes headed north. The crocus’s purple petals splayed open in a pocket of sunshine between the porch and the house.

Crocus (Crocus sativus), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Spring is here in the rustle of bleached grasses on the tallgrass prairies.

Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.

We can hear “spring” announced by the crash-bang early morning thunderstorms that rattle the window blinds.

Sawtooth sunflowers (Helianthus grosseserratus), Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.

Spring drops its calling card in the slop of mud on the prairie trails.

Horse (Equus caballus) tracks, Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.

As Jeff and I walked the prairie paths this weekend, we startled a host of American tree sparrows. They are winter residents in the Chicago region, and will soon head to their northern breeding grounds. Cornell University tells me American tree sparrows are a species in steep decline, so I’m heartened to see so many on my walks. I’ll miss them when they leave.

American tree sparrow (Spizelloides arborea), Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.

A string of geese pull each other across the sky.

Canada geese (Branta canadensis), Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.

Now there’s a species that’s thriving! I always think of bowling pins when I see them overhead.

Canada geese (Branta canadensis), Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.

There’s a chatter of red-wing blackbirds which screech and swoop, visible at every turn on the prairie trails.

Red-winged blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus), Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.

Along the trail, he last seedpods wait for prescribed fire to wipe the prairie clean. A fresh start.

Mullein Foxglove (Dasistoma macrophylla), Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.

Even at twilight the slant of the sun hints at the new season transition.

Danada Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL.

Do you feel it? Take a deep breath. Soak it in.

Spring.

It’s here. At last.

******

The opening quote is by Gertrude Jekyll (1843-1932), known for her garden designs in Great Britain. The author of at least 15 books and thousands of articles, she was a painter until her eyesight began to fail, then her garden design talents moved to the fore.

*****

Join Cindy for a Class or Program in March!

Literary Gardens —In Person— March 7, 7-8:30 p.m,– Hosted by the ELA Library and Lake Zurich Garden Club. Location change — now at St. Matthews Lutheran Church, Hawthorn Woods, IL. Free and open to the public. For more information, visit here.

Illinois’ Wild and Wonderful Early Bloomers ONLINE — March 15, 7-8:30 p.m., Hosted by Bensonville Public Library. Free and open to the public, but you must register for the link by calling the library. Contact information here.

Illinois’ Wild and Wonderful Early Bloomers ONLINE –March 16, 7-8:30 p.m., Hosted by the Rock Valley Wild Ones. This event was formerly a blended program and is now online only. Open to the public; but you must register. Contact information is here.

Literary Gardens — In Person —– Saturday, March 18, 9am-12:30 pm. Keynote for “Ready, Set, Grow!” Master Gardeners of Carroll, Lee, Ogle, and Whiteside Counties through The Illinois Extension. Dixon, IL. Registration ($25) is offered here.

The Morton Arboretum’s “Women in the Environment Series”: The Legacy of May T. Watts— (in person and online)—with lead instructor and Sterling Morton Librarian extraordinaire Rita Hassert. March 24, 10-11:30 a.m., Founders Room, Thornhill. Registration information available here.

Literary Gardens–In Person — Wednesday, March 29, 7-8:30 p.m. La Grange Park Public Library, LaGrange, IL. (free but limited to 25 people). For more information, contact the library here.

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

*****

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

November Arrives on the Tallgrass Prairie

“I can no more get enough of a wide prairie than I can of a sunrise…prairie grass is vivid, as if God had just dyed it” —William Quayle

*****

What a beautiful autumn it’s been! I love the opening days of the month; it always feels like a clean slate. A time of beginnings.

Unknowns insects catch the light like snowflakes, with the native but aggressive Canada goldenrod (Solidago canadensis) in the foreground, Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.

As I hiked the prairies and preserves this week, I felt as if I was in a gallery of Impressionist art. Artist Claude Monet would have loved the tallgrass prairie and the Midwestern landscape in the fall.

Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.

The prairie ponds are our own version of Monet’s “Water Lily Pond.”

Prairie cordgrass (Spartina pectinata), Prairie Pond Walk and Dragonfly Landing, Lisle, IL.

What an autumnal palette!

Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.

Subtle shadings in the grasses.

Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.

Bright pops of unexpected color.

Sulphur butterfly (Colias sp.) on the non-native red clover (Trifolium pratense), Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.

A few surprising fliers, late in the season.

Autumn meadowhawk dragonfly (Sympetrum vicinum), Prairie Pond Walk and Dragonfly Landing, Lisle, IL.

So many different ways to see gold.

Prairie cordgrass (Spartina pectinata), Prairie Pond Walk and Dragonfly Landing, Lisle, IL.

An endless procession of color; from lemon to ochre to rust.

Indian hemp or dogbane (Apocynum cannabinum), Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.

You can see the season’s lateness in the skeletal trees, the lone bird’s nest devoid of its occupants.

Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.

Everywhere, seeds spill.

Common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca), Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.

The last wildflowers are in bloom.

Asters (probably Symphyotrichum pilosum or lanceolatum), Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Glen Ellyn, IL.

You might hear the red-winged blackbirds singing, high above the grasses.

Red-winged blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus), Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.

October passed in a blur.

Prairie dropseed (Sporobolus heterolepis), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

How can it be November already? The big holiday season is straight ahead, with a new year on the horizon.

Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downers Grove, IL.

The natural world is in transition. You can smell the crisp fragrance of change in the air.

What an exciting month to go for a hike!

