Nature Nerd... A Phenology Blog

Snow Shapes

2012-01-13T11:32:00.001-06:00

A new type of Snowbird

While walking outside this morning, I came across a new type of snowbird. This one doesn't head to the sun belt for the winter; indeed, it thrives in cold winters. (I don't know who put this little snowfellow up in the tree, but it made me giggle this morning, so I thought I'd share it with the world.)

Ripples in the Snow

The other remarkable thing about our snowy world this morning was the beautiful wave patterns that the wind created on the snow's surface. Solid water, reminiscent of liquid...

All told, by the way, I think we got about 4 inches of snow? It's hard to tell because the high winds and dropping temperatures made for dry snow that blew everywhere, so there are places with exposed ground and others with huge drifts. I'm thinking 4 is about average, but I didn't research it. Not a terrible storm but we've got a white world for at least a while!

Winter, Interrupted

2012-01-12T13:40:00.002-06:00

OK! We can resume phenology observations... See, what happened there, was that after the Dec. 2 dusting of snow, nature apparently decided to put the seasons out of order, or maybe there was a break in the space-time continuum, or something... because it appeared that we had just skipped winter and went right to March. Yesterday, Jan 11, the temperatures went above 50 deg. And what's worse, that didn't seem abnormal, because we'd had several over-50 days in the past few weeks.

Seriously, some odd phenological events occurred. I kid you not, a lilac bush in my neighbor's yard started leafing out. (I do not know what will happen to said bush at this point. I suspect that the buds that opened, which happily was not all of them, will die and not produce any leaves in the real spring.) The maintenance staff at school was painting and power washing the building exteriors this week. Ducks and geese have still been congregating in the large open-water spaces of the lakes and ponds.

Winter resumes in northern Illinois

So that was just a blip in the phenology radar, and now we're back on track... maybe back where we should have been in mid-December... with our first winter storm of the year. Outside my window, the ground is turning white... still a few blades of grass poke through, but not for long... Snow already adheres to tree branches, giving the world outside a Christmas-card look, lovely, picturesque... it's the pristine white before the humanity induces the slush and the grey hue of exhaust by the roadsides. I hear the insistent scraping of shovel against concrete, as the grounds get shoveled for the second time since snow started falling this morning. That is what maintenance staff members should be doing in January, right?

And it's just in the air, you know, the way it isn't with flurries or a dusting. We're all hunkering down, watching, waiting, hoping for the worst and hoping for the best all at the same time. We're all in it together and yet we're all isolated by the storm. I don't know, it's odd. It just feels, in some intangible way, like a special day.

My boots in the snow!

ps -- I would like to preventatively point out... If anyone still bothers checking this blog after so long, I know there are those who will mention that when it's cold, I tend to complain about it. And this seems like t turn-around. But, see, the natural order of things is this: the weather gets wintry, and I complain about it. But that's because I want a trip to Hawaii, not because I want our climate to be like that of Arkansas. Complaining about the winter is part of the fun of it. AND, while the unseasonable warmth has been great for running, I'm excited about being able to try out my new xc ski boots this weekend.

Still Here

2011-12-04T16:39:00.000-06:00

This afternoon, we drove past 6 sandhill cranes in a farm field. I haven't seen them for weeks, and assumed I wouldn't see any until spring... but they're quite unmistakable. Perhaps, with the warm weather we had for most of the weekend, they migrated back? :) jk. (Most of the weekend was unseasonably warm, and rainy, but the mercury is falling now!)

A Thin Blanket

2011-12-02T16:09:00.000-06:00

We woke up this morning to a thin blanket of snow that, though not deep was persistent through quite a lot of the day. And while we didn't get that much snow, the students were very excited and it was actually quite lovely.

Drips of Ice Frozen onto Indian Grass Seed

Snow Caps on Milkweed Seed Pods

Goldenrod bends under the weight of the snow.

Some Drawings

2011-11-15T19:21:00.001-06:00

Am. Hornbeam Seeds

Am. Cranberrybush Viburnum Fruits

An Adventure!

2011-11-10T15:50:00.001-06:00

Looking down at the accumulated hail-snow.

So this afternoon, I set out for the homestead site (an original farmhouse ruin that's about 1/2 mile away from school) with a class of 3rd graders. The first notable phenology event of the afternoon was that most of the kids in the class had snowpants, so the getting-ready time tripled from what it was yesterday. And they needed those snowpants, too... if not for the snow, for the cold, which felt extreme. It's currently 36 degrees, but with a windchill that makes it feel below freezing. It's very windy. I know that because these little ice pellets were being propelled straight into my face by that wind... and all those 3rd graders' faces... to the point where we truly could not even look up to see where we were going so we just had to stumble around with our hands protecting our faces. Which froze even the most protected of fingers, and many of the tiny fingers weren't well-protected. Seriously, OW! I dressed properly so I really wasn't cold but I can still feel the pinpricks on my face! Add on top of that the excitement factor that the first snow has for children, and let me tell you something. These are not ideal conditions for teaching. They are not ideal conditions for learning. Ah, well. It was an adventure!

