Tag Archives: purple meadow rue

Little Seedlings on the Tallgrass Prairie

Posted on April 16, 2024 | 1 comment

“Every moment is a fresh beginning.” — T.S. Eliot

*****

What a difference warmth and rain make.

***Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.***

Walk the tallgrass prairie in summer-like temperatures one evening after April showers. It’s a lesson in green. How many hues, shades, and tints can there be?

*Mostly northern bedstraw (*Gallium borealis), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

So many greens. Light green. Lime green. Emerald.

*Cut-leaf coneflower (*Rudbeckia laciniata), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Dark green. Mint. Neon green.

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

And of course, grass green.

Grass. So much grass.

It ripples in the stiff wind; caresses my ankles as I hike. I try to identify the grass seedlings but give up. So many grasses. So many greens.

The wildflowers are often easier to identify. Nothing else looks like a mayapple.

*Mayapple (*Podophyllum peltatum), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Even so young, the prairie wildflowers have distinct shapes, colors, and—dare I say it?—personalities?

*Queen of the prairie (*Filipendula rubra), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Queen of the prairie is certainly flamboyant. And purple meadow rue’s soft muted green, veined with amethyst, seems almost like she’s dressing up to go out somewhere.

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

Look at those fuzzy little seedling spears of prairie dock! You just have to reach down and touch them.

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

Some of the earliest wildflowers are in full bloom. A few seem downright bizarre. Consider common valerian, which is anything but “common.”

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

Or prairie smoke, which will put out long wispy pink plumes after the flowers are fertilized. It won’t be long now.

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

What about the golden Alexanders with their humble umbel flowers?

*Golden Alexanders (*Zizia aurea) PrairieWalk Pond and Dragonfly Landing, Lisle, IL.

And speaking of humble, the violets are coming on strong. In the language of flowers, so beloved by Victorians, the violet means “modesty.”

*Possibly a variation of the common violet (*Viola sororia), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

In the shaded edge areas of the prairie savanna, Virginia bluebells are in full swing. Look at that color!

*Virginia bluebells (*Mertensia virginica), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

A blast of warm temperatures a month ago boosted some of the woodland wildflowers that skim the edges of the prairie proper. Now, they are finishing their flowering season. Bloodroot can be found in bloom and in seed this week. Look now before the last flowers are gone.

*Bloodroot* (Sanguinara canadensis), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Make no bones about it…

*Mostly bastard toadflax* (Comandra umbellata), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

…it’s an exciting time on the tallgrass prairie. Why not go see?

***Sunset, Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.***

You won’t want to miss a moment of April.

********

The opening quote is from the poet and playwright T.S. Eliot (1888-1965). Among his great works are The Wasteland and The Four Quartets. You can hear him read some of his work here.

******

A Note from Cindy: I recently finished teaching “Prairie Gardens for the Home Landscape,” and one of the top questions I fielded was “How do I identify emerging prairie seedlings so I don’t weed them?” Here are four great resources to check out if you want to learn the seedling stage of many prairie plants.

Central Region Seedling ID Guide for Native Prairie Plants. (Various contributors, NRCS USDA) Spiral bound card set with color photography and glossy stock paper. Each card shows several photos of the seedling stage, mature leaf, and bloom. The information includes a description of the plant and distinguishing characteristics, as well as difficulty and bloom time from seed. You can download it for free here, or buy it already bound on sturdy stock paper for about $25 online.

Prairie Seedling and Seeding Evaluation Guide (Various contributors, Bonestroo) . Spiral bound, small book format with more than 50 tallgrass prairie wildflowers and grasses, and 25 common weeds. It also includes some basic information for evaluating your prairie planting. You can buy it from various sources online for about $13, or download the PDF for free here.

The Tallgrass Prairie Center Guide to Seed and Seedling Identification in the Upper Midwest. (Dave Williams, University of Iowa Press). Very specific seed and seedling ID notes, with a key system for 72 species including both forbs and grasses. Order it from your favorite indie bookseller for around $14 or from the publisher here..

The Gardener’s Guide to Prairie Plants (Neil Diboll & Hilary Cox, University of Chicago Press). This invaluable book, hot off the press, is jam-packed with great information on choosing, growing, and getting to know different prairie plants in the home garden. Most of the 145 plant photo pages include the seedlings (first year), emerging mature plants, entire plant, flower, early seed head, and mature seed. There are countless pages of information for the prairie gardener on everything from deer resistant plants to using prescribed fire. At $35, it’s a bargain, and I love the “lay flat” binding. Order it from your favorite independent bookseller or here.

******

Join Cindy for a class or program this spring!

Thursday, April 18, 9-11 a.m.—“Spring Wildflower and Ethnobotany Walk,” The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL. To register, click here. (Weather dependent)

Friday, April 19, 8-9 p.m.–“Dragonflies and Damselflies: The Garden’s Frequent Fliers,” presented by the Midwest Pond and Koi Society.” White Fence Farm, Romeoville, IL. Optional dinner before the program; program is free and open to the public, but please visit here for more information.

Wednesday, April 24, 10:15 a.m.-11:30 a.m. —“Illinois’ Wild and Wonderful Early Bloomers,” presented by the Naperville Garden Club. Naperville Municipal Center, Naperville, IL. For more information about access to this event for non-members, visit the club’s website here.

Saturday, April 27, 9-11 a.m.—“Spring Wildflower and Ethnobotany Walk,” The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL. To register, click here. (Limited tickets left). (Weather dependent)

Thursday, May 2, 5:30-7:30 p.m.–“Spring Wildflower and Ethnobotany Walk,” The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL (prairie and woodland). Register here. (Weather dependent)

More programs and events at cindycrosby.com.

1 Comment

Posted in native wildflowers, Uncategorized

Tagged April, bastard toadflax, bloodroot, common valerian, dragonflies and damselflies, ethnobotany, golden alexanders, green, IL, lisle, may-apple, Midwest Pond and Koi Society, prairie, prairie classes, prairie seedling ID books, prairie seedlings, prairie smoke, purple meadow rue, queen of the prairie, rain, schulenberg prairie, seedling ID books, spring, T.S.Eliot, tallgrass prairie, The Gardener's Guide to Prairie Plants, The Morton Arboretum, violets, Virginia bluebells, wildflower programs

Loving the Land

Posted on December 12, 2023 | 20 comments

“…The oldest task in human history: to live on a piece of land without spoiling it.” — Aldo Leopold

*****

December. I glanced out of the kitchen window while brewing a cup of coffee early Monday morning. Lots of activity at the bird feeders. House sparrows. A downy woodpecker. Several goldfinches. And…could it be?

*American goldfinch (top) (*Spinus tristus) *and the long-awaited pine siskin (bottom) (*Spinus pinus), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Yes! At long last. A lone pine siskin. Those of you who read these posts every week know I’ve been longing to see them, but have struck out at every opportunity. Until this week, they’ve eluded me. Evidently, good things come to those who wait. Or at least, pine siskins do.

