May on the Tallgrass Prairie

“As full of spirit as the month of May… .” —William Shakespeare

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At last! It’s May on the tallgrass prairie. And what weather.

Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Bruise-colored clouds. Bone-chilling 40-ish degree temperatures. Sleet.

Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Hit me with some sunshine, May. Please.

Despite the weekend weather, Jeff suggested a prairie hike in the drizzle. I admit the siren call of a good book and the warmth of the fireplace made me hesitate. But I slipped on my boots and headed out.

Blue-winged teals (Anas discors), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

As always, once we got there, the beauty of the prairie and savanna made up for the weather. In the savanna, the Virginia bluebells have held onto their blooms in the chilly temperatures.

Virginia bluebells (Mertensia virginica) and celandine poppies (Stylophorum diphyllum), Schulenberg Prairie Savanna, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

The celandine poppies are bright spots in the rain.

Virginia bluebells (Mertensia virginica) and celandine poppies (Stylophorum diphyllum), Schulenberg Prairie Savanna, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

As we leave the savanna and move onto the prairie, I note the first shooting star.

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

It’s the earliest of so many more shooting star blooms to come. I doublecheck the prairie smoke which is holding its flowers nicely in the cold weather. The Xerces Society tells me bumblebees are the primary pollinators for the prairie smoke, using a process called buzz pollination. Same for the shooting star. Cool!

Prairie smoke (Geum triflorum), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

The size of our prairie smoke is so tiny. But it packs a lot of punch—that hot pink–for such a little wildflower.

Prairie smoke (Geum triflorum) and shooting star (Dodecatheon meadia), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Low to the ground, the bastard toadflax offers its pearled cream blooms to those of us willing to get down on our knees to appreciate them.

Bastard toadflax (Comandra umbellata), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Easier said to “kneel down” than done for some of us, but it’s a good way to eyeball these spring wildflowers. They bloom right at about early May’s grass height. Prairie wildflowers will continue to unfurl just above the grasses until July, when suddenly, the grasses will make a break for the sky, and the compass plant, cup plant, and prairie dock will hoist their sunny blooms high. Next we’ll have the autumn wildflowers—goldenrods, asters, bonesets—waving tall and signaling the season’s end. But autumn seems far away. For now, it’s all about new beginnings.

Field pussytoes (Antennaria neglecta), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

There is plenty to contemplate in this newly emerging prairie landscape. So much to imagine. So much to anticipate.

Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Everywhere, the cream wild indigo pushes its asparagus-looking stalks through the cindered earth. It, along with the wild white indigo, is toxic to mammals, so early farmers had to ensure their livestock didn’t graze on its leaves. I admire the indigo for its blue-hued stems and the gorgeous creamy blooms that will sprawl across the prairie in just a few weeks.

Cream wild indigo (Baptisia bracteata), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Meadow rue’s distinctive leaves catch the rain. Soon, it will be almost as tall as I am.

Purple meadow rue (Thalictrum dasycarpum), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

And look at those compass plant leaves! Miniature delights.

Compass plant (Silphium laciniatum), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

In an unburned part of the acreage, the first prairie violets bloom.

Prairie violet (Viola pedatifida), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Unlike their cousins, the blue violets (Illinois’ state flower), prairie violets have distinctive deeply-lobed palmate leaves. We don’t have many of this species on this prairie, so I appreciate the prairie violets where I find them.

Prairie violet (Viola pedatifida), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

As we reach the bridge, Jeff and I pause to comment on the low water levels in Willoway Brook. As if in answer, the heavens open and rain begins. I pull my coat a little tighter around me.

Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

The rain becomes sleet. Then graupel, that tiny soft hail. Brrrrr.

Prairie dropseed (Sporobolus heterolepis), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

It’s been a tough day for a hike. We’re thoroughly chilled by the time we make it back to the parking lot and turn the heater on full blast. And yet.

I’m glad Jeff suggested we go for a prairie walk in the rain today.

Eastern bluebird (Sialia sialis), Schulenberg Praire, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Just think of what we would have missed if we stayed home!

What will you discover on your hike today?

I hope it is full of wonders.

*****

The opening quote is from William Shakespeare’s Henry IV, Part 1, Act 4, Scene 1. You can watch one performance of this play here.

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Join Cindy for a Class or Program this Spring

Spring Wildflower and Ethnobotany Walk—Thursday, May 4, 5-7 p.m., The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL. Registration information here. (This walk is SOLD OUT; please call and ask to be put on a waiting list) Walks move indoors for a classroom program if weather prohibits meeting outside.

Illinois’ Wild and Wonderful Early Bloomers—Thursday, May 11, 9:30-10:30 a.m. Sponsored by the Hilltop Gardeners Garden Club, Oswego Public Library, Oswego, IL. Free and open to the public. For more information closer to the date, check here.

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

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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.

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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 Art of Prairie Attention

“Paying attention: This is our endless and proper work.” — Mary Oliver

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The sun rises through the fog on the Schulenberg Prairie and Savanna.