Wintry

2011-11-10T07:24:00.000-06:00

Frozen Oak Leaf

In addition to crystallized puddles from last night's sub-freezing temperatures, this morning is graced with the season's first snow flurries. Caught in wind tunnels, they spin and twirl, up down and around, never seeming to land... but they're definitely out there. Mark it down. 11/10/11, first snow (flurries).

Wormy Day

2011-11-08T08:49:00.000-06:00

Though we're into November and we'd expect the earth worms to be digging in and entering estivation some time soon, today's soil-saturating rain has them coming out! Just like on a spring day, the sidewalk is covered with worms this morning.

Today, an Observer

2011-11-06T08:40:00.001-06:00

Despite my ramblings last week, when I went this morning to run in the same place, I took my camera. While I know it's not the case, there's a part of me that doesn't think things are quite as valid if I don't have PROOF that they happened. And I had to make a deal with myself... the camera was WOW! moments, not for stopping to take a picture of the wooly bears that are everywhere right now, or a milkweed seed pod whose fluff caught the morning sun in a special way. (You could argue that those are WOW! moments, too, but... you know what I mean.)

Sandhill cranes at the edge of the water.

Anyhow, I did see sandhill cranes again, but the experience was not quite the same as last week's. I came upon a pair of them at the edge of a pond during a part of my run that was relatively crowded -- me, another runner, and a pair of walkers, all going at different speeds, all converged at this spot at the same time. Whether it was this or something else, the pair of cranes didn't stay long. Shortly after I snapped their photo, they spread their wings and took flight across the small pond and into the field, where they joined 4 other cranes. The six of them, presumably the same six birds from last week, jumped around for a few moments, called their primeval call, but they were far from me this time. Then two took off flying, and I ran on. I got an OK picture. I didn't get a connection, I didn't get to be a crane this week.

Almost more arresting were the geese. This morning was a goose morning. Geese really aren't a phenological harbinger of seasonal change the way they once were. In A Sand County Almanac, Leopold brilliantly described, in 1948, the Return of the Geese as an early sign of spring to which he looked forward every year. Now, geese pretty much stick around year long. It is my understanding that there is a small non-migratory population that sticks around all year, and then a larger migratory group. However, we have summer residents that migrate away, and I suspect we also have winter geese that send their summers way up in Canada and come here for the relief of aerated office park ponds than never freeze. Geese are so common that they've become pests... I wonder how Leopold would feel about the businesses that have sprung up whose sole purpose is to chase the geese away?!?

A flock of Canada Geese heading south.

Still... around this time of year and also in March, there is a whole lot of goose movement. On Friday night, I watched and listened as hundreds of them flew over in several groups, in front of a really spectacular backdrop of sun setting with a unique cloudscape. Unfortunately, I was observing from the parking lot of a Chase, with powerlines and a BOA in the foreground... so not so much a photographic moment. I'm not that good with photoshop. (I don't even have photoshop).

This morning, I saw similar numbers of geese in large groups heading in a generally southerly direction. Their calls are certainly not as eerie and haunting as the crane's, but in the numbers that they were in, it seemed to surround me. So that was kind of neat, too.

I'm ready...

2011-11-03T07:30:00.000-05:00

... for daylight savings time to end!

The short days are becoming more oppressive. This morning -- and please note, it was not an unusually early morning, I arrived at work at around 7 am same as always -- we drove to work in complete darkness. It felt like the middle of the night. At 7:30, it's only just beginning to lighten up behind the thick, low layer of clouds. I know that this weekend's Fall Back means I'll be coming home in the dark, instead. I'd rather just have longer days :) but given the latitude... If I have to choose, I'd choose to leave work at night, not arrive there at night!

Grebe Games

2011-10-28T11:45:00.000-05:00

Grebe

The lake this morning has its usual seasonal complement of mallards and geese. But among them, several grebes swim. Watching diving ducks is one of my favorite passtimes.... they go down, the circles of wake quickly disappearing, and leave the lake flat, undisturbed, as if they never were... and then they pop up! in a totally different spot. Try as I may, I can never predict where they will emerge. It's like a game (that most people don't think is fun).