As I drank my coffee, feeling happy about the pine siskin, I found myself thinking about the backyard and how it has changed over the years. The birds are a big change. They come for the bird feeders, of course—so many birdfeeders—but also for the native plants, shrubs, and trees. The shelter they offer, and their seeds, fruits, and (in the warmer months) flowers, are all a part of the attraction.

*American goldfinch (*Spinus tristus) on Purple Giant Hyssop (Agastache scrophulariifolia), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL. (August 2023).

When we purchased this suburban house 25 years ago, it was mostly lawn, some overgrown arborvitaes, and the infamous Japanese barberry and burning bush with a few other shrubs.

***Crosby’s backyard (pre-purchase), Glen Ellyn, IL (1998).***

At that time, we had no idea how much it would change over the 25 years we’ve lived here.

***Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL (2020).***

And today, I’m thinking about how far we still have to go. Always a new project. Always some failures of shrubs, trees, and plants that didn’t work out. Assessing, re-assessing, plotting and planning for 2024.

*Wild columbine (*Aquilegia canadensis), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

What does it mean to care for a piece of land? As the risk of sounding cliché, I think it’s a journey, rather than a destination. Every year the front and backyards surprise me with their flourishings and failures. The prairie plantings, vegetable gardens, native shrubs, traditional garden flowers, and a small pond Even in the winter, I’m aware of incremental changes that have changed our small piece of land.

***Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL (2022).***

As a prairie steward, I help care for a 100-acre planted prairie, weeding, planting and collecting seeds. I chase dragonflies across this prairie and another 4,000-acre tallgrass preserve, Nachusa Grasslands, as a steward of these enchanting insects.

*Calico pennant (*Celithemis elisa), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

Each of these pieces of land has been spoiled in some way. Each, however, bears the story of people trying to make it the best piece of land it can be through hard work and restoration.

In the opening quote of this week’s post, Aldo Leopold tells us that “to live on a piece of land without spoiling it” is the oldest task in history. After residing in the Chicago region for a quarter of a century—the longest I have ever lived in one place—I no longer see some of the ugliness when I drive the interstates and highways. My mind skips over the power plants that give us light and heat, or the cell towers that bring me the sound of my grandchildren’s voices from thousands of miles away. I avert my eyes from the landfills full of my “unnecessary plastic items” (to quote Nanci Griffith in “Love at the Five and Dime.”). I’m a part of this land spoiling by the ways I consume.

Sure, I virtuously rinse out my cans and recycle them and the cardboard boxes from my online orders. I pile the potato peelings and other vegetative detritus from our home cooking into our two compost bins. We supplement our fast food and fancy coffee with vegetables and fruits grown in the raised beds in our backyard. We plant milkweed, and the monarchs come. I feel a sense of accomplishment! For a moment.

*Monarch caterpillar (*Danaus plexippus) on butterfly milkweed (Asclepias tuberosa), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL. (2020).

But is it enough? I look around, at the end of 2023, and realize how much more there is that I could be doing. How can I complain about the fields full of bland, character-less warehouses that have sprung up all around Chicago’s western suburbs and then, place my online orders so I save time? If I want to have small, independent stores in my neighborhood, I may need to make life less convenient for myself. If I snarl and complain about the terrible traffic, perhaps I need to find ways to drive a little less often, or at least, consolidate some of my errands. During the holidays, my consumption habits are all too obvious.

When it all feels overwhelming, I take comfort that I am making incremental progress. A little less meat in our meals. A gift bag that can be reused, instead of wrapping paper. One plant at a time, displacing my lawn.

*Purple meadow rue (*Thilictrum dasycarpum), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL. (2021)

Every choice has an impact on my small yard, and by extension, my community. When I sit on my back porch, the birds and butterflies and dragonflies keep me company. When I go for a hike on the tallgrass prairie of Illinois, or walk alongside a historic river, I notice how my head clears. I feel better, physically and mentally. I am reminded why these places matter.

***Fox River Trail, North Aurora, IL.***

The serendipities of a flotilla of Canada geese (yes, even geese!)…

*Canada geese (*Branta canadensis), Fox River, North Aurora, IL.

…or an oriole’s nest, now abandoned for the winter…

*Oriole’s nest (*Icterus spp.), Fox River Trail, North Aurora, IL.

…or the beauty of a sycamore tree’s seeds. I love how this seed ball–sometimes nicknamed a “button ball”, hangs over the Fox River, an easy way for this lightweight vessel to ensure seed dispersal by dropping and floating to a new location.

*American sycamore (*Platanus occidentalis) seed ball, Fox River Valley Trail. North Aurora, IL.

The sycamore tree’s bark alone is so beautiful.

*American sycamore (*Platanus occidentalis), Fox River Trail, North Aurora, IL.

These are simple pleasures that can all-too-easily go away if we stop paying attention to them. If we don’t care for them.

When I spend an afternoon pulling weeds out of my prairie plantings at home, I admit I sometimes wonder if it wouldn’t be easier to just plunk down a few bags of ornamental rocks, throw mulch alongside the house, and call it a yard. Then, I notice the diversity of the prairie seeds, the green leaves of golden alexanders, so alive even in the winter; the various curls and patterns in the rough blazing star.

*Rough blazing star (*Liatris aspera), Crosby’s front yard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

I remember the butterflies that stopped to nectar in the garden through the spring, summer, and fall.

*Marine blue (*Leptotes **marina) on rough blazing star (Liatris aspera), Crosby’s front yard prairie planting, Glen Ellyn, IL.**

I spread homemade raspberry jam on my toast to eat with my coffee, and I’m grateful for the small backyard raised garden bed that gave us the fruit.

*Joan everbearing raspberries (*Rubus idaeus ‘Joan J’), *Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.*

So much better than a lawn. I listen to the last waves of sandhill cranes moving over the house, headed south, and know that this is a sound I want to hear, year after after, until I’m no longer around to hear them.

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

I want to at least try, with my choices about how I live on the land, to give them, and all other creatures, a chance to live as they have lived for millions of years.

Conservationist Aldo Leopold wasn’t born knowing how to live on the land and not spoil it. His thinking developed over his life, as he worked, loved the land and its creatures, and learned more about the place he called home. I think all of us, in a time of disruptions, war, violence, and unrest, are looking at how we live — our apartments, condos, houses and communities—and trying to figure out how we can make our small piece of the earth a better place for the children who will follow us. When the big changes seem overwhelmingly out of reach, perhaps we have to make the small changes within our power.

*Hackberry tree (*Celtis occidentalis), Fox River Trail, North Aurora, IL.

Whenever I feel discouraged about the long way I have to go in making these changes, a walk outside—even around the neighborhood block—reminds me of why caring for these places matters.

It’s a lot to think about to end the year. A lot to plan for 2024.

*Butterfly milkweed (*Asclepis tuberosa), Crosby’s front yard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Sometimes it feels like I’m not making a difference. I try to let go of that thinking. To not give up, just because the problems are so crushing. Even when I don’t see much progress, I remind myself that the work we do changes us. I know my little pieces of land, both my home and where I volunteer—and the creatures that have come to inhabit it with me—have left imprints all over my soul.