***

The opening quote is from William A. Quayle (1860-1925), a Methodist minister who lived in Kansas, Indiana, and Chicago. This passage first appeared in The Prairie and the Sea (1905), and is reprinted in John T. Price’s edited collection, The Tallgrass Prairie Reader.

****

Join Cindy for a class or program!

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

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

Wednesday, December 7, 2022 (6:30-8:30 p.m.) 100 Years Around the Arboretum. Join Cindy and Library Collections Manager Rita Hassert for a fun-filled evening and a celebratory cocktail as we toast the closing month of the Arboretum’s centennial year. Register here.

Goodnight, Tallgrass Prairie

“I am in love with this world.” — John Burroughs

*****

Daylight savings time kicked in Sunday in the Midwest. An extra hour before sunset! I head to the prairie for a late hike in last light.

Bridge over Willoway Brook, Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

It’s the last days. Each member of the prairie community seems set apart tonight. Who knows when a prescribed burn will wipe the tallgrass slate clean for another season? The fires may arrive at any time. Until then, I want to appreciate everything I see.

I pick up my pace on the muddy two-track.

It will be dark soon.

Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Goodnight, moon.

Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Goodnight to the grasses.

Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Goodnight to the prairie dock.

Prairie dock (Silphium terebinthinaceum), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Goodnight, carrion flower seeds.

Carrion flower (Smilax ecirrhata), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Goodnight mosses and lichens.

Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Goodnight, lingering ice in Willoway Brook.

Willoway Brook, Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Goodnight bur oak.

Bur Oak (Quercus macrocarpa), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Goodnight to the brambles.

Pasture rose (Rosa carolina), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Goodnight to the bridges.

Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Goodnight to the vines.

Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Goodnight to the midges.

Midges (family Chironomidae), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Goodnight, mountain mint.

Common mountain mint (Pycnanthemum virginianum), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Goodnight, houses on the edge of the prairie.

Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Goodnight to the redwing, singing sounds of spring.

Red-winged blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Goodnight to the other redwing, singing back to him.

Red-winged blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Goodnight to the brook, running cold and clean.

Willoway Brook, Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Goodnight to the bundleflower, reflected in the stream.

Illinois bundleflower (Desmanthus illinoensis), Willoway Brook, Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Goodnight air.

Wild quinine (Parthenium integrifolium), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Goodnight chair.

Schulenberg Prairie Savanna, Lisle, IL.

Goodnight sparrows everywhere.

Chipping sparrow (Spizella passerina), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Goodnight prairie.

Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

See you in my dreams.

*********

The opening quote is by John Burroughs (1837-1921),an American writer and naturalist. Almost every year, a book of natural history wins the John Burroughs Medal, an award given in his honor. For a complete list, look here. This post was inspired by many readings of Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown to my children and now, my six grandchildren.

*****

Join Cindy for a class or program (see http://www.cindycrosby.com for more)

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.

A Tallgrass Prairie Thaw

“Beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them. The least we can do is try to be there.” — Annie Dillard

*****

We haven’t seen the last of winter. Snow is in the forecast this week in the Chicago region. But this weekend, spring seemed a little closer. Why? Thaw. Can you smell it in the air? Can you hear the trickle of snow melt, percolating through the frozen earth?

Springbrook Prairie, Naperville, IL.

Sunday, Jeff and I hiked Springbrook Prairie, an 1,829 acre nature preserve in Naperville, IL, drawn outside by the rising mercury in the thermometer, the sunshine, and—yes—the thaw.

Springbrook Prairie, Naperville, IL.

We’re getting closer to the vernal equinox on Sunday, March 20. Soon, the hours of light and dark will balance on the seasonal scale.

Springbrook Prairie, Naperville, IL.

We’re not quite there yet. In the bright sunlight, we can almost imagine it is late March. But February is still winter, by both meteorological and astronomical calendars.

Springbrook Prairie, Naperville, IL.

Despite the ice and snow that claim the tallgrass, the signs of spring on the horizon are evident. Red-winged blackbirds sing on the edges of the wetlands at Springbrook Prairie. Soon they will be dive-bombing us in defense of their nests.

Red-winged blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus), Springbrook Prairie, Naperville, IL.

From its perch, the red-wing has a prime view of the prairie. I’d love to have that vantage point! I’d watch the pond with its icy den. Who is home? Muskrats? Beavers? I’m not sure. I bet the red-wing knows.

Pond at Springbrook Prairie, Naperville, IL.

I wish I could sail high and spy on the ubiquitous white-tailed deer.

White-tailed deer (Odocoileus virginianus borealis), Springbrook Prairie, Naperville, IL.

Or cruise the prairie, watching the bicycles and joggers thread their way through the tallgrass on the sloppy-wet trails. What I wouldn’t give for a birds-eye view from the sky today!

Instead, we’re deep in the thaw. A fine limestone slurry coats our boots.

Springbrook Prairie, Naperville, IL.

Dog walkers trot past, their pooches splattered and patched with gray. I wonder what clean-up will be done before the ride home.

Springbrook Prairie, Naperville, IL.

Thimbleweed lifts its seed puffs trailside.

Thimbleweed (Anemone cylindrica), Springbrook Prairie, Naperville, IL.

The sun tracks low, illuminating the native grasses.

Switchgrass (Panicum virgatum), Springbrook Prairie, Naperville, IL.

Wildflowers turn bright against the backlight.

Springbrook Prairie, Naperville, IL.