Nipping at my Nose

2011-10-28T07:30:00.000-05:00

After some early threats in September, our first hard frost hit last night. I kinda feel a little bit sad for the monarch butterfly we saw yesterday while on our tree-checking route. I suspect it had a rough night... but that's how nature works!

Already as the sun peeks over the horizon this morning, the frost is disappearing... sublimating into a low fog that covers the fields, and collecting in pregnant drops at the tips of remaining leaves until, heavy, the drops fall to the ground.

A pool collects in an indent on a remaining sumac leaflet.

I was a Sandhill Crane

2011-10-22T10:06:00.000-05:00

My regular readers, if there still are any at this point, have surely noticed my lack of blog entries despite October being a phenologically interesting time of year. There are two reasons for this. The first is the class I'm taking. It's on Trees and Shrubs, and one of our major assignments is to keep track of the peak color dates and colors of at least 40 species of tree/shrub. In other words, it's a phenology project. In some ways I like the assignment because a) I think phenology is a valuable pursuit, and b) this makes a lot of new people try their hand at phenology. However, it has taken a lot of the art and poetry out of phenology for me and made it a data keeping exercise. (When it's done I'll post it so you all can see that I have still been noting phenophases, if not in the internet.) I guess my mind can't handle 2 phenology projects at once. After I've gone all over with my spreadsheet looking at every tree and noting its progress, I'm in no place to take pictures or draw one of them.

The second reason is my recent fitness commitment. There's a limited amount of time in anyone's life... so some of the time I used to spend meandering slowly with a camera at the ready I now spend jogging, too fast and focused to stop and make observations. This isn't better or worse -- or, it's better for some reasons and worse for others -- but there you have it. I do see things when I'm running, but most of them, with no photographic evidence, don't seem worth writing about when I get home. (Two weeks ago: lots of garter snakes, for example.)

Not the case today. First thing this morning, after starting laundry and fueling up with Kashi and Morning Edition, I went to Rollins Savannah. At this point, the sun just coming over the tree line in the east, it was quite chilly, and I set out on my chosen 4-mile route, ear buds in place. I was aware of the low light and the long shadows, the way the sun's rays caught the morning dew and made the plants sparkle. I was aware of the crispness in the air. But really, I wasn't paying that much attention to things external to me.

Running, to me at least, is a selfish pursuit. It's not selfish in a bad way, not greedy, not taking anything away from anyone or anything else. It's just... self-focused. I think about the my rhythm, my goals, my life, my issues. I listen to my music that no one else can hear. I'm in my own head. And that's where I am on this clear sunny morning when I feel a shadow cross over me, and I look, and there are four sandhill cranes flying overhead. Like, right overhead, probably 20 feet in the air, and getting lower, and they land in a recently mowed field where two others await them. I continue to jog along the trail toward them and I realize that, if I don't scare them, I am going to be among them. I slow, and remove my earbuds... somethings are more important than my self... and they let me enter their midst. The cranes are on both sides of the trail. To my right, five of them walk parallel to the trail, the closest just 15 or 20 feet from me. And to my left, the sixth bird is about 10 feet from the trail. I take their pace, unconsciously start lifting my feet higher to walk as they walk. I am just among them, part of them, one of them. They don't seem to care. We stay this way for a while, a flock of seven... maybe it was only a minute, maybe it was ten, I don't know... if I had been carrying my camera, I could have gotten a close up of their faces, their red heads. I could have shown you the strands of their feathers, a few black ones poking out from under the gray tails, their whole bodies grey, not the brown of the mud with which they sometimes cover themselves. But if I had had a camera, I might have scared them off. And even if not, I would have made myself separate, an observer. I wouldn't have been one of them, for a moment, a crane.

They stopped walking, threw back their heads, and called their haunting call. Eventually, I ran on, still hearing, occasionally, their prehistoric calls piercing the air. The rest of my run, I saw flickers and juncos, heard red-winged blackbirds calling their plaintive call that makes me thing of spring. I got pretty close to them, too, maybe because this morning I was a crane, so I wasn't scary anymore.

So that was my larger moment with the world, born of my time with myself.

2011-09-26T11:59:00.000-05:00

A rainbow lights up our rainy week.

I spent last week on a school trip in Northern Wisconsin, which is a lovely place to start fall (and is the reason for my lack of equinox posting). During all four days I was there, the weather could not make up its mind... did it want to rain? be cloudy? sunny? Uable to make up its mind, the weather changed every five minutes. The weekend back home was more of the same... downpour, followed by blazing sun, and lovely, changing cloudscapes... with a few really rainy days sprinkled in there. The reward of this MPD weather pattern is that this is the third rainbow I've seen in the past few days (and the only one I got a picture of). It arced fully across the sky as the sun shone through the gently falling raindrops.