*Ruby-throated hummingbird (*Archilochus colubris) on Purple Giant Hyssop (**Agastache scrophulariifolia****), Crosby’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL. (2022)**

You probably have a story about how you’ve been changed too, don’t you? It’s enough that we are changed. Enough to keep us plugging away, even when the results don’t always seem evident. Doing what we can in our little corners of the world.

Keep trying.

*******

Aldo Leopold (1887-1948) was a professor at University of Wisconsin, the author of A Sand County Almanac (more than two million copies sold), and an ecologist who shaped conservation ethics and care for our natural areas. Read more about him here.

******

Join Cindy for her last program of the year!

12/12– 7:15-8:30 p.m.: “Winter Prairie Wonders” hosted by the Buffalo Grove Garden Club. Free and open to the public! For more information, click here.

Coming in January 2024

1/10/24 –“Literary Gardens: Online” 1-2:30 p.m. with the Oak Park/River Forest Garden Club. (Closed Event for Members). For information on the organization, or to inquire about becoming a member, visit here.

1/11/24–“A Brief History of Trees in America” In Person 9:30-11 a.m. with the Hilltop Gardeners Garden Club, Oswego Public Library, Oswego. Free and Open to the Public! For more information, visit their Facebook page here.

1/17/24–“Winter Prairie Wonders: Online” 7-8:30 p.m. with the Bensenville Public Library. Free and Open to the Public! Registration link coming after the new year.

1/22/24–“Literary Gardens: Online” 7-8:30 p.m. with the Arlington Heights Public Library. Free and Open to the Public! Registration link coming after the new year.

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

20 Comments

Posted in aldo leopold, Uncategorized

Tagged A Sand County Almanac, aldo leopold, american goldfinch, Backyard National Park, bark, birds, blazing star, butterfly milkweed, calico pennant dragonfly, Canada geese, everbearing raspberry, fox river, Fox River Valley Trail, glen ellyn, goldfinch, hackberry, hiking, Illinois, Joan raspberry, liatris, marine blue butterfly, monarch butterfly caterpillar, oriole nest, pine siskin, planting prairie, prairie, purple giant hyssop, purple meadow rue, rough blazing star, ruby-throated hummingbird, sandhill crane, schulenberg prairie, sycamore, tallgrass, The Morton Arboretum, wild columbine

May on the Tallgrass Prairie

Posted on May 2, 2023 | 5 comments

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

*****

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

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

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

******

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

5 Comments

Posted in nature writing, Prairie, tallgrass prairie, Uncategorized

Tagged awe, bastard toadflax, blue-winged teal, bridge, celandine poppy, Classes, compass plant, cream wild indigo, dragonflies and damselflies, drizzle, ducks, Early wildflowers, eastern bluebird, field pussytoes, graupel, Henry IV, hiking, IL, lisle, may, may flowers, meadow rue, nature photography, nature writing, prairie dropseed, prairie smoke, prairie violet, prairie wildflowers, programs, purple meadow rue, rain, robin wall kimmerer, schulenberg prairie, shakespeare, shooting star, sleet, spring wildflowers, The Morton Arboretum, virginia bluebell, William Shakespeare, willoway brook, wonder, xerces society

May on the Tallgrass Prairie

Posted on May 3, 2022 | 8 comments

“Perhaps it is because we have been so long without flowers that the earliest seem to be among the most beautiful.” — Jack Sanders

******

Gray skies. Tornados. Rainbows. Raw temperatures. Rain.

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

What a week it’s been! Not optimal for being outside. Nevertheless, I went out for a “short” hike on the Schulenberg Prairie Monday between rain showers. Two hours later, I didn’t want to go home.

***Willoway Brook, Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.***

There is so much to see on the prairie in May.

Common valerian—one of my favorite prairie plants—is in full bloom.

*Common valerian (*Valeriana edulis var. ciliata), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Such a strange, alien-esque sort of wildflower! It is sometimes called “tobacco root” or “edible valerian,” and despite reports of its toxicity, Native Americans knew how to prepare it as a food source. Early European explorers noted it had a “most peculiar taste.” The closer you look…

…the more unusual this plant seems. Bees, moths, and flies are often found around the blooms.

A white leaf edge causes the plant appear to glow. Later, the stems will turn bright pink. Gerould Wilhelm in his doorstopper book with Laura Rericha, Flora of the Chicago Region , gives this uncommon plant a C-value of “10.” It’s a stunning wildflower, although not conventionally pretty. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

The prairie violets are in bud and in bloom, with leaves that vary from deeply lobed…

***Prairie violet (*Violet pedatifida)*, Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.***

… to fan-shaped.

Cream wild indigo, splattered with mud, spears its way toward the sky. Blooms are on their way.

*Cream wild indigo (*Baptisia bracteata), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Long-tongued bumblebees work the purple dead nettle for nectar. This non-native annual in the mint family is aggressive in garden beds and on the prairie’s edges, but we don’t have much of it in the prairie proper.

*Possibly the two-spotted* bumblebee (Bombus bimaculatus) *on purple dead nettle* (**Lamium purpurem***), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.*

Leaves, as well as flowers, offer studies in contrast and color this month. Wood betony is on the brink of blooming.

***Wood betony (*Pedicularis canadensis)*, Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.***

Queen of the prairie, with her distinctive leaves, is almost as pretty at this stage as it will be in bloom.

*Queen of the prairie (*Filipendula rubra), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Compass plants’ distinctive lacy leaves are May miniatures of their July selves.

***Compass plant (*Silphium laciniatum)*, Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.***

In the nearby savanna, rue anemone trembles in the breeze.

*Rue anemone (*Anemonella thalictroides), Schulenberg Prairie Savanna, Lisle, IL.

Although they won’t fully open in the drizzle, yellow trout lilies splash light and color on a dreary day.

*Yellow trout lilies (*Erythronium americanum), Schulenberg Prairie Savanna, Lisle, IL.

It’s a time of rapid change on the tallgrass prairie and savanna. Each day brings new blooms. Each week, the prairie grasses grow a little taller. It’s difficult to absorb it all.

*Purple meadow rue* (Thalictrum dasycarpum), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

But what a joy to try!

*Woodland phlox* (Phlox divaricata laphamii), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL.

Why not go see?

*****

The opening quote is from Jack Sanders’ (1944-) book, Hedgemaids and Fairy Candles: The Lives and Lore of North American Wildflowers. The book is jam-packed with fascinating lore about some of my favorite blooms. Thanks to Mary Vieregg for gifting me this book–it’s been a delight. A similar book from Sanders is The Secrets of Wildflowers. Happy reading!

****

Join Cindy for a Program or Class

May 3, 7-8:30 p.m.: Dragonflies and Damselflies: The Garden’s Frequent Fliers, at the Winfield Area Gardening Club (Open to the public!), Winfield, IL. For more information, click here.

May 5, evening: 60 Years on the Schulenberg Prairie, Morton Arboretum Natural Resource Volunteer Event (closed to the public).

May 18, 12:30-2 p.m.: 100 Years Around the Arboretum (With Rita Hassert), Morton Arboretum Volunteer Zoom Event (Closed to the public).

June 5, 2-3:30 pm.: Illinois’ Wild and Wonderful Early Bloomers, Downers Grove Public Library and Downers Grove Garden Club. Kick off National Garden Week with this in-person event! Open to the public. Click here for more information.

