A Wish for Prairie

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

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

Fire season.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The fall-planted garlic cloves have sent up shoots.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The time has passed so quickly.

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

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

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

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

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

St. James Farm, Warrenville, IL.

Bring on the fire.

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

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Join Cindy for a class or program this spring!

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

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

The Tallgrass Prairie: Grocery Store, Apothecary, and Love Charm Shop: April 4, 7-8:30 pm. Free and open to the public. Presented by the Winfield Area Gardeners. For more information and location, visit here.

A Brief History of Trees in America: April 5 (Closed event for the Illinois Garden Council). Chicago Western Suburbs.

Literary Gardens — In Person — April 11, 7-8:30 p.m., Glenview Garden Club and Glenview Public Library. Free and open to the public, but seating is limited. Register here.

Illinois’ Wild and Wonderful Early Bloomers — Monday, April 17, 5-6 p.m., Rock River Garden Club, Dixon, IL. (Closed event for members)

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

Spring Wildflower and EthnobotanyWalk—Thursday, April 20, 8:30-10:30 at The Morton Arboretum. Registration information here. (SOLD OUT, ask to be put on a waiting list)

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

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

Reading the Tallgrass Prairie

“It’s a story that continues to be written, on the page and in the earth.” — John T. Price

The polar vortex has clamped its icy claws on the Midwest.

Monarch Way Station, Cindy’s backyard prairie patch, Glen Ellyn, IL.

I find myself humming Christina Rossetti’s gorgeous Christmas poem/carol, “In the Bleak Midwinter.” Snow on snow, snow on snow.

Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

My hikes have gotten shorter and shorter this week. Even a trip to fill up the backyard birdfeeders…

Hairy Woodpecker (Dryobates villosus) and House Sparrow (Passer domesticus), Cindy’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

….is Brrrr!...enough to send me back inside to brew a mug of hot lapsang souchong tea, shrug on an afghan, and reach for a book about the gorgeous and—painfully cold this week—natural world.

Robin (Turdus migratorius) on Staghorn Sumac (Rhus hirta), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

It’s prime reading weather. Time to investigate some prairie literature.

Let’s pull a few books off the shelf and spend some of this week “hiking” through the pages, immersed in prairie.

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Do you love a good story? A great place to begin a prairie literary exploration is with John Price’s edited volume, The Tallgrass Prairie Reader.

It’s an intentionally accessible nonfiction anthology with, as Price says in his introduction, “a variety of forms, voices, and approaches—including adventure narratives, spiritual reflections, literary ethnobotany, animal portraits, ‘personal’ natural history, childhood memoir, travel writing, humor, and reportage.” These are stories, rather than how-to restoration essays. Price groups the readings in three sections—19th, 20th, and 21st Centuries. You can skip around and dip into different readings, or, as he suggests, start at the earliest reading (Black Dog’s “Sun and Moon” creation story) and read it straight through to get a sense of how people at different points in history experienced the tallgrass prairie. Absorbing reading.

If you’re looking for more of a comprehensive natural history (from glaciers to present), one of the classic narratives of the tallgrass prairie is John Madson’s Where the Sky Began.

Madson’s dry wit, his encyclopedic facts narrated in lovely prose, and his passion for prairie make the 340 pages of this book fly by. Where the Sky Began was published in 1982; Madson passed away in 1995. When my new prairie volunteers ask me what book to read to understand what a prairie is and how it came to be, Madson’s book is the first one I recommend. A classic.

Memoir and prairie make good companions, and one of my favorites remains Nature’s Second Chance by Steven Apfelbaum.

After moving to Juda, Wisconsin, where he purchased an old 2.7 acre agricultural homestead, Apfelbaum began restoring it to health. Apfelbaum is founder and chairman at Applied Ecological Services, and has an expert knowledge of what it takes to create tallgrass prairie where it has been obliterated. His story tells how he gained an education in what it means to do so in a community where ecological restoration isn’t well understood. Chapter 10 is my favorite: “Getting to Know the Neighbors.” It will make you smile! This book is a great companion for frigid February evenings when you want a non-fiction prairie book that’s personal, and reads with the flowing narrative of a good novel.