Dragonfly

2011-09-17T12:13:00.000-05:00

Yellow-legged Meadowhawk

A smallish, almost completely red-abdomened beauty rests on my fence. He's pretty, no?

My Kinda Creepy Moment

2011-09-16T11:47:00.000-05:00

So this morning, I'm out using an insect sweep net to show a class of kindergarteners some cool bug critters. We found a lot -- I was worried after yesterday's cold, but it's a lot warmer today and the arthropod world seems as active as ever. So I empty a net onto a white cloth and there are some little beetles crawling around and ants and I want to sort of clear the debris so we can really take stock of what critters we have. I reach for a round ball that I thought was some sort of seed head, and pick it up... and it's really mushy. Because it's a ginormous spider, curled into a ball out of fear. (A defense mechanism, it should be noted, that almost worked!) I had to work on NOT screaming "EEK!" like a cartoon person who discovers a mouse.

The kindergarten kids, a lot of them haven't learned fear yet. It's great, they take crab spiders and hold them in their hands, they let caterpillars crawl all over them, they pet the true bugs and touch the ants and everything. Older kids, a lot of them won't do that, especially with the spiders. I assume this is at least in part because they see adults like me react with an "EEK!" when we encounter spiders. And I actually like bugs pretty well, especially outside of my house, but still. They "EEK" reaction when I touch it is just some sort of natural response, no matter how fascinated I am two seconds later when I've gotten over it all.

The ball of a spider, who stayed tightly tucked up for at least 10 minutes after I put her in a magnifying box for closer viewing, was an aptly-named Marble orb weaver. Her mushy abdomen was about the size and shape of a marble. White splotches mottled its tan surface. When she eventually stretched out to walk around, her legs were zebra-striped, black and white, and somewhat hairy. And long. She was really quite lovely, if you can get in the mindset where spiders can be lovely.

Unfortunately, I didn't get to snap a photo of her -- total oversight on my part. I sent her away with a different class of kids, who released her back into the wild... where she apparently immediately started spinning. That sort of makes me feel guilty about the web she must have worked hard on previously, only to have me inadvertently destroy it... but it wasn't on purpose, so what can I do?

Yikes!

2011-09-15T07:28:00.000-05:00

What that is, there on that rooftop, is frost. It was a patchy frost -- really patchy... in fact, the rooftops at school seem to be about the only frost I see, but still, it's frost.

Last year's first patchy frost was Oct. 4. In 2009, it was Oct 1.
It's Sept 15... It was in the 30's when I woke up. Wow...

Socks

2011-09-14T11:38:00.000-05:00

Today's phenology event is: Socks. May not sound like one, but... today is the first day since spring that I have had to wear socks all day (in this country). I am less than thrilled about it. Winds from the north brought yesterday the disturbing smell of the north woods burning, and today a distinct chill. The kind of chill that doesn't abide sandals.

And in case the weather wasn't enough to make me realize what was coming our way, I got hit over the head with it at Ace Hardware this morning. In addition to mums, their outside display area now contains shelves and shelves of... you guessed it... pumpkins! We must actively try to remember that we're still over 2 week away from October, people...

Muncher

2011-09-09T07:10:00.001-05:00

Not the season's first, and won't be the last, but the monarch caterpillars are pretty common right now, as monarch caterpillars go. I found 3 in one small patch of milkweed. And I could look at them forever, even though they don't do much but slowly munch...

(quick sketch... a bug that doesn't move too fast to draw!)

(Portrait of the munching end)

(The whole thing.)

(A much earlier instar on a neighboring plant)

Argiope

2011-08-25T16:42:00.000-05:00

A sure sign that summer's giving up the fight... huge argiope spiders sitting in perfect orb webs, sewn up the middle, all over the prairies. Or in this case, right smack dab in the middle of a window, which is pretty cool for the class inside that can watch any wrapping and snacking that occurs.

New Plant and New Bird

2011-08-24T15:47:00.000-05:00

I learned a new plant today, the Wild Senna. I almost weeded it, but then thought better, and I'm glad I didn't. Apparently it's rare-ish. And useful as a laxative, in case anyone's looking.

This little waxwing apparently fledged too early. He's so cute; I hope he makes it!

Spartina

2011-08-19T21:01:00.003-05:00

Thinking of Spartina makes me think of my time in the salt marshes on the Georgia coast, but prairie cordgrass is a Spartina sp. also. It is one of the tallest prairie grasses. Though I find it quite beautiful and subtly striking, if that makes sense, I'm glad it's not too common in these parts. Its leaves slice the hands of those who unsuspectingly like to touch all the plants they pass by. (Not that I know anyone like that.) At this moment, pale pink flowers dangle from its stiff, branching seed spikes, blowing in the wind, getting tangled with each other...