******

Time is running out for a precious Illinois prairie remnant. Save Bell Bowl Prairie! Find out what you can do to help at www.savebellbowlprairie.org

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Posted in Uncategorized

Tagged bumblebeee, common valerian, compass plant, cream wild indigo, dragonflies and damselflies, Jack Sanders, may, native plants, nature, nature photography, nature writing, nature writing by women, pollinator, prairie, prairie photography, prairie violet, prairie wildflowers, Prairie Writing, purple dead nettle, purple meadow rue, queen of the prairie, rain, rue anemone, Save Bell Bowl Prairie, schulenberg prairie, spring, storm, The Morton Arboretum, tornado, wild blue phlox, wildflowers, willoway brook, wood betony, yellow trout lily

The Many May Delights of Prairie and Woods

Posted on May 18, 2021 | 12 comments

“Let all thy joys be as the month of May”—Francis Quarles

*******

Is there a more beautiful time in the Midwest than mid-May?

It’s been a week for the birds. Migrating birds, that is. In the woods, the great crested flycatcher calls. Such a distinctive voice!

**Great crested flycatcher (Myiarchus crinitus****), Norris Woods Nature Preserve, St. Charles, IL.**

I’ve read that the great crested flycatcher weaves unusual items into its nest: snakeskin, cellophane, plastic wrappers. Wouldn’t I love to spot one of those nests! This is the first great crested flycatcher I’ve ever seen. How did I miss it all these years? Likely I was busy looking down, not up: at the wildflowers.

**Twinleaf (Jeffersonia diphyllagone****) with seed capsule, Norris Woods Nature Preserve, St. Charles, IL.**

Seeing the flycatcher is one of the wonderful benefits of hiking with knowledgeable birding friends. If I had been hiking alone, I would have been looking at wildflowers, and likely missed it.

**Probably white baneberry or doll’s eyes (Actaea pachypoda****), Norris Woods Nature Preserve, St. Charles, IL.**

In his poem The May Magnificant, Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote: “Question: What is Spring–Growth in everything–Flesh and fleece; fur and feather; Grass and green world altogether… .” As we hike through the green, green, green woods, we discover a single, random feather. Our birding friends tell us it may be a young owlet’s. I would love to know how it came to be here along the trail.

***Young owlet feather, Norris Woods, St. Charles, IL.***

High in a tree, an indigo bunting surprises us. I love Cornell Lab of Ornithology’s description of the bunting; “a scrap of sky with wings.”

*Indigo bunting (*Passerina cyanea), Norris Woods Nature Preseve, St. Charles, IL.

Most of the “blues” I see in the bird world belong to the blue jays that stop by my feeder. This past week, there’s been the color orange as well—the Baltimore orioles who love the grape jelly and orange halves we put out for them.

*Baltimore oriole (*Icterus galbula), Cindy’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.

This weekend, while I listened to the birds at the feeders, I dug newly-purchased prairie seedlings into my prairie patch. White wild indigo.

*White wild indigo (*Baptisia alba), Cindy’s backyard prairie patch, Glen Ellyn, IL.

Meadow rue.

Prairie coreopsis. Great angelica. Prairie smoke. Anise hyssop. So many plants! When I ordered earlier this season, where did I imagine I could put them all? At the end of the day—a lonnnnng planting day—every plant had a seat in the prairie. Now it’s up to them and the weather.

As I turned on the hose to wash the dirt from my hands, I heard the first American toad of the year in our little pond. I turned the water back off to listen. Have you ever heard the American toad? No? You can hear it here. At night, when we crack open our bedroom window for the breeze, the sound can be deafening. In the forest preserve wetlands, lakes, and ponds, the American toad trillllllllll is a warm weather soundtrack for our hikes.

**Hidden Lake Forest Preserve, Glen Ellyn, IL.**

Birds! Toads. Plants. Wildflowers. The writer Ellis Peters wrote, “Every spring is a perpetual astonishment.” It’s difficult to know where to look. So much is happening on the prairies and in the woodlands. How can I choose where to hike? And so much is happening, right under my nose, here in my yard!

Near my prairie patch, the pawpaw tree is in bloom. Such an unusual flower color! That brownish-maroon reminds me of wild ginger blooms. For fun, I try to match the flower color to a lipstick shade. The closest I find is “Cherry Cocoa” or maybe, “Love in Maroon.” What do you think?

**Pawpaw (Asimina triloba****) tree in bloom, Cindy’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL.**

Butterflies pass me as I examine the pawpaw flowers. Cabbage white butterflies showed up early this spring, stopping to lay a few eggs on my overwintered kale and kohlrabi. I don’t grudge them a few leaves. Especially since this year’s overwintered crop is a bonus. A gift to share.

***Overwintered kale (*Brassica oleracea, *Acephala group) and kohlrabi (*Brassica oleracea, *Gongylodes group) going to seed, Cindy’s garden, Glen Ellyn, IL.***

I saw my first tiger swallowtail last week, and a few friends have reported monarchs. Pearl crescent butterflies pass through the prairies and savannas, taking a moment to pause and let me admire their bright colors. They’re a common sight, and will continue to be throughout the summer. But no less delightful, for being so ubiquitous.

**Pearl crescent butterfly (Phyciodes tharos****), Norris Woods, St. Charles, IL.**

The pearl crescent butterflies enjoy a wide variety of flowers. There are plenty of blooms to choose from in the middle of May. Wild geraniums are still going strong on the prairies and in the woodlands. Is it my imagination, or are they lingering longer this year? Maybe it’s the cool weather?

**Wild geranium (Geranium maculatum), The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL. (2017)**

I’m grateful, whatever the reason.

**Wild Geranium (Geranium maculatum****), Norris Woods Nature Preserve, St. Charles, IL.**

Prairie, woodland, and savanna spring wildflowers are best seen up close.

**Examining the wild hyacinth (Camassia scilloides****), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.**

Then, when something unusual comes along, you’ll have a ringside seat.

**Nessus Sphinx Moth (Amphion floridensis****) on wild geranium (Geranium maculatum****), Norris Woods Nature Preserve, St. Charles, IL.**

And—you’ll thank your lucky stars—so grateful and glad that you went for a hike in the middle of May.

*****

The opening quote is by Francis Quarles (1592-1644), an English poet. One of his descendants was the poet Langston Hughes (1901-1967), a celebrated poet and author.

****

Join Cindy for a program or class!

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.

Thanks to Tricia Lowery and John Heneghan for the afternoon hike, the gift of the prairie plants, and help with spotting wonderful flying critters this week.

12 Comments

Posted in backyard prairies, may, prairie restoration, Uncategorized

Tagged american toad, Baltimore oriole, bird, birds, fisherman, forest preserve district of dupage county, Francis quarles, gardening, great crested flycatcher, hidden lake forest preserve, hiking, Illinois, indigo bunting, kale, kayak, lisle, may, migration, nature, nature photography, nature writing, nature writing by women, norris woods, online literary garden, online prairie classes, paw paw, pearl crescent butterfly, prairie, purple meadow rue, savanna, schulenberg prairie, sphinx moth, spring, st. charles, The Morton Arboretum, white wild indigo, wild geranium, wild hyacinth, woodland

Prairie Migration

Posted on September 8, 2020 | 2 comments

“Oh the days dwindle down, To a precious few . . .September….”