Suddenly, two sundogs appear! It’s my first glimpse of this phenomenon this year. Sundogs are difficult to photograph. But how wonderful to stand on the trails and admire those two outrider prisms, equal distances from the sun in the sky. Can you spot them, just over the horizon line?

What a joy to experience sundogs and thaw; redwings and snowmelt. As we head for the parking lot, a hawk—maybe a juvenile redtail?—monitors our progress.

Possibly a juvenile red-tailed hawk (Buteo jamaicensis), Springbrook Prairie, Naperville, IL.

She–or he—flies off into the sunset at our approach, finished with the day’s business.

Possibly a juvenile red-tailed hawk (Buteo jamaicensis), Springbrook Prairie, Naperville, IL.

Jeff and I are finished with our hike. Ready for dinner. And home.

*****

By Monday, our backyard prairie is lank and wet, all soggy grasses with pools of snowmelt. The sun works diligently all morning to erase any traces of winter. As I soak up the light pouring through the kitchen window, thinking about spring burns (and how much my backyard needs one), there’s a flurry of wings. Redpolls!

Common Redpolls (Acanthis flammea), Crosby backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

So many common redpolls. Just in time to close out the Great Backyard Bird Count. This is the first winter we’ve seen these feisty birds in our backyard, thanks to a tutorial by our birding friends on what field marks to look for and what seeds redpolls love.

Common redpolls (Acanthis flammea), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Redpolls swarm the sock feeders, mob the seed tubes, line the tray feeder and gobble the nyjer thistle tossed on the porch. I call Jeff to the window. Together, we attempt to count them. Ten. Thirty. Fifty. Seventy—and so many others in the trees! A group of redpolls, I’ve learned, is called “a gallop of redpolls.” We certainly have a herd of them!

We estimate almost a hundred, perched in trees, loitering at the feeders, hopping around on the roof. Where did they come from? Are they on their way…where? Back to their Arctic habitat, perhaps? It’s difficult to know. I hope this isn’t goodbye for the season. But if it is goodbye, that’s okay. What a dramatic finale it would be.

Common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca), Springbrook Prairie, Naperville, IL.

Nature has a way of surprising us with wonders.

Springbrook Prairie, Naperville, IL.

All we have to do is show up and pay attention.

******

The opening quote is one of my all-time favorites by the writer Annie Dillard (1945-). I read her Pulitzer Prize-winning Pilgrim at Tinker Creek every year. Wrote Eudora Welty in the New York Times Book Review, “The book is a form of meditation, written with headlong urgency, about seeing.” It’s a good one.

*******

Join Cindy for a class or program in February!

February 26 — Plant a Little Prairie in Your Yard for Citizens for Conservation. Barrington, IL. (10 am-11:30 am.) Open to the public with registration. Contact them here.

February 26 ––Conservation: The Power of Story for the “2022 Community Habitat Symposium: Creating a Future for Native Ecosystems” at Joliet Junior College. Tickets available at (https://illinoisplants.org/). (Cindy’s afternoon program is part of the all-day events)

Grateful thanks to John Heneghan and Tricia Lowery, who gave us the redpolls tutorial and are always ready to help with bird ID.

Summer Tallgrass Prairie Delights

“I started with surprise and delight. I was in the midst of a prairie! A world of grass and flowers stretched around me… .” — Eliza Steele

*****

The summer speeds by. Where did June go?

Red-winged blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus) on compass plant (Silphium laciniatum)

Each day in June on the tallgrass prairie is another exercise in wonder.

Late June on the tallgrass prairie

The last days of June seem determined to bombard us with blooms.

Wild petunia (Ruellia humilis)

Pearls of wild quinine wash across the prairie.

Wild quinine (Parthenium integrifolium)

Pale pink Kankakee mallows spike through cordgrass. My, what big leaves you have!

Kankakee mallow (Iliamna remota)

Bright white candles of Culver’s root light up the tallgrass.

Culver’s root (Veronicastrum virginicum)

Purple sparklers of leadplant, ready for the Fourth of July.

Leadplant (Amorpha canescens)

And, tumbling across the prairie in drifts: Scurfy pea. What a great name!

Scurfy pea (Psoralidium tenuiflorum)

June dazzles us with unexpected delights.

Great blue skimmer dragonfly (Libellula vibrans), my first sighting in 16 years of dragonfly monitoring!

June puzzles us with stranger-than-strange creatures.

Common water strider—looking uncommonly strange

June wows us with wildflowers.

Bridge over Willoway Brook

Even the late June skies are full of marvels from moment to moment; from storm to storm.

Clouds over the tallgrass prairie in late June

This month, so much vies for our attention. Each flower seems to have a tiny pollinator in residence.

Thimbleweed (Anemone cylindrica) with a skipper, possibly the Hobomok Skipper (Lon hobomok)

Or two. Or three. Or more!

Purple prairie clover (Dalea purpurea) with pollinators

Looking back on June, it was a wonderful month to hike the tallgrass prairie.

Red-winged blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus) on the tallgrass prairie in June

How will July on the prairie ever measure up to June?

Late June on the tallgrass prairie

Impossible for July to do so, it seems. The past weeks have been so beautiful. And yet.

Compass plants (Silphium laciniatum)

I can’t wait to see what’s ahead.