Wild Petunia

2011-08-13T09:32:00.004-05:00

...it's one of those native plants that I don't think I've ever seen growing native, but it does have a nice pop of mid-summer color (lavender) in a low plant that's good for edges... we don't have any in our yard but plan to get a bunch when we do the side yard next year.

A Page of Prairie Dock

2011-08-11T11:04:00.005-05:00

The notes read: "Flower stalks of the prairie dock rise high above their leaves, which are enormous, rough, veiny, cool. In the early morning, the buds still lean towards the setting sun of yesterday afternoon. Already, as I finish they begin turning their hears toward the east... The leaves are tipped in red, translucent and deeply shadowed with the morning sun... Still rolled tightly, terminal buds hold the promise of yellow.... Grasshopper rests on a leaf, hops when I touch him... Leaves clasp the stems -- the lower down on the stalk the longer the leaf's stem, like increasingly evolved giraffe necks [getting only so long that they can effectively reach food without giving up the ability to hold up the food grabber; leaf in this case, head in giraffe's]. Higher up, the "necks" are stubby, short, even absent at the top. Leaf teeth also get larger the further down the leaf is on the plant."

I am thrilled to have these stalks to draw in my yard. See, I planted this prairie dock, and 2 others, at least 6 years ago. They've done well enough, coming back the first couple of years with a few leaves and the last several years with huge leaves, many of them, looking robust and healthy. But this is the first year I have gotten the flower stalks. There are 8 of them total. I used to fear that my plants were somehow not happy, didn't like their places although the leaves were large. Now I think they were just children, and they have finally reached adolescence and started to grow tall. Next week, perhaps, the first yellow flowers will bloom upon them.

That reminds me... I saw this other phenology blog (I know, right?) that used a really neat method to convey a lot of information really fast. It listed plants and then weekly progress reports, as in:

Prairie dock:

last week -- flower stalks about 3-4 feet tall

this week -- flower stalks 5-6 feet tall, still no flowers

Ironweed:

last week -- the first, bright purple flowers opening

this week -- full bloom

Etc. I love this idea... and, although I don't like the idea of copying another person... well, no ideas are really original anymore, right? And this format would allow me to go back to making more scientific phenological observations and recordings, which I haven't really been doing lately. I've just been profiling a few plants as they catch my eye enough, at some point in their life cycle, for me to want to draw them. Well. We'll see. (Opinions welcome.)

A Jewel Among Flowers

2011-08-07T21:09:00.003-05:00

My long term followers may recall my ongoing plot to take over part of my side yard with jewelweed. Two years ago, I dug up 3 plants from my mom's house, where they are plentiful, and I watered and cared for them. I didn't think they'd make it, as every day they wilted as though they'd been transplanted to the Sarah, rather than a shady patch of yard near where they started. But they survived and flowered and popped their seeds all over and last year I had many jewelweeds emerge and go through their entire life cycle with no help from me. This spring, the seedlings were so plentiful and had spread so far that some had to be annihilated due to their pathway location.

However, the long hot and dry spell was not good for my jewelweeds. I had pretty much taken to ignoring them, and their whole part of the yard, which is overgrown but generally takes care of itself well enough. When I noticed that many of the jewelweeds weren't faring well, it was already too late for many of them. (The fern area right next to the jewelweed area suffered a similar fate, for the first time in 8 years...) Anyhow, a few of them did survive to flower, but not that many. Not as many as last year. So we'll see how things go. Meanwhile, they are still going strong at my mom's house, where the flower sketched above from many angles grew.

To Honor and Obey

2011-08-06T21:05:00.003-05:00

Obedient plant is named for the fact that, while the flowers come off the stem in a severely square arrangement, you can move them around and they will stay at the new angle. (My specimen appears to have that same quality in its stem! Or some random mutation that caused a kink to the side...) The flowers have a lovely pinkish hue, turning to white, decorated with deep purple spots that seem to be very effective at calling insects in. I watched many crawl into the tube-like flowers as I sketched them.

Cuppa Joe

2011-08-01T16:50:00.005-05:00

Another whorl-leafed flower currently in peak bloom, Joe Pye weed. This particular stem had an oddity of some of the leaf whorls having one removed by an inch or so... Joe Pye weed has become, well, as weed in my yard, and it's one of those things that I sought out and planted and cared for and now am pulling out in the randomest of places. And because it's so tall, it looks pretty bad if I don't get it. Oh, well. You live, you learn. (Not that I wouldn't have planted it, but...)