—Maxwell Anderson

*****

They swirl in my backyard, green helicopters against a blue sky. On the prairies, I count them. Twenty-five. Fifty.

Where are these dragonflies going?

South.

It’s migration season in the Chicago region.

Common green darners zip and dart overhead, as I try to estimate their numbers for my dragonfly data. Seventy-five. One hundred. One hundred and ten. I put my clipboard down and marvel. How was I alive in the world for so many years and never noticed this phenomenon?

My data sheet is pre-printed with the names of numerous species, but today the common green darners’ hash marks spill over into other columns. I finish estimating at 165. Then I turn my attention to the dragonflies and damselflies that won’t make the trip.

In Willoway Brook, a stream bluet, shows his age by his pruinosi ty:

A few tired-looking American rubyspot damselflies stake out the stream.

A single widow skimmer dragonfly flies across the tallgrass trail.

These dragonfly and damselfly species will remain on the prairie, resigned to end their lives here in the Chicago region. As the colder temperatures increase, their natural lifespans will come to an end. By the time frost ices the tallgrass, most will be gone.

There are other delights that prepare to take their place. The prairie, refreshed by much-needed downpours this week, is alight with the colors of autumn. The leaves of purple meadow rue are in transition.

September loves yellow. Illinois’ corn fields are quilted green and yellow and brown with corn in full tassel. Goldenrod shows off its different floral shapes—some tall and branching, other blooms flat or rounded. Soybean fields stretch to the horizon, pools of molten gold. On the prairie, sawtooth sunflowers are bright against a clear blue sky.

Along Willoway Brook, the sunflowers admire their reflection.

A blue heron watches the water, hoping for a fish or frog. Patience personified.

Singles and family groups have been hiking Illinois’ prairies in large numbers this week, lured out, perhaps, by the knowledge that the days of warmer weather are numbered. Meteorological autumn is here. Winter is coming. They leave evidence of their presence—sometimes a gum wrapper or wadded up Kleenex—other times a bit of encouragement.

At Nachusa Grasslands, the bison shrug on their winter coats, ready for cold weather. The spring calves darken to chocolate brown and put on weight. But a few late-born butterscotch bison babies stick close to each other and their mamas.

Near Nachusa, the beekeepers gather their honey and lay it out for sale on tables along the gravel roads. There’s something touching about the tin can honor system of payment; the “Need change? Take bills from here!” tin. It’s a little bit of optimism, a vote of trust in the inherent goodness of people.

I needed that this week. You, too?

It’s been bird migration time here in the Chicago region; more than 30 million birds were estimated to pass through Illinois in one 12 hour period last week. Jeff and I sit on the back porch and count the nighthawks high overhead; marvel at the hummingbirds that zoom in to fuel up at the feeder.

I’ve also been heartened by the number of migrating monarchs that cruise through the tallgrass on my walks through the prairies this week. Insect news has not been great, folks, so to see the skies full of orange and black wings headed south is a shot of joy.

But it’s the green darners who are the stars of the prairies this week. The green darners I’m hanging my hopes on. Today, hundreds. Tomorrow, they may vanish. Sure, there will be a straggler or two around, but the electricity of their activity will be a thing of remembrance. When we see them again, it won’t be these individuals that come back. Rather, their progeny, one darner at a time, struggling to return from thousands of miles. We’ll see the first one in the first warming days of March and April. What a day to look forward to!

When the green darner dragonflies arrived in March this year, I couldn’t have imagined what our lives would be like in the following months of 2020. Seeing them go now in September—almost seven months later—I wonder what life for us will be when they return next spring. This season of change makes me feel hopeful.

See you in March, little dragonflies. Safe travels.

*****

The opening quote is from the lyrics of September Song, written by Maxwell Anderson and composed by Kurt Weill. It’s been recorded by many artists, including Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, and Jeff Lynn of Electric Light Orchestra (with George Harrison). But my favorite continues to be the rendition by Willie Nelson from Stardust. Listen, and see if you agree.

All photos and video copyright Cindy Crosby (top to bottom): bridge over Willoway Brook, Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; video of green darner migration, Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL (2013); common green darner dragonfly male (Ajax junius), Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downer’s Grove, IL; stream bluet male (Enallagma exsulans), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; American rubyspot damselfly (Hetaerina americana), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; widow skimmer dragonfly (Libellula luctuosa), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL (2018); purple meadow rue (Thalictrum dasycarpum), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; sawtooth sunflowers (Helianthus grosseserratus), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; woodland sunflower (Helianthus sp.), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; great blue heron (Ardea herodias), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; found nature art, Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; twin baby bison calves (Bison bison), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL; honey stand, next to Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL; migrating monarch butterfly (Danaus plexippus) on pasture thistle (Cirsium discolor), Franklin Creek Natural Area, Franklin Grove, IL; common green darner dragonfly, male (Ajax junius), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

****

SPECIAL EVENT! DuPage County friends —DuPage Monarch is sponsoring a “Parks for Pollinators” bioblitz from this Saturday, 9/12 through 9/20. Click here to find out how you can contribute your observations and make a difference in the natural world! Simply take photos of pollinators and upload them to iNaturalist, a free App for your phone. Have fun and help this great effort.

Nomia Meadows Farm, just down the road from Nachusa Grasslands in Franklin Grove, IL, has great honey for sale. Contact them here.

Join Cindy for an Online Class or Talk this Autumn! See http://www.cindycrosby.com for details.

“A Tallgrass Conversation”—Conservation Cocktails online with Lake Forest Openlands. Friday, September 11, 6-7:30pm. To register—and find out how to join the good work of this organization–click here.

“Nature Writing Online” Begins Monday, October 5, through The Morton Arboretum. Want to commit to improving and fine-tuning your writing for six weeks? This is a great opportunity to jump start your blog, your book, or your journal writing while working online from home, supplemented with three evenings of live evening Zoom classes on alternate weeks. Class size is limited; 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, direct from Northwestern University Press (use coupon code NUP2020 for 25% off), or other book venues. 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.

2 Comments

Posted in Dragonflies, Prairie, September, Uncategorized

Tagged American rubyspot, baby bison, baby bison twins, beekeeping, belmont prairie nature preserve, bioblitz, bridge, Chasing Dragonflies, Chicago region, common green darner, damselfly, downer's grove, dragonfly, dragonfly migration, great blue heron, honey stand, Illinois, iNaturalist, lisle, Love, migrating monarch, monarch migration, Morton Arboretum, Nature Writing online, nomia meadows farm, Northwestern University Press, online classes, Parks for Pollinators bioblitz, pasture thistle, pollinators, prairie honey, purple meadow rue, sawtooth sunflowers, schulenberg prairie, September, September Song, Stardust, stream bluet, widow skimmer, Willie Nelson, willoway brook, woodland sunflower

May on the Prairie

Posted on May 12, 2020 | 9 comments

“In May one simply can’t help being thankful . . . that they are alive, if for nothing else.” — L.M. Montgomery

******

It’s been a wild ride this week, from weather so warm I itched to plant my tomatoes (but heroically resisted) to hail—or was it graupel?—and snow-ish flurries, then a freeze warning that sent me to the garden beds with armfuls of sheets. Chives pop up in every crack in the patio, ready to explode into bloom. We’re pulling the first green onions for omelets, and the promise of radishes and spinach are only days away.