****

The opening quote is from Eliza Steele’s journal, written in 1840 as she rode to Peoria by stagecoach from Chicago. Her journal was later published as the book, A Summer Journey in the West in 1841. Interested in learning more about her journey? Check out Midewin Tallgrass Prairie’s webinar “On the Trail of Eliza Steele” July 7, 6-7 p.m. CDT, by calling 815-423-6370.

*****

All photos this week are from the Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

*****

Join Cindy for a class or program this summer!

Beginning Dragonfly and Damselfly ID: online Monday, July 12 and Wednesday, July 14 (two-part class) 10-11:30 am. Offered through The Morton Arboretum. The first session is an introduction to the natural history of the dragonfly, with beautiful images and recommended tools and techniques for identification of species commonly found in northern and central Illinois. Then, put your skills to work outside on your own during the following day in any local preserve, park, or your own backyard. The second session will help you with your field questions and offer more advanced identification skills. To conclude, enjoy an overview of the cultural history of the dragonfly—its place in art, literature, music, and even cuisine! You’ll never see dragonflies in the same way again. To register, click here.

Virtual Summer Prairie Wildflower Walk: online Thursday, July 22, 10-11:30 a.m. Offered through The Morton Arboretum. No matter where you live, join me on Zoom to see the amazing summer tallgrass prairie wildflowers and hear their stories of uses in medicine, folklore, poetry, and even as love charms! Register here.

The Prairie in Early June

“When the soul lies down in that grass; the world is too full to talk about.” — Rumi

******

Hello, June!! By the meteorological calendar, June 1 is also the first day of summer, although many of us will hold out for the “astronomical summer” date or solstice, June 20.

Bridge over Willoway Brook, Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

By any reckoning, it’s a new season on the prairie. Aldo Leopold wrote, “In June as many as a dozen species may burst their buds on a single day. No man can heed all of these anniversaries; no man can ignore all of them.” I want to “heed” them all! But how to choose what to see? A hundred species—animal, vegetable, mineral—clamor for attention. The bumblebee pushing its way into the American vetch blossom over here….

Bumblebee (Bombus sp.) on American vetch (Vicia americana), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

…or the tiny immature female eastern forktail damselfly, clinging to a grass blade…

Immature female eastern forktail damselfly (Ischnura verticalis), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

…or the insect hiding in the spiderwort. Sort of ironic. (Even if spiders aren’t insects.)

Ohio spiderwort (Tradescantia ohiensis) with unknown insect, Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

You can’t miss the red-winged blackbird, its wing tattooed with floral shadows.

Redwinged blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus) perched on great angelica (Angelica atropurpurea), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

What a racket he makes! No doubt a nest is nearby. Nearly everyone has a story about being dive-bombed by a protective red-winged “daddy” bird. I give him plenty of space.

Blooms, blooms. It’s a wildflower extravaganza.

Wild quinine (Parthenium integrifolium), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Marvel at the architecture of stem, leaf, and flower.

Possibly upright carrion vine (Smilax ecirrhata), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Each bloom is a wonder.

Pasture rose (Rosa carolina), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

The colorless wildflowers…

Prairie phlox (Phlox pilosa), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

…are no less beautiful than the colorful ones.

Prairie phlox (Phlox pilosa), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Look for the unusual, in structure and hue.

Late horse gentian (Triosteum perfoliatum), sometimes called wild coffee, Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

In each stage of bud and bloom is the opportunity to see a familiar wildflower with new eyes.

Pale purple coneflower (Echinacea pallida) Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

The buds may seem more intriguing than the blooms.

Ohio spiderwort (Tradescantia ohiensis), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Many wildflowers are easy to miss. Unless you slow down and pay attention.

Prairie alumroot (Heuchera richardsonii), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

I love the infinite variety of wildflowers just past their prime; the tension between what has been, and what is yet to come.

Shooting star (Dodacatheon meadia), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

The transitions are as delightful as the blooms themselves…and sometimes more so.

Common valerian (Valeriana edulis), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Watch for the flowers to go to seed, ready to set sail on the slightest puff of wind.

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

Just think! Each seed holds the secrets of next year’s prairie.

Prairie dock (Silphium terabinthinaceum) with shadow of prairie alumroot (Heuchera richardsonii), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Change is happening, so fast that I can’t keep up with it.

Trail through the Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Standing on the threshold of June, anything seems possible.

*****

Rumi (1207-1273) was a scholar, poet, and theologian born in what is today known as Afghanistan. The opening quote is from his poem, “A Great Wagon.”

*****

Join Cindy for a program or class this summer!

The Tallgrass Prairie: Illinois Original Garden Online: June 2, 7-8:30 p.m. Illinois’ nickname is “The Prairie State.” Listen to stories of the history of the tallgrass prairie and its amazing plants and creatures –-from blooms to butterflies to bison. Discover plants that work well in the home garden as you enjoy learning about Illinois’ “landscape of home.” Presented by Sag Moraine Native Plant Community. More information here.

Literary Gardens Online: June 8, 6:30-7:30 p.m. Join master gardener and natural history writer Cindy Crosby for a fun look at gardens in literature and poetry. From Agatha Christie’s mystery series, to Brother Cadfael’s medieval herb garden, to Michael Pollan’s garden in “Second Nature,” to the “secret garden” beloved of children’s literature, there are so many gardens that helped shape the books we love to read. Discover how gardens and garden imagery figure in the works of Mary Oliver, Henry Mitchell, Barbara Kingsolver,  Lewis Carroll–and many more! See your garden with new eyes—and come away with a list of books you can’t wait to explore. Registration through the Downers Grove Public Library coming soon here.