The Pull of the Pencil

2011-07-31T21:26:00.003-05:00

It has been so long since I've blogged, I almost couldn't start up again. In the end, after a month of watching first and last blooms, after seeing the earth thirst for water in hundred degree heat, and then soggy from many days of 2-inch rainfalls, I finally sat down with my sketchbook and that brought me back. (And speaking of back, mine got sunburned, despite my religious daily application of sunscreen. I may have sweated it all off, as it topped 90 degrees today and we took a long bike ride before stopping to draw/read.)

Culver's root has been blooming for a while now, the delicate white flowers opening first at the bottom and progressing towards the sunshine, the sky, the tippy top of the plant. At this point, most of them are getting close, but the top of each stalk still has buds on it... but I chose to focus, instead, on the whorled leaves in this sketch. Five toothed leaves shoot out in irregular stars, getting smaller toward the top of the stem.

What else is noteworthy right now?

The prairies are jeweled with coneflowers, both yellow and purple, and with blazing star. Compass plant blooms everywhere but in my yard, oddly enough, where queen of the prairie is still holding on to its pink color. Ironweed blooms, some coreopsis still hold on.

In the wooded areas, it's not the most exciting time... sort of ironic, that the summer is really the prairie's season to shine, but all that shining... of the sun, that is... makes enjoying the prairie's colors difficult... BUT the Campanula's purple flowers are blooming and are quite a treat.

Hey, not to be totally random, but that reminds me of a little anecdote... my dad kept talking about the bluebells in England in the spring, and we had all these long conversations about the bluebells that carpeted the woods there and in my mind, there are Mertensia, but his bluebells are actually a Campanula (though not the americana that is blooming here), which I didn't figure out until eventually we saw some still blooming in Scotland. And which genus I generally call a bellflower. There's a lesson there about the danger of using common names... and yet I will persist in doing so, despite being plenty versed in the scientific names as to be able to use them.

And speaking of our trip to England and Scotland. I think that may have been one reason why I stopped writing. It was too much, too overwhelming. I have hundreds of pictures of plants. Almost a hundred just of heath orchids, which I found to be so beautiful and yet so... subtle, with their small size. I thought about writing an entry for each day, but honestly... that's not really the purview of this blog, it's not phenologically relevant and it STILL seemed overwhelming. But here are a few of my thoughts:

England is nice. That seems like a bland statement and also a silly, not-at-all-deep-thought statement, but that may actually go along with what I mean. It's so mild, with warm, pleasant summers and, though I have not been there in the winter, I believe those are also absent of the weather extremes that we experience here. (Although, global climate change may, um, change all that. Or submerge it. Whatever.) And while pleasant may not seem exciting, there is something alluring about pleasant. That religious persecution must have been really bad, only I wouldn't want to leave the English countryside to avoid it. (Please read as tongue-in-cheek!)

It's a personality match thing, I guess. As we hiked the Scottish highlands, Chris brought up Scottish-born American naturalist John Muir. Upon returning to his birthland in old age, after a lifetime of bagging peaks in the US West, he proclaimed Scotland to be inferior, and not just a little bit so. His must have been a personality that thrived on ruggedness and stark grandeur, as many are. And others of us want to be cradled in something... nice. Like an English garden.

Here's the thing. There is something deeply ingrained in us about the aesthetic of English gardens. Believe you me, I have tried to break myself of this. I plant native plants and I recognize that turf grass is ecologically horrible (at least here) and I really, really try not to see its appeal. Anyone who's been in my yard knows that straight lines and order are NOT how I roll. And yet. And yet... culturally, embedded almost as deeply as a biological truth are the ordered landscape of a lawn and an ornamental garden. The well-planned natural meadow that has been tamed for centuries in a way that things here just don't seem to be tamable. I don't know.

Although I will say, it was hard to get over the nativeness of some things that here are terribly invasive weeds. Funny, how things program themselves in my head to be desirable or not based not on pleasing looks (or lack thereof) but on what I know about them. Because some of them are quite lovely...

Well, that's enough for now. Perhaps tomorrow I will decide to draw some more...

We're Back

2011-07-07T10:41:00.002-05:00

We're safely back from the UK with loads of pictures... so many that the task of choosing them and blogging them seems terribly daunting. I will get around to it soon, though!

Here, coreopsis and spiderwort are still blooming, and a few foxglove beardtongues, but the primroses seemed to have finished while we were gone. Bergamot is at "almost" and butterfly week and queen of the prairie are just about to get started, too... Puple coneflowers are also flowering.

Happy Summer!

2011-06-21T12:16:00.000-05:00

Today at 12:16 local time, the sun hit its northern-most point, thus officially beginning summer 2011. Or more accurately, the sun didn't do anything out of the ordinary, if you consider the sun's daily activities of creating enough energy by nuclear fusion to power our planet as a side job, and anchoring the solar system, etc., ordinary... but the earth, in its annual tilted orbit, hit the point when the north pole was tilted as much toward the sun as it gets. That makes this the longest day of the year for this particular location, and any other northern one.