A pair of male Baltimore orioles have whistled up spring in the backyard this the past week, but stayed invisible. This weekend, lured by the promise of half an orange and cups of grape jelly, they made an appearance and brightened up a rainy Mother’s Day.

In the backyard prairie patch, my queen of the prairie is up…

…its unusual leaves fanned fully open. Last year, it grew to almost five feet tall.

Later this summer, its plumes of cotton candy pink flowers will drift through the prairie.

Tallgrass summer wildflowers tend toward purples, yellows, and white. A little pink is a welcome change. I’m looking forward to it.

Less showy, perhaps, is my two-year-old prairie alum root which sends up bud spikes along the patio. Its flowers won’t be as spectacular as those of queen of the prairie, but its leaves are beautiful, aren’t they?

Sometimes, you’ll hear it called “coral bells,” for its resemblance to the familiar garden plant that’s in the same genus.The name “alum root” refers to its use as a substitute for alum in pickling. The hummingbirds nectar at the flowers—another great reason to grow it. I imagine alum root, mingling with the prairie phlox, shoots of lead plant, and sedges this month on the still-closed Schulenberg Prairie where I’d usually be spending my spring hours. I miss seeing it there, but having alum root at home helps alleviate my sadness.

And look! The first leaves are showing on New Jersey tea. I purchased this pricey shrub last season at a native plant sale, and there was the “will it make it? will it not?” anxiety as it went through the first winter.

Unlike garden shrubs such as forsythia which bloom on old wood, prairie shrubs, such as New Jersey tea and leadplant, flower on first year wood. It’s an adaptation strategy that allows it to survive prairie fires and still set seed. This summer, I’ll hope to see the first flowers. Like a foamy cappuccino, don’t you think?

Or maybe I just need more coffee.

Purple meadow rue’s layered leaves unfold toward the sun. They appreciate my wet backyard, and often tower up to six feet high in the prairie.

Its distinctive seeds in the fall are different than anything else in my prairie patch.

Later in the day, a white-crowned sparrow picked at the birdseed scattered across the patio. Its not as flashy as the orioles. But perhaps just as beautiful, in its own way.

*******

This past Friday, Jeff and I went for a hike at Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve to see hoary puccoon, a high-quality prairie wildflower. Hoary puccoon! Hoary puccoon. Everywhere on this remnant is hoary puccoon. What a treasure trove of orange flowers.

“Puccoon” is an oddball kind of word, and one which Native Americans assigned to plants that were useful for dyes. “Hoary” simply refers to the hairs that fur the plant. Sylvan Runkel and Dean Roosa tell us in Wildflowers of the Tallgrass Prairie: The Upper Midwest that Native American children blended the red dye from the roots with compass plant resin to create a red chewing gum. The hoary puccoon flower petals (probably dried) could also be used for a yellow-orange colored chewing gum.

At one time the seeds, Runkel and Roosa tell us, were made into beads by Native Americans for ceremonial use. Today, we value this plant for its beauty and its relative scarcity, rather than any practical use. The seeds of hoary puccoon are difficult to germinate, which makes this plant doubly more precious in the field and highly valued for its place in the prairie community. Flora of the Chicago Region gives it a coefficient of conservatism score of 8 out of 10.

The flowers make me think of my backyard Baltimore orioles.

As I stroll the Belmont Prairie, I wonder. What’s happening on the Schulenberg Prairie? Is the common valerian in bloom?

Are the shooting star flooding the prairie with pink?

There’s no way to know.

But I do know that had I been able to access the Schulenberg Prairie this week, I might not have spent so much time getting to know this Belmont Prairie remnant. And what a joy that has been. Seeing its spring treasures, such as the hoary puccoon and this violet wood sorrel, has been a consolation.

I stop for a moment at a drift of violet wood sorrel; then think about how its flowers and leaves fold together at night and in cloudy weather. Its tiny, shamrock leaves remind me of origami.

Just off the trail…

…the tiny prairie violets offer more than just pretty flower faces.

Here, at Belmont Prairie, there are endless possibilities for investigation and observation this spring. Plenty of prairie to satisfy my soul. Whenever I feel discouraged or stuck…

A walk here puts the world to rights for the moment.

Thank you, Belmont Prairie.

****

The opening quote by Lucy Maud Montgomery is from her book Anne of Avonlea (1909), from her Anne of Green Gables series. When she was less than two years old, she lost her mother to tuberculosis, and was mostly raised by her grandparents on Prince Edward Island in Canada. She was a lonely child, and surrounded herself with imaginary friends. It’s not a stretch to see how Anne Shirley, the orphaned protagonist of the series, came into being. Montgomery published 20 novels and numerous short stories and poems.

All photos and video from Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve unless marked otherwise (Schulenberg Prairie photos are from previous seasons), copyright Cindy Crosby (top to bottom): Baltimore orioles (Icterus galbula), author’s backyard prairie, Glen Ellyn; queen of the prairie (Filipendula rubra), author’s backyard prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL; queen of the prairie (Filipendula rubra), author’s backyard prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL; queen of the prairie (Filipendula rubra), author’s backyard prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL; prairie alum root (Heuchera richardsonii ), author’s backyard prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL; prairie alum root (Heuchera richardsonii ) with prairie phlox (Phlox pilosa), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; New Jersey tea (Ceanothus americanus), author’s backyard prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL; New Jersey tea (Ceanothus americanus), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; purple meadow rue (Thalictrum dasycarpum), author’s backyard prairie, Glen Ellyn, IL; purple meadow rue (Thalictrum dasycarpum), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; white-crowned sparrow (Zonotrichia leucophrys), author’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL; hoary puccoon (Lithospermum canescens), Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downer’s Grove, IL; hoary puccoon (Lithospermum canescens), Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downer’s Grove, IL; Baltimore oriole (Icterus galbula), author’s backyard, Glen Ellyn, IL; common valerian (Valeriana edulis), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; shooting star (Dodecatheon meadia); Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; crab spider on prairie violet (Viola pedatifida), Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downer’s Grove, IL; trail through the Belmont Prairie, Downer’s Grove, IL; violet wood sorrel (Oxalis violacea), kite in a tree, on the Belmont Prairie Nature Preserve, Downer’s Grove, IL in early May.

*******

Join Cindy for a class online!

“Tallgrass Prairie Ecology” class online in May through The Morton Arboretum is SOLD OUT. Sign up now to ensure a spot in our June class here.

Nature Journaling is online Monday, June 1 — 11am-12:30pm through The Morton Arboretum:
Explore how writing can lead you to gratitude and reflection and deepen connections to yourself and the natural world. In this workshop, you will discover the benefits of writing in a daily journal, get tips for developing the habit of writing, and try out simple prompts to get you on your way. (WELL095) — Register here.