Everywhere, spiders hang misted veils. The spiders are present every day on the prairie—no doubt—but usually, spider webs are invisible. Until, as the writer Richard Powers writes in The Overstory —they are “dew-betrayed.”

The spiders’ silk draperies, paired with the prairie’s autumn seed heads and dying leaves, coerced my attention for far longer on Monday morning than planned. My hike–which was supposed to be a doctor-mandated 30 minutes—was extended as I lingered. (Just five more minutes!) But how can you tear yourself away from a morning full of magic? One crystal web chandelier led to another….then another… .

After the hike, as I enjoyed my morning cup of Joe, I stumbled on a wonderful article from BrainPickings about the art of paying attention. It’s framed around Marla Popova’s review of “On Looking: Eleven Walks with Expert Eyes” by Alexandra Horowitz. The gist of the book’s message is this: we can re-frame the ordinary by using different lenses to see what we usually miss. In the review, Popova recounts how Horowitz accomplishes “seeing” with new eyes by strolling through her city neighborhood with a visually impaired person,  a geologist, and her dog (to name just three lenses). Intrigued? Me too. Papova calls the book “breathlessly wonderful.” (It’s now on hold for me at the library.)

I’ve been thinking more these days about the art of paying attention, and what it means to see with new eyes. One lens I use is books. Others writers  prod me to understand and view my familiar places through different lenses. I learn from their words. Then, I “see” more completely.

After surgery seven weeks ago, the simple act of walking my favorite prairie paths is no longer something I take for granted. What follows are a few images from a morning walk in the fog this week. They are paired with  favorite quotes I think about often, and a few new quotes I gleaned from Popova’s review.

Read the quotes slowly. Reflect on what they say. Then, tuck these thoughts into your days ahead. I hope they speak to you as they have to me.

*****

“Attention without feeling is only a report.”–Mary Oliver

“Choice of attention—to pay attention to this and ignore that—is to the inner life what choice of action is to the outer.” –W.H. Auden

“These days cry out, as never before, for us to pay attention.” — Anne Lamott

 

“How we spend our days, is of course, how we spend our lives.” — Annie Dillard

“…we humans generally do not bother paying attention to much other than the visual.” –Alexandra Horowitz

“For observing nature, the best pace is a snail’s pace.” — Edwin Way Teale

“To learn something new, take the path that you took yesterday.” — John Burroughs

“The art of seeing has to be learned.” — Marguerite Duras

“Half of tracking is knowing where to look; the other half is looking.” — Susan Morse

“Joys come from simple and natural things; mist over meadows, sunlight on leaves, the path of the moon over water. Even rain and wind and stormy clouds bring joy.” — Sigurd F. Olson

“As we work to heal the land, the land heals us.”–Robin Wall Kimmerer

“The art of seeing might have to be learned, but it can never be unlearned, just as the seen itself can never be unseen—a realization at once immensely demanding in its immutability and endlessly liberating in the possibilities it invites.”– Maria Popova

“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

“Absolutely unmixed attention is prayer.” –Simone Weil

“Only those items I notice shape my mind.” — William James

“The  thing you are doing now affects the thing you do next.” — Alexandra Horowitz

 

“For the mind disturbed, the still beauty of dawn is nature’s greatest balm.” — Edwin Way Teale

*****

It’s an imperfect world.

Life can be complicated.

But often, when I hike the prairie, I feel the magic happening. A sense of wonder. The world feels like a beautiful place again. A place where hope is—perhaps—not out of the question. A place where life is always in process.

Worth paying attention to.

***

Mary Oliver (1939-2019) was, as the poet Maxine Kumin wrote, “an indefatigable guide to the natural world.” Among her numerous awards were the Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award.  Thanks to my wonderful husband Jeff, I was fortunate to hear her read and speak at Sanibel Island, Florida, for the Rachel Carson Lecture in 2014. Oliver died early this year at the age of 83.

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All photos copyright Cindy Crosby, taken at the Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL unless noted otherwise: (Top to bottom)  fog over Willoway Brook; spiderwebs on asters (Symphyotrichum spp.), West Side prairie planting, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; tall coreopsis (Coreopsis tripteris) with spiderwebs, West Side prairie planting, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL;  Indian grass (Sorghastrum nutans); tall coreopsis (Coreopsis tripteris) with spiderwebs, West Side prairie planting, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii) with spiderwebs; Willoway Brook in the fog; bottlebrush grass (Elymus hystrix), Schulenberg Prairie Savanna, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii); big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii); New England asters (Symphyotrichum novae-angliae); switchgrass (Panicum virgatum); unknown spider’s web; braided ladies tresses (Spiranthes cerneua); unknown spider building its web over Willoway Brook; cup plant (Silphium perfoliatum);  big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii); spiderwebs on tall coreopsis (Coreopsis tripteris); Hidden Lake Forest Preserve as fog is lifting, Forest Preserve District of DuPage County; Downer’s Grove, IL; unknown spider’s web; big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii); Schulenberg Prairie covered with dew; dawn over West Side prairie planting, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; broken spiderweb; spiderwebs on bur marigolds (Biden spp.), West Side prairie planting, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; unknown spider’s webs.