Plant A Backyard Prairie: Online, Wednesday, June 9 and Friday, June 11, 11am-12:30pm CST –Bring the prairie to your doorstep! Turn a corner of your home landscape into a pocket-size prairie. If you think prairie plants are too wild for a home garden, think again! You can create a beautiful planted area that welcomes pollinators and wildlife without raising your neighbors’ eyebrows. In this online class, you will learn: how to select the right spot for your home prairie; which plants to select and their many benefits, for wildlife, and for you; creative ways to group plants for a pleasing look, and how to care for your prairie. Plus, you’ll get loads of inspiration from beautiful photos and stories that will bring your backyard prairie to life before you even put a single plant in the ground. Offered through The Morton Arboretum. Register here.

The Wild Garden’s Frequent Fliers: Dragonflies and Damselflies: Online, Thursday June 17, 7-8:30 p.m. CDT, Rock River Valley Wild Ones. Discover the wild and wonderful lives of these fascinating insects with the author of “Chasing Dragonflies” in this hour-long interactive Zoom program (with Q&A to follow). To join Rock River Valley Wild Ones and participate, discover more here.

Six Reasons to Hike the July Prairie

“The prairie is bountifully utilitarian.  But it is lovely too, in a hundred thousand ways and in a million details, many of them so finely wrought that one must drop to one’s knees to appreciate them.”– Paul Gruchow

******

Yes, it’s hot. Okay, more than hot. It’s downright scorching. Hike the prairie? You’ve got to be kidding.

I kid you not. Let’s go! Why? Here are half a dozen reasons to hike the tallgrass prairie in July. Go ahead–dress light, hydrate, slather on that bug spray and sunscreen—and let’s go.

#1. Oh those butterflies! Big ones, like this common but yet oh-so-uncommonly-beautiful Spangled Meadow Fritillary, nectaring at false sunflower in the prairie savanna.

Or the tiny ones, like this Eastern Tailed Blue, barely visible in the tallgrass.

You might see the Pearl Crescent, fluttering ahead on the path.

Wait! I think it is a pearl crescent, but I’m not completely sure. Evidently they are almost indistinguishable from the Northern Crescents. Some folks say they are both the same species, rather than two distinct ones. Ah, well. At least I know for sure when I see a Monarch, like this one nectaring on butterfly weed, one of our native milkweeds in Illinois.

Not into butterflies? Consider hiking to admire the wildflowers. Why?

#2. July’s prairie wildflowers are show-stoppers. Wow-oh-wow. So much orange. There’s the native Turk’s Cap Lily, just coming into bloom.

Not to be confused with the invasive daylilies, escaped from tamer plantings in gardens and along roadsides.

Although they often find a seat in our gardens, we weed them out of prairie restorations when they show up. Otherwise, they’d take over the prairie.

More orange: The aforementioned butterfly weed screams its hues in infinite color variations of  neon orange across the prairie.

Other native milkweeds are more nuanced, like this swamp milkweed.

Even the much-maligned common milkweed, which is—well, weedy,—has a scent that has to be sniffed to be believed. Some sprang up in my clematis just off the back patio. When my husband Jeff passed it the first time it opened this summer, he stopped in his tracks. What’s that great smell?

Mountain mint is in bloom, barely visible in the tallgrass unless you know where to look. A chewed leaf is a guaranteed breath freshener on a hot day.

Glade mallow, the only member of its genus that occurs in Illinois, is in full bloom.

It’s difficult to miss, towering over my head. Much easier to walk by without noticing is the fringed loosestrife, a modest little plant with its flowers pointing downward.

Not to be confused with purple loosestrife,a rampant invasive, fringed loosestrife is a desirable native. Gerould Wilhelm and Laura Rericha’s Flora of the Chicago Region gives it a “7” for its coefficient of conservatism. Its anther surface “fluoresces brightly” (or glows) when seen under long-wave ultraviolet light, Wilhelm writes, and it appears “otherworldly.” I’d love to see this for myself.

Nearby is white wild indigo; some plants still emerging, other bloom stalks mature and withering in the heat. A male red-winged blackbird finds indigo the perfect perch to warn me off its nest.

I also love the wild petunia for its seeming tenacity, although its coefficient of conservatism is an “8”.  It pops up every year in the same general location on the mowed prairie paths.

Buckeye butterfly caterpillars are big fans of this wildflower. It’s also attractive to numerous pollinators, especially different bee species.

You might know many of the wildflower names. But do you know their stories?

3. Got ethnobotany? Got—what? Ethnobotany is just a term we use to talk about how humans have used plants throughout history (and today!). The prairie is full of plants that are both beautiful and utilitarian, and as the wonderful prairie writer Paul Gruchow once said in a chapter from his book: Grass Roots: The Universe of Home, there need not be any contradiction between the two. A good example is Wild Quinine, in full bloom now.

Some people know it as “feverfew,” which tells you how confusing common names can be (there are several other plants with this nickname). That’s why it’s always good to look at the scientific name, in this case, Parthenium integrifolium. Daniel Moerman, in his amazing book, Native American Ethnobotany, tells us that one Native American tribe used a poultice of fresh leaves of this plant to dress burns. Another tribe believed the leave’s ashes were a veterinary treatment for sore backs in horses.