Coming in June! Chasing Dragonflies: A Natural, Cultural, and Personal History. Pre-order now from your favorite indie bookstore, or online at bookshop.org and other book venues.

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.

9 Comments

Posted in backyard prairie, prairie remnant, Prairie Restoration, Uncategorized

Tagged Anne of Avonlea, Anne of Green Gables, backyard prairie, Baltimore oriole, belmont prairie nature preserve, common valerian, crab spider, downer's grove, hoary puccoon, Illinois, lisle, Lucy Maud Montgomery, New Jersey tea, prairie alum root, prairie phlox, prairie violet, purple meadow rue, queen of the prairie, schulenberg prairie, The Morton Arboretum, violet wood sorrel, white-crowned sparrow

Spring on the Prairie

Posted on April 21, 2020 | 10 comments

“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.

Tallgrass Conversations cover Cindy Pick9a

10 Comments

Posted in Cemetery Prairie, Prairie Restoration, tallgrass prairie, Uncategorized

Tagged backyard pond, bastard toadflax, bedstraw, bee fly, bloodroot, box elder, chicago, college of dupage, college of dupage natural areas', common blue violet, conservation, Covid-19, cream gentian, Earth Day Events, East Prairie COD, hiking, J.R.R. Tolkien, marsh marigold, mosses, native plants, nature, nature photography, online nature classes, online prairie classes, Pandemic, Peggy Notebaert Museum, pollinators, prairie dropseed, purple meadow rue, rattlesnake master, red-winged blackbird, remnant prairie, russell kirt prairie, shooting star, spring beauty, Tallgrass Prairie Ecology online, The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, The Morton Arboretum, The Nature of Conservation, willow

A Hike on the June Prairie

Posted on June 4, 2019 | 6 comments

“Good day sunshine.” — John Lennon & Paul McCartney

*****

A little rain. A bit of sunshine this week, too—at last. Let’s hike the June prairie together, and see what’s happening after the spring storms.

Tallgrass prairies in the Chicago region crackle with activity. Angelica opens its firework flowers in the soggy areas.

Spiderwort is everywhere, both in bud…

…and in bloom. Its short-lived flowers only last a day or two, and often close in the afternoon.

Clouds of prairie phlox float across the low grasses in varied hues, from pearl…

…to palest lavender, with purple eyes…

…to hot pink. So many variations! When the phlox mingles with the spiderwort, it makes me think of a Monet painting.

Not all the blooms are as jazzy as the prairie phlox. Intermixed with the phlox, prairie alumroot spikes open small green flowers with orange anthers. Inconspicuous, until you look closely. The phlox is fragrant, but the alumroot is scentless. Notice the silvery leadplant photobombing the image below, plus some sedges sprinkled around.

Close to the stream, I see meadow rue heading skyward. In a good wet year like this one, meadow rue will likely top out at six or seven feet tall. When meadow rue blooms, the flowers remind me of fringed Victorian lamps. Today, they are mostly in bud.

Cauliflower fists of wild quinine buds are about to pop.

As are those of the common milkweed. I turn the leaves over, but no monarch eggs. Yet.

As I admire the buds and blooms, I notice dragonflies perched to soak up the sun. Dragonflies have kept a low profile for the past two months; sulking about the windy, chilly, drizzly, and generally gloomy weather. I discover a twelve-spotted skimmer…

…and also, a common whitetail. Both species will be ubiquitous by late June, but these first appearances always delight me. Welcome back.

As I look into foliage along the trails for more dragonflies and damselflies, I see clumps of what appear to be bubbles. Inside of the froth is a spittlebug. I pull one sticky mass apart with my fingers and gently admire a tiny green nymph. Later, when I’m at home, I read that the nymph will feed on the plant and eventually become an adult that looks something like a leafhopper, to which they are related. Although they are considered a pest, we don’t worry much about them on the prairie. They do little damage.

In the cool breeze, I’m grateful for the sun. I snap off a red clover bloom and chew on some of the petals. Sweet. So sweet. Red clover isn’t a native prairie plant, but it’s pretty and generally not too invasive. We only pull it in our display areas at the front of the prairie.

The native yellow wood sorrel leaves are also irresistible, with their sour, tangy jolt to the tastebuds. Both the red clover and yellow wood sorrel are found in every Illinois county. Tough little flowers.

Brown-headed cowbirds often show up at my birdfeeders at home, as well as on my prairie hikes. They have several different trademark calls. This one sings a Clink-whistle! I admire it, glossy in the sunshine. Cowbirds are despised by many birders for their habit of laying their eggs in other bird species’ nests; letting someone else raise the kids. Ah, well.

The earliest spring prairie blooms are now in the business of making seeds. Jacob’s ladder, which pulled blue sheets of flowers across the prairie just weeks ago, now carries clusters of sprawling seedpods. Except for the plant’s ladder-like leaves, it’s unrecognizable.

I pull a pod apart and check the tiny seed, pinching it between my fingernail and thumb. Still green. When the seedpods turn brown, I’ll bag them and use them to propagate other parts of the prairie where they aren’t as common.

Wood betony is another wildflower that has undergone a complete makeover, spiraling from yellow blooms into into soldier-straight rows. I mentally mark its locations for our work group’s seed collection efforts in a few weeks.

A common sight on the Midwestern prairies at this time of year is the remains of dogbane pods (or Indian hemp as it is sometimes known) that escaped the prescribed burns. Seedless now, it looks graceful, scything the breeze. My prairie work group collected last year’s dogbane stalks to experiment with making fiber this season. Native American’s knew dogbane could be used for twine, fishing line, and even fiber to weave clothing. I enjoy the way the pods catch the wind.

Wild coffee (sometimes known as horse gentian or tinker’s weed), has made an eye-catching mound in the knee-high tallgrass. Look closely.

You’ll see the dark reddish brown flowers, nestled in the leaf axils. Later this summer, the flowers will turn into small orange fruits tucked into the leaves. The dried fruits were used as a coffee substitute by early settlers.

The highlight of my hike is finding one of my favorite prairie wildflowers beginning to go to seed: common valerian (Valeriana edulis ciliata). I love its explosions of seed-spirals, and the way its stalk is beginning to transform from white to pink. As it ages, the pink intensifies until it is almost neon bright on the prairie.

So much to see. So much to hear. So many things to enjoy with all the senses. It’s difficult to do desk work. What if I miss something?

The prairie conjures up new astonishments every day.

I can’t wait to see what the rest of the week brings.

*****

Paul McCartney and John Lennon penned the song, “Good Day Sunshine” for the Beatles’ 1966 album, Revolver. It’s a good cure for rainy day blues. Listen to it here and you’ll be humming it all day.