Since we're traveling to Scotland (EXCITING!!!), we'll get some longer days... also some computer-free days, so expect another absence, followed by some prolific blogging...

Happy Solstice!

Vertebrates of Devil's Lake

2011-06-17T21:50:00.000-05:00

The nine group camp sites at Devil's Lake form a semi-circle. In the center of the circle, next to the shower'bath house facilities, is a stand of pine trees that, for as long as I remember, is home to a great blue heron rookery. I've no idea how many birds nest there, but they are constantly coming and going. Their warbles and cackles are the white noise of the sites, and their occasional screams pierce the air in a most disconcerting way. It keeps things from being dull, that's for sure.

This little fellow decided to fledge a bit early. It wasn't injured, as far as we could tell, but it managed to wander itself right into the bathroom complex. And it was ferocious. Though not even close to its full adult size, its feet and beak, overlarge for its stature, may have been their size. And even if not, they were imposing. It made a racket when someone approached, both by calling and by clicking its beak. Chris did manage to rescue it and return it to the grove of pines where the nests are, and when we went to check on it, it was gone. I hope that it survived...

In addition to herons, we saw these Sandhills several times. They seemed to inhabit a farm field near the park, and enjoy wading in this pond which was across the road. At one point, we actually ran across -- though happily not over -- the pair in the road. Here, we saw them dancing in the water right close to us... but by the time I was picture-ready, they had moved across the pond.
Fox snake getting ready to strike (right in the middle).
This turtle is burying eggs (or,digging in preparation to lay them). We saw another crossing the road, probably to find a nest site, and we saw a HUGE snapper moving away from the water, presumably for the same reason.
Little red squirrel. They are so much cuter and feistier and chirpier than the grey ones we see here. I just love them.

Plants of Devil's Lake (and a Fungi)

2011-06-17T10:27:00.001-05:00

Obviously, I saw thousands of plants in five days. And many, many of them were doing something phenologically interesting. I limit, therefore, my reporting, to a few that are new to me, or special, or just pretty.

This pale corydalis was new to me, and not the easiest to identify, either. Its leaves are similar to Dutchman's breeches -- feathery -- and its irregular flowers have striking color changes, though, which gave it away once I figured it out. It seems to prefer growing in rocky areas.

Native honeysuckles, of which we saw a few, including this hairy honeysuckle, are always exciting. They provide a nice contrast to the evil invasive things that out-compete native trees and shrubs that we usually refer to when talking about honeysuckles.

I did get to see my hoary puccoon at the Shack after all... just a month later.

I did not know that the foxglove beardtongue, quite common and blooming all over right now, had a native sibling, the large-flowered beardtongue -- Penstemon grandiflorus. The pale purple flowers are really very lovely, and I want one badly. Next native plant purchasing season, this will be my quest. They will look lovely in our side yard, which is next year's major project...

The squawroot or cancerroot was a mystery plant last year (see entry on May 21) and I was happy to remember it and its habits this year... though I did have to look up its name again!
These fungi had such a neat purple color...

See people? I really edited myself on the plants.

Next: Vertebrates, and then we're done with the trip!

Blue Flag Iris

2011-06-16T21:15:00.000-05:00

Creepy Crawlies of Devil's Lake

2011-06-15T21:34:00.001-05:00

During five days spent at Devil's Lake and the surrounding areas, I encountered many fascinating arthropods. Happily for the reader, many of them moved way too quickly for me to capture with my camera, so you are spared the details of clubtails and saddlebags and bluets and many varieties of odonata. With lepidoptera, my camera and I did a little bit better. The swallowtails pictured above must have found some sort of desirable mineral deposits, because they clustered at the water's edge, and allowed me to get close enough to see the wing scales that give their order their name. Eventually, our proximity did alarm them, and a cloud of yellow butterflies fluttered in every direction around us, which nearly made me laugh out loud...

I also captured on film this pearl crescent and, from very far away, this luna moth.

Despite much trying, I was unable to get a picture of a black butterfly, 2-3 inches, with blue in its lower wings, possibly an admiral? We also found a fat-bodied, pink-winged cecropia moth, hanging out under the lights of the campsite bathroom (silly me, I didn't think to bring my camera to the toilet at night. Now I know.) (And of course, we saw a number of sulphurs and skippers and plain moths that didn't get their picture taken.)