And look at its value for insects! Wavy-lined emerald moth larvae occur in the inflorescences, according to Wilhelm and Rericha. Butterflies such as the American Lady, Pearl Crescent, and Common Wood-Nymph visit the flowers, they tell us. As I read, I learn that bees that visit the flowerheads when the staminate florets are blooming become coated with white pollen and “resemble little ghosts.” I’ve not seen this! Obviously, I need to sit for a while with this plant and pay more attention.

Another plant in bloom is Elderberry, which Illinois Wildflowers tells us occurs in every county of Illinois. Its small, edible fruits—somewhat poisonous when raw—have none-the-less been used (when cooked correctly) in jellies, wine, and pies, and are often used in homeopathic remedies for flu and colds. Native Americans used plants in the same genus for everything from making whistles to using infusions of the blossoms for upset stomachs, Moerman writes in Native American Ethnobotany.

I particularly love New Jersey Tea, a prairie shrub whose blooms cover parts of the prairie like a foamy cappuccino in July. The Dakota used the leaves to make a tea-like beverage, although as I understand it, there is no caffeine. I have a small New Jersey tea plant growing in my prairie garden this season, and although it didn’t bloom this summer, I have high hopes for next year.

Each prairie plant has an ethnobotanical story to tell us. All we have to do is invest a little time into learning that story, and then, share it with others. It’s a non-stop adventure! I particularly love Daniel Moerman’s Native American Ethobotany as a venue to discover some of these stories. Check it out, if you love stories as I do! Although many of the plant remedies and uses are not considered valid today, your prairie hikes will open you up to these stories that will fill you with gratitude for the utility of these beautiful plants over time, and the place they earned in the lives of people who depended on the prairie as their pharmacy, grocery store, and craft shop.

Still need more reasons?

#4. Find a respite from the news.  Tuck your phone away where you can’t reach it easily, put all thoughts of politics and pandemics away, and let the tallgrass prairie clear the cobwebs from your mind. Admire the tall bellflowers that edge the tallgrass.

Soak up the sunshine of false sunflowers, having a banner season despite the blistering heat.

Marvel over the smooth phlox with its hairless stems and vivid color. Moths, bees, and butterflies all love this plant, a harbinger of summer.

And then, look deeper into the tallgrass. So dainty and silent, you’ll see these… .

#5. Learn the names of some damselflies. Aren’t they beautiful creatures worth your time and attention? Their very names seem to sing.

Variable dancer.

Ebony jewelwing.

Powdered dancer.

The American Rubyspot can be found along the river and stream edges in the Chicago Region. Their bright wing spots make them unmistakable.

One of the most common damselflies in the Chicago region is the blue-fronted dancer. Last season, at Nachusa Grasslands, it was our most numerous damselfly.

And once you see the damselflies, consider…

#6. Dragonflies, too! While you’re learning damselflies, why not discover a few names for dragonflies?

Male eastern amberwings.

And their counterparts, the female eastern amberwings.

The female calico pennants are charming, no matter what angle you see them at.

These are only half a dozen reasons to hike the tallgrass prairie this week. Grab your water bottle, swipe on some sunscreen…

…and why not go see?

*****

Paul Gruchow (1947-2004) was a Minnesota writer who loved the Boundary Waters and tallgrass prairies. If you haven’t read his writing, try Journal of a Prairie Year, or Grass Roots: The Universe of Home.

*****

All photos copyright Cindy Crosby, and taken on the Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL this week (top to bottom): bridge over Willoway Brook; great spangled fritillary (Speyeria cybele); eastern-tailed blue butterfly (Cupido comyntas);  possibly pearl crescent butterfly (Phyciodes tharos); monarch butterfly (Danaus plexippus); turk’s cap lily (Lilium superbum) with fleabane (Erigeron); common daylily (Hemerocallis fulva); butterfly weed (Asclepias tuberosa); swamp milkweed (Asclepias incarnata); common mountain mint  (Pycnanthemum virginianum); glade mallow (Napaea dioica); prairie loosestrife (Lysimachia quadriflora); red-winged blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus) on white wild indigo (Baptisia ); trail with wild petunias (Ruellia humilis); wild petunia (Ruellia humilis) with unidentified bee; wild quinine (Parthenium integrifolium); elderberry ((Sambucus nigra canadensis)); New Jersey tea (Ceanothus americanus); tall bellflower (Campanula americana); false sunflower (Heliopsis helianthoides); smooth phlox (Phlox glaberrima interior); variable dancer damselfly (Argia fumipennis); ebony jewelwing damselfly (Calopteryx maculata); powdered dancer damselfly (Argia moesta); American rubyspot damselfly (Hetaerina americana); blue-fronted dancer (Argia apicalis); male eastern amberwing dragonfly (Perithemis tenera); female eastern amberwing dragonfly (Perithemis tenera); female calico pennant dragonfly (Celithemis elisa); one of the rudbeckias, still working on this ID. It was part of a planting into our prairie display strip with a commercial “native” mix–or it has escaped into it. Pretty! But is it one of our natives? Still working on that. What do you think? (Rudbeckia spps.).

******

Join Cindy for online dragonfly classes and online prairie ecology and ethnobotany classes this summer:

REGISTER BEFORE MIDNIGHT TONIGHT! “Dragonfly and Damselfly Beginning ID Online” through The Morton Arboretum. July 8 and July 10 –two morning classes online, with a day in between for you to work independently in the field, then bring your questions back for help. Register here.