For the same reasons, I love Paul Gruchow’s Journal of a Prairie Year ….

…and Gruchow’s Grass Roots: The Universe of Home.

Both books are collections of thoughtful essays on prairie, rural living, and the natural world. Grass Roots won the 1996 Minnesota Book Award, and contains an essay, “What the Prairie Teaches Us,” that I use in my tallgrass prairie ecology classes. Journal of a Prairie Year is arranged seasonally, and as Milkweed Editions (Gruchow’s publisher) notes, it is “both equal parts phenology and philosophy.” I read portions of Gruchow’s books all year round to remind myself to pay attention to what’s unfolding all around me.

Most prairie wildflowers and grasses are battered or buried under a foot of snow this week. Some are almost unrecognizable at this time of year. I’ve found that a great way to deepen my relationship with plants is to browse some of my ethnobotany books—discovering how people have used these native plants throughout history. Learning the plants’ stories, and how their stories are part of the human story, is an engaging way to pass the winter hours indoors.

Wildflowers of the Tallgrass Prairie: The Upper Midwest by Sylvan Runkel and Dean Roosa is now in its second edition with a new cover and much better photographs than my first edition shown above. The authors include fun snippets of information about the scientific names of more than 100 plants, and stories of how Native Americans and newcomers to the Midwest used native prairie plants medicinally, as groceries, and even for veterinary purposes. It’s easy to pick the book up for a few minutes and renew my acquaintance with a prairie grass or wildflower’s stories—then put it down. This suits my short attention span this month (which I blame on the pandemic). Read about a plant or two each day, and by the time warm weather and prescribed fire have readied the prairie for another growing year, you’ll be all set to greet the first spring wildflowers.

Bumblebee (Bombus sp.) on Wood Betony (Pedicularis canadensis), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.

Kelly Kindscher’s two seminal works on Kansas prairie plants, Edible Wild Plants of the Prairie and Medicinal Wild Plants of the Prairie include many stories of grasses and wildflowers native to my area of Illinois as well as further west. Drawings like these below are included, rather than photographs.

Illustration from Kelly Kindscher’s Edible Wild Plants of the Tallgrass Prairie.

Kindscher’s writing is lucid and enjoyable, and a deep dive into a plants ethnobotanical story. And, if these three books on prairie plants whet your appetite for more, immerse yourself in the doorstopper encyclopedic Native American Ethnobotany by Daniel Moerman (shown above with the other three books), a fairly exhaustive compilation of native plant use by specific Native American tribes in North America. It’s an amazing reference book no serious prairie enthusiast should be without.

Now that you know more about the prairie plants’ stories, wouldn’t it be nice to go see a few? Winter is a good time for planning visits to all the prairies I hoped to visit during warmer weather—but didn’t get around to. These three books below stimulate a lot of dreaming about road trips. The Prairie Directory of North America by Charlotte Adelman and Bernard Schwartz is an out-of-print oldie, but goodie. My first edition, published in 2001, has valuable lists of small, off the beaten track types of prairies in the United States and Canada. See if you can find a used copy of either the first or second edition. The directory has been the springboard for many of my prairie hikes.

Exploring Nature in Illinois by Susan Post and Michael Jeffords, while not focused solely on prairies, has some excellent destinations including Goose Lake Prairie State Park, Nachusa Grasslands, Kankakee Sands, and more. Hiking Illinois by Susan Post includes great prairie trips such as Midewin National Tallgrass Prairie, McHenry County Conservation District’s 26-mile “The Prairie Trail,” and Winnebago County’s sand prairies.

So many books! So little time. As a former independent bookseller, I’d love to pull each of my prairie books off the shelf and tell you why it’s earned a place there.