*****

All photos copyright Cindy Crosby and are from two different prairie hikes put together (top to bottom): butterweed (Packera glabella), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; great Angelica (Angelica atropurpurea), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; spiderwort (Tradescantia ohiensis), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; spiderwort (Tradescantia ohiensis), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; prairie phlox (Phlox pilosa), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; prairie phlox (Phlox pilosa), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; spiderwort (Tradescantia ohiensis) and prairie phlox (Phlox pilosa), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; prairie alumroot (Heuchera richardsonii affinis) with the phlox, Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; purple meadow rue (Thalictrum dasycarpum), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; wild quinine (Parthenium integrifolium), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca) Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; 12-spotted skimmer dragonfly (Libellula pulchella), Fermilab Natural Areas Interpretive Trail, Batavia, IL; common whitetail (Plathemis lydia) , Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; spittlebug (possibly Philaenus spumarius) , Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; red clover (Trifolium pratense) , Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; yellow wood sorrel (Oxalis stricta), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; brown-headed cowbird (Molothrus ater), Fermilab Natural Areas Interpretive Trail, Batavia, IL; Jacob’s ladder (Polemonium reptans) seedpods, Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; wood betony (Pedicularis canadensis), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; dogbane (Apocynum cannabinum), Fermilab Natural Areas Interpretive Trail, Batavia, IL; wild coffee or late horse gentian (Triosteum perfoliatum), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; wild coffee or late horse gentian (Triosteum perfoliatum) flowers, Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL; common valerian (Valeriana edulis ciliata), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL.

*****

Cindy’s Upcoming Classes and Events

Tonight! Introduction to the Tallgrass Prairie, Tuesday, June 4, 7-9 p.m., Lake to Prairie Wild Ones, Fremont Public Library, 1170 N Midlothian Rd, Mundelein, IL 60060. Free and open to the public.

Thursday, June 6–9 p.m. — A Tallgrass Conversation, talk and book signing. Bring a picnic dinner for the social at 6 p.m. Talk begins around 7:30 p.m. Pied Beauty Farm, Stoughton, Wisconsin. Details here.

Friday, June 14, or Friday, June 28, 8-11:30 a.m., Dragonfly and Damselfly ID, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL. Registration here (first session is sold out).

Thursday, June 20, 7-9 p.m. The Tallgrass Prairie: Grocery Store, Apothecary, and Love Charm Shop, Rock Valley Wild Ones, Rock Valley Community College, Rockford, IL. Details here. Free and open to the public.

See more at http://www.cindycrosby.com

6 Comments

Posted in prairie wildflowers, sunshine, tallgrass prairie, Uncategorized

Tagged 12-spotted skimmer dragonfly, balsam ragwort, batavia, brown-headed cowbird, Classes, common milkweed, common valerian, common whitetail dragonfly, dogbane, Dragonfly and Damselfly ID, Fermilab Natural Areas, great angelica, Illinois, interpretive trail, jacob's ladder, late horse gentian, lisle, Pied Beauty Farm, prairie alumroot, prairie phlox, purple meadow rue, red clover, Rock Valley Wild Ones, schulenberg prairie, spiderwort, spittlebug, tallgrass prairie, tallgrass prairie wildflowers, The Morton Arboretum, waxy meadow rue, wild coffee, wild quinine, wood betony, yellow wood sorrel

To Understand a Prairie

Posted on September 5, 2017 | 2 comments

“The prairie, in all its expressions, is a massive, subtle place, with a long history of contradiction and misunderstanding. But it is worth the effort at comprehension. It is, after all, at the center of our national identity.” — Wayne Fields

***

How do you begin to understand a prairie? Start by walking the tallgrass trails on a breezy day in September. See the boneset flowers sway and bend in the wind?

Count the number of bees you find nectaring in the flowers. Then consider—this is only one small stand of blooms! Imagine what remains unseen. Suddenly, your eyes open to the buzzing and crawling; sipping and chewing insects all around you. You begin to understand. The prairie world is not static. It is a living, moving, humming community.

From the blooms and bugs, you turn to the fall seed heads, in all their infinite variety. The spiky purple meadow rue.

Soft Indian grass seed plumes, a few yellow petals decorating them like confetti.

The parachute seeds of pale Indian plantain, ready for lift off.

You marvel at the variety. A prairie, you think, is about diversity. And yes, you’re getting closer to knowing.

How do you begin to understand a prairie? You notice how the plants change with the September slant of sun; cool nights, shorter days. See the butterfly weed in its fall colors, just before the seed pod bursts open. This milkweed’s work nurturing monarch butterflies is finished for this year. Now it must send out a new generation of plants to do the same next season.

Those September colors! Flowering spurge foliage glows pink under the grasses.

As you marvel at the pink, you catch your breath. Are those cream gentians you almost stepped on? Or wait—are they bottle gentians? The blooms seem to be both, yet neither. Perhaps this is the hybrid pale-blue gentian that you’ve heard about. You drop to your knees for a closer look.

And what is this plant, waving over your head, and flowering so late in the season?

You take photos, examine the leaves. It looks like one of the wild lettuces, but you can’t remember for sure. And it seems…different, somehow. So you take another photo; carefully imprint the details of the plant on your mind. Vow to look it up later.

Understanding a prairie means knowing that the more you discover, the less you’ll realize you know. And the more you know, the more you’ll forget. (Sigh.) Even when you do remember, the taxonomists may rename the plants you once knew by heart.

Perhaps this is what it means to understand a prairie. To look. To ask questions. To marvel. To imagine. To learn. To forget. To ask for help. To be humbled as you do, realizing there will always be more to comprehend. And to accept change.

Knowing you’ll never know or understand the prairie completely —isn’t that the best gift of all? Like a present you look forward to unwrapping… again and again.

***

Wayne Fields, whose quote opens this post, is the Lynne Cooper Harvey Chair Emeritus in English at Washington University in St. Louis, MO. As a child, he grew up in Missouri and Iowa before his family settled in Rock Island, IL. He earned his bachelor’s degree from Augustana College, then a masters and PhD at University of Chicago. Fields has been with Washington University since 1968. He lives in Iowa.

All photos in this week’s blog are from the Schulenberg Prairie at The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL, copyright Cindy Crosby (top to bottom): tall boneset (Eupatorium altissimum); pasture thistle with insects (Cirsium discolor); purple meadow rue (Thalictrum dasycarpum); Indian grass (Sorghastrum nutans); pale Indian plantain (Arnoglossum atriplicifolium); butterflyweed (Asclepias tuberosa) flowering spurge (Euphorbia corollata) foliage; possibly pale-blue gentian (Gentiana x pallidocyanea); rough white lettuce (Prenanthes aspera or Nabalus aspera)–a “10” in Gerould Wilhelm’s & Laura Rericha’s Flora of the Chicago Region— thanks Illinois Botany FB page for help on the ID! a new lettuce for me; New England aster (Symphyotrichum novae-angliae) whose latest name from taxonomists is so difficult to remember and to say.

2 Comments

Posted in autumn, Prairie, Uncategorized, wildflowers

Tagged butterflyweed, flowering spurge, Illinois, indian grass, lisle, milkweed, monarch, new england aster, pale indian plantain, pale-blue gentian, purple meadow rue, schulenberg prairie, seeds, tall boneset, tall thistle, The Morton Arboretum

Tag Archives: purple meadow rue

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“In May one simply can’t help being thankful . . . that they are alive, if for nothing else.” — L.M. Montgomery

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Cindy Crosby

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