“Prairie Ethnobotany Online” –through The Morton Arboretum. July 31 and August 7, 9-11 a.m. with a week  in between to enjoy your knowledge in the field. Learn about how people have used and enjoyed prairie plants through history. Register here.

“Tallgrass Prairie Ecology Online” begins a new session in September! Work from home at your own pace (with suggested assignment deadlines) for 60 days to complete the material, and meet other prairie volunteers and stewards on the discussion boards and in the optional ZOOM session. Register here.

Just released! Chasing Dragonflies: A Natural, Cultural, and Personal History. Order now from your favorite indie bookstore such as the Morton Arboretum Store and The Bookstore of Glen Ellyn, or online at bookshop.org and other book venues. Order direct through Northwestern University Press and receive 40% off this new book and/or “The Tallgrass Prairie: An Introduction”— use coupon code SUN40. Thank you for supporting small presses, bookstores, and writers during this chaotic time.

Want more prairie? 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.  

Spring on the Prairie

“All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” — J.R.R. Tolkien

******

Spring! It’s here—at last—on the Chicago region’s prairies.

Hiking the prairie in April is like going to a class reunion. So many friends you haven’t seen for a long time. Look! Cream gentians.

You realize how much you’ve missed each native plant species since you last saw them a year ago in April. Ahhhh. Spring beauties.

And, like any reunion, there are a few old acquaintances you wish hadn’t shown up. Oh no...garlic mustard.

After a wild week of snow and sunshine, Jeff and I left the confines of our house to explore the East Prairie at College of DuPage in Glen Ellyn. With almost 30,000 commuting students, COD is the largest community college in Illinois and a hop, skip, and a jump from our house. Its large, modern buildings and campus are set in the midst of several well-tended planted prairies, which owe a lot to the work of Russell Kirt, a now retired professor there.

The weather has taken an abrupt turn toward warmth and blue skies. It feels so good to be outdoors…and somewhere other than our backyard. Our dilemma was only — should we look up?

Those skies! Or should we look down…

…so much green growth and change. Everywhere, the life of the prairie and its adjacent wetlands offered something to marvel over. Small pollinators hummed around the willows. Try as I might, I’m not able to get a good insect ID.

Relax, I tell myself. Just enjoy the day. And so I do.

*****

Less than a mile from COD’s prairies—in my suburban backyard—the first cabbage white butterfly appeared this week, drawn to the wreath of marsh marigolds in my small pond. After two snows in the past seven days…

…the marsh marigolds were a little worse for wear, but not defeated. A cardinal soundtrack—Cheer Cheer Cheer Cheer Cheer—made Monday’s sunny afternoon feel even more spring-like.

I sat on the back porch and watched the cabbage white until it was out of sight. Usually, the first butterfly I see on the marsh marigolds is the red admiral. Had it already arrived—-and I missed it? Or was it slower to emerge this season? And—where were the chorus frogs that called from my little pond last year? They didn’t show up in March.  My Kankakee mallow is absent from the prairie patch this April. Shouldn’t it be up by now?

So many questions. What other changes will unfold? Will the bullfrogs appear this summer? What about the great spreadwing damselfly that appeared in the pond last summer? I wonder. What will the next months bring?

Every spring has a tinge of uncertainty. This April has more than its share.

*****

Earlier this week, Jeff and I checked to see how April is progressing at St. Stephen Cemetery Prairie, a small two-acre remnant in DuPage County. It was great to see it had been burned at a time when many prescribed fire events have been postponed. Kudos to Milton Township and its volunteers! Bee balm, goldenrod and asters are visible through the chain-link fence opening.

Purple meadow rue shows off its distinctive leaf forms.

I love the history of this place. Once, there was a little community called Gretna close to Carol Stream. A Catholic church, founded in 1852, put two acres of native prairie aside to reserve them as potential cemetery plots for its members, many who had immigrated from Germany. These acres were never plowed. Never grazed.

This was the first prairie where I saw wild senna. More than 50 native species are preserved here, including Culver’s root, spiderwort, and prairie dock. Nearby are the gravestones with the names: Miller, Dieter, Stark. The little community of Gretna and its church are gone, but the prairie lives on.

As we hike past the cemetery, we notice a brochure box.  Being cautious, as we have to be in these times, we read as much as we can through the plexiglass. A Midwestern cholera epidemic in the 19th Century killed infants and small children. Some are buried here.

When we returned home, I read more about the cholera epidemic and the 1918 influenza epidemic in the Midwest. I found an interesting article by Dr. Walter J. Daly in 2008 in The U.S. National Library of Medicine and National Institutes of Health, which concluded:

There was an important difference in public attitude about the two epidemics, 19^th Century cholera in the Midwest and 1918 influenza: in the case of cholera, the people believed the local atmosphere was at fault, consequently flight was attractive. In 1918, they knew the disease was contagious, whatever it was; they knew it was everywhere; flight would not be successful. Nevertheless, some fled.  Since mid-19^th Century, the people have moved ahead. Public opinion is still influenced by business interests and the editors of news distributors. Certainly, they expect more of medical science than did their ancestors. Yet some reactions are probably imbedded in human behavior: to seek explanations and accept unworldly ones if others do not satisfy, to blame strangers among us, to flee if a safer place might be available, to postpone action, and then to forget rather than to learn from it, once the disaster is past.

Sounds familiar.