Then, you could share your favorites with me (and please do so below in the comments). There are more books than I can name, or show in the photo above, or describe here. Books on prairie restoration, plant ID, bison, birds, blooms; coffee-table photography tomes and books of prairie spiritual reflections. And I have many more prairie books on my wish list. You, too?

Of course, reading about the prairie is no substitute for the prairie itself.

Switchgrass (Panicum virgatum), Blackwell Forest Preserve, Warrenville, IL.

But when the wind chill drops to minus 20 degrees, and winter storms close many of the roads to the tallgrass preserves, “hiking” through the pages of these prairie books is the next best thing to being there.

Happy reading!

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John T. Price (1966-) earned his M.F.A. in Nonfiction Writing and Ph.D. in English from University of Iowa. He is the author of Daddy Long Legs: The Natural Education of a Father (2013) and Man Killed by Pheasant and Other Kinships (2008) and Not Just Any Land: A Personal and Literary Journey into the American Grasslands (2004). Price is Professor of English at the University of Nebraska.

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Join Cindy in 2021 for an online class! See http://www.cindycrosby.com for a complete list of virtual offerings. Need a speaker? Email me through my website. All classes and programs with Cindy this winter and spring are offered online only. Join me from your computer anywhere in the world.

February 24, 7-8:30 p.m. CST: The Prairie in Art and Literature– Online. The tallgrass prairie is usually thought of for its diverse community of plants, animals, and insects. Yet, it is also an inspiration for a creative community! In this interactive online talk, natural history author and prairie steward Cindy Crosby will explore historical and contemporary writers and artists, musicians, and other creatives working in the prairie genre: from Neil Young to Willa Cather to graphic comic artists, quilters, and jewelers expressing the prairie through their work. See the prairie in a new light! Come away inspired to appreciate and express your love of the tallgrass as you enjoy learning about this prairie “community.” Offered by The Morton Arboretum: Register here.

Readers, I hope you’ll “hunker down” this winter with my book, The Tallgrass Prairie: An Introduction and my book with awesome co-author Thomas Dean, Tallgrass Conversations: In Search of the Prairie Spirit during this cold spell! Don’t forget your independent bookstores when you order Thanks for reading about and supporting prairie.

Ten Reasons to Hike the Prairie in January

Your car won’t start. Going outside means donning a scarf, gloves, hat, coat, and at least three layers underneath. The driveway is a sheet of ice. You’re out of sidewalk salt.

Welcome to January, a month a lot of suburban Chicago folks love to hate. It’s tempting to skip our trips to the tallgrass prairie. Too cold. Too slick. Short days. No flowers.

But missing prairie encounters after the turn of the year means losing out on some magical moments.  Consider these ten reasons to hike the prairie in January.

#10. Ice, ice, baby. The designs change from minute to minute.

 

#9. Snow becomes a journal for prairie stories you missed. Invisible critters become visible.

 

#8. Structure.

 

#7. Unbelievable skies.

 

#6. Snow pooled in the grasses gives the prairie a new look.

 

#5. Noticeable transitions.

 

#4. The color blue.

 

#3. Unexpected contrasts.

 

#2. Intriguing seedheads

 

#1. Slow hikes.

Yes, it’s treacherous underfoot. But walking carefully, picking our way through ice and snow, offers opportunities to slow down and to pay attention.

Thanks, January.

All photos copyright Cindy Crosby. (Top to bottom) Snow and ice rim Willoway Brook, which runs through the Schulenberg Prairie at The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; squirrel tracks, SP; tall thistle (Cirsium altissimum), SP;  prairie grasses, lake, and sunrise at Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Downer’s Grove, IL; grasses, SP;  Schulenberg Prairie savanna; Clear Creek winding through Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL;  robin on smooth sumac (Rhus glabra), SP; round-headed bush clover (Lespedeza capitata), SP; hiking the Schulenberg Prairie in the snow.

(*SP is an abbreviation for the Schulenberg Prairie)