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Cindy’s forthcoming book is Chasing Dragonflies: A Natural, Cultural, and Personal History with Northwestern University Press (Summer, 2020), illustrated by Peggy Macnamara, artist-in-residence at The Field Museum in Chicago.

Join Cindy for “Nature Writing”, a blended online and in-person class, beginning online Wednesday, October 15! Details here.

Visit www.cindycrosby.com for more information on Cindy’s upcoming speaking and classes.

The January Prairie Blues

“The blues tells a story. Every line of the blues has a meaning.”

— John Lee Hooker

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“It is the life of the crystal, the architect of the flake, the fire of the frost, the soul of the sunbeam. This crisp winter air is full of it. “
–John Burroughs

***

It’s about that time of a new year when social media and newspapers take up stories about the blues. No, not the music. Rather, seasonal affective disorder; the general malaise of cold, gray days that dampens mood and motivation.

Got the blues? Forget that trip to Florida to soak up sunshine.

Instead, consider the prairie.

In January it offers its own particular brand of blues; a little antidote to blues of a more melancholy kind.

Tune up with these “blues” for a moment or two; see if they chase the other blues away.  Follow me to the tallgrass.

See how the mice stitch their tracks across the blue tint of the snow?

Consider the pale blue glints of ice crystals that briefly frost the grasses; vanishing in the hot breath of the morning sun.

Marvel at the blue shadows in the snow, which form a background for the legato ripple of big bluestem leaves.

Look up. Blue-gray clouds patch the prairie sky, filter sunlight. Trees and grasses change focus as blue sky appears, then disappears: Fade, then sharp. Fade, then sharp.

A turkey flashes its iridescent feathers, shot through with silky blues. If you’ve got it, flaunt it.

Notice a  jet contrail or two faintly striped in misty white overhead. Moments ago, there were people suspended in space here, headed for who knows where—and who knows why. Their story is traced across the wide blue sky. It only calls for  your imagination to spin it.

There is even a home for the littlest “blues” –those feathered harbingers of happiness.

 

The tallgrass rolls out the carpet, all blue and white sparkles.

 

Embossed with blue shadows that pool in tracks across the snow; a promise of adventure and new beginnings…

…and, a reminder that the “blues” can be beautiful.  Who knows? You  may even come to love them.

The prairie blues, anyhow.  The best kind.

***

John Lee Hooker (1912-2001), whose quote opens this post, was a Grammy-award winning blues musician from Mississippi. The youngest of eleven children, he ran away from home at age 14 and eventually made his way to Detroit, where he found success as a guitarist, vocalist, and lyricist (although he was unable to read). He was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (1991) and received a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award (2000). Listen to clips of his music on YouTube, including this rendition of “Blue Monday”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WNl2wXE90vk&index=318&list=PLu_npSo2nvWSIjcaewEUE9O-gk3W1xnfS

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John Burroughs (1837-1921), whose quote from his book, “Winter Sunshine,” also opens this post, is honored as the father of the modern nature essay. The seventh of 10 children, he grew up in the Catskill Mountains of New York where he learned to love the outdoors. Burroughs later taught school in Buffalo Grove, Illinois, until he returned east to marry and work in banking. He continued writing, and eventually authored more than 30 books. He was a contemporary of the poet Walt Whitman, and kept company with John Muir and Teddy Roosevelt as well as other notables of that time period. Since 1926, the John Burroughs Association, founded in his honor, has awarded the John Burroughs Medal to the author of a book of natural history almost every year. Some of my favorite award winners include: Gathering Moss (Robin Wall Kimmerer, 2005); The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating (Elizabeth Tova Bailey, 2011);  Wind (Jan DeBlieu, 1999); The Control of Nature (John McPhee, 1990); and the classic, A Sand County Almanac (Aldo Leopold, 1977).

For a complete list of winners, see: research.amnh.org/burroughs/medal_award_list.html

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All photos copyright Cindy Crosby (top to bottom): on the way to Nachusa Grasslands, The Nature Conservancy, Franklin Grove, IL; beach umbrellas on Sanibel Island, FL; blue sky with big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii), Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downers Grove, IL;  ice crystals, interpretive trail, Fermilab, Batavia, IL; big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; sky over the Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; wild turkey (Meleagris gallopavo), Curtis Prairie at The University of Wisconsin-Madison Arboretum, Madison, WI; interpretive trail, Fermilab, Batavia, IL: eastern bluebird (Sialia sialis) nesting box, Nachusa Grasslands, The Nature Conservancy, Franklin Grove, IL; sparkly snow with bee balm (Monarda fistulosa), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; people (Homo sapiens) tracks, Schulenberg Prairie savanna, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; heart-shaped deer (Odocoileus virginianus) track, Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.