I’m struck by the predictable and the unpredictable as I hike the different prairies this week. Many of the rhythms of the prairie continue, oblivious to the unfolding chaos around them. Spring comes to the prairie as it does any other year: rattlesnake master…

…and gentians and bee balm emerging alongside shooting star.

Spring beauties and violets are in bloom. April is underway, as it has been for thousands of years in the tallgrass.

Yes, there are changes. In many places, prescribed fire has been cancelled. Some prairies are seeing an influx of hikers longing to get outside; other prairies are closed to the public for the first time for safety.

In Illinois, our shelter in place was announced March 20. As I write this on April 20, uncertainty reigns. When will life be “normal” again? Will it ever be the same? If the pandemic comes to an end, what will we have learned —as individuals, as a nation? Or, as Dr. Daly asks after recounting responses to the cholera epidemic and influenza epidemics more than 100 years ago, will we forget what we’re learning once the disaster is past?

So many media articles these past weeks advise me what to do with my “sheltering in place” time. Organize a closet. Try a new recipe. Get my finances in order. The days pass so quickly, sometimes without much seemingly getting done. Some mornings I count  successful if I’m up and dressed. My one priority has been to get outside and walk. Some days, it seems,  that this is the main event.

I’ve decided that’s okay. It’s these wildflowers and spring birds; pollinators and cloud-painted skies that keep me searching out quiet prairies to hike, when my usual prairies are closed or unavailable to me. Each time I go for a walk, I’m reminded of the beauty of the world. After each hike, I come home refreshed. I feel more hopeful. I find renewed energy to tackle the deceptively normal demands of home and work.

There’s so much we don’t know.  Even the “predictable” rhythms of the natural world are subjected to interruptions and change. An expected butterfly fails to show up. My pond is empty of frogs. A reliable plant fails to appear in its appointed place.

When change comes, I have my memories of past springs. The call of the chorus frogs. The contrast of the red admiral against the marsh marigolds. That Kankakee mallow bloom—wow! I remember its pink. And–as I miss the prairies and savannas I frequented that have been temporarily closed to the public, I can remember what’s in bloom there now; the pasque flowers, the bloodroot in the little copse of trees…

…the first tentative flowering of wood betony, and the tiny pearls of bastard toadflax.

I miss those prairies I can no longer access, closed or inaccessible because of the pandemic, but I feel comfort in thinking about them. Because of my relationship to these prairies—mornings spent on hands and knees ID’ing plants, hours spent logging dragonfly data, hiking them in all weathers—their stories are part of my story. My absence now doesn’t change that relationship.

If a time comes when I get older that I’m unable to hike anymore,  I will be grateful to have these memories.  I’ll be hiking these prairies then in my memories and dreams.

Today, I’m grateful for the memories I have tucked away of my favorite places. Even as I find new places to hike, I follow the progress of those prairies I’m missing and know so well in my mind and my heart.

Not even a pandemic can change that.

****

The opening quote is from Oxford English language scholar J.R.R. Tolkien (1892-1973), best known for The Hobbit and  The Lord of the Rings series. He was also known for speaking out on environmental issues in the 1960s. His imaginary “Middle-earth” brought hours of read-aloud delight to our family.

All photos and video clip  copyright Cindy Crosby (top to bottom): College of DuPage Natural Areas, Glen Ellyn, IL; invasive garlic mustard (Alliaria petiolata), Glen Ellyn, IL; cream gentian (Gentiana alba), College of DuPage Natural Areas, Glen Ellyn, IL; spring beauty (Claytonia virginica), College of DuPage Natural Areas, Glen Ellyn, IL; bee balm (Monarda fistulosa) with some unknown bedstraw (Galium spp.), College of DuPage Natural Areas, Glen Ellyn, IL; unknown willow (Salix sp.) and pollinators, College of DuPage Natural Areas, Glen Ellyn, IL; marsh marigolds (Caltha palustris) under snow, author’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL; video clip of marsh marigolds (Caltha palustris), author’s backyard pond, Glen Ellyn, IL; St. Stephen Cemetery and Prairie, DuPage County, IL; probably purple meadow rue (Thalictrum dasycarpum), St. Stephen Cemetery and Prairie, DuPage County, IL; St. Stephen Cemetery and Prairie, DuPage County, IL; brochure box, St. Stephen Cemetery and Prairie, DuPage County, IL; prairie dropseed (Sporobolis heterolepis), College of DuPage Natural Areas, Glen Ellyn, IL; rattlesnake master (Eryngium yuccifolium), College of DuPage Natural Areas, Glen Ellyn, IL; shooting star (Dodecatheon meadia), College of DuPage Natural Areas, Glen Ellyn, IL;  common blue violet (Viola sororia sororia), College of DuPage Natural Areas, Glen Ellyn, IL; various mosses and their associates, St. Stephen Cemetery and Prairie, DuPage County, IL; box elder (Acer negundo), St. Stephen Cemetery and Prairie, DuPage County, IL; bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis) and bee fly (Bombylius sp.), Schulenberg Prairie Savanna, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL (taken in 2019); bastard toadflax (Comandra umbellata), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL (taken in 2019); red-winged blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus), College of DuPage Natural Areas, Glen Ellyn, IL.

*****

TONIGHT: “THE NATURE OF CONSERVATION” panel discussion with Peggy Notebaert Museum. FREE!

Join me from wherever you are sheltering in place for “The Nature of Conservation,” April 21, 6:30-8:30 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.

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.