By far the most common insect we saw were the larval form... caterpillars were everywhere. Smooshed on the trails because you couldn't avoid them, hitchhiking rides on our shirts because we accidentally walked into them as they hung from silken strands, and slowly munching their way through leaves galore. The tent caterpillars (eastern and forest, respectively) were the most common.

But we did see a lot of these, which I will call inchworms because that's what we called them as kids. I guess it's really a geometer. Whatever. That sounds like a tool for measuring shapes, or something. Inchworm sounds like a charming song, like childhood. Inchworm, inchworm, measuring the marigolds, seems to me you'd stop and see how beautiful they are...

This delicious-looking (think like a bird, dear readers... it's chubby and not at all hairy... yum...) specimen remains unidentified. It was removed from its host plant by a child who was carrying it in her pocket and proudly showing it off to hikers traveling in the other direction, which means my hopes of ID are pretty much shot.

One last larva -- a saw fly chewing up Solomon's seal.

Some other notable insects...

to the left is a fat fuzzy bumble bee snacking on a legume of some sort. To the right is a beetle, which I have absolutely no hope of identifying, but which I initially passed, thinking, "There's a bee on the trail," and then, "wait a minute, that's not a bee..."

This spider was HUGE. Chris described it as the size of a saucer. That may be a slight exaggeration. But only slight.

A centipede crawls around on the wet rocks.

And there ends the bug tour of Sauk County. I should have taken a picture of the deer tick that was on me. It was the smallest darn thing, very creepy.

Up next: Plants.

Jumping In...

2011-05-31T12:01:00.004-05:00

Having stopped writing for so long, it's hard to start again. I feel like I have to have something spectacular to say, something more than just that the columbines are in full bloom, and the lilies of the valley. The prairie alumroot. The phlox. The golden Alexander, Jacob's ladder. Shooting star and may apples. Although this is what I need to write, I suppose... Right now, there is plenty to report, though we are sort of in the lull between spring flowers and summer ones. Plenty happens in that lull, though, it's still spring, after all.

In the past four weeks, I started and finished the spring camping trips that I take with students. I traveled to Devil's Lake in Wisconsin and then to Warren Dunes, MI, for two rainy and chilly weeks in a row. (Both were beautiful...) Our front yard has been transformed from turf grass into a native garden and all the vegetables and herbs are in the ground. And finally, on Memorial Day, it got hot. Sweat-while-you're-doing-nothing hot... this, following a 48 degree high on May 26, which tied the record for coldest May 26 here ever! Spring in the Midwest...

School winds down this week for the summer, but we're busy busy all through the month of June. I shall try to be better about keeping data and blogging...

Hairy Puccoon

2011-05-19T21:17:00.000-05:00

Each year, I look forward to my spring trip to Leopold's shack for several reasons, and one of them is the hoary puccoon in bloom. Its brilliant orange-yellow color, deep as an ocean, is just, I think, the prettiest shade. This year, due to the cool spring, or the one-week-earlier schedule of our trip, hoary puccoon was not in bloom. So I was very excited, the following week, to come across what I though was hoary puccoon at Warren Dunes the following week. Turns out it's actually hairy puccoon, a close relative that seems pretty much indistinguishable to me, but I'm trusting the MDNR website. So here is my inaccurate rendering of its un-copyable color...

PS -- The puccoon disappointment at the Shack was more than made up for by this experience: we were sitting right in front of the shack itself, almost ready to enter, looking at pictures of the Leopold family's journies to the destination in the 40s. We hear the unmistakable, primordial call of cranes overhead. We all crane our necks (no pun intended) to see them... and above us, we see a pair, soaring... with black wingtips and pure white bodies. That's right. Whooping cranes flew over our heads as we sat in front of Aldo Leopold's shack. We were blessed (but not blessed enough to get a photo).

2011-05-16T16:23:00.000-05:00

I realize I have been remiss about writing lately, in a time of year when the world seems to change every day. I can make excuses... I have been plagues by minor injuries and illnesses, as has my car. I have been on school trips. I have been extremely busy, what with this being such an important time of year for gardening, plus all of the above.

But the truth? I just haven't felt that much like writing, or taking pictures. When it becomes a chore...

And the world really is changing. I look out my window and see the first lilacs blooming. Just about everything is leafed out... even the oaks and the ashes have leaves at this point. Crabapples and redbuds are blooming. And it is still really cold. (Last week, we had a few days of pre-summer. In fact, it hit 90 in Chicago and the upper 80s where I was in Wisconsin. But that was just a tease, and then we had a weekend that didn't top 50 for even a single minute, and was wet to boot.) At least it's sunny today.

A Solomon's Seal...

2011-05-13T21:28:00.000-05:00

...unfurls its early spring self at Devil's Lake State Park, WI, 5/12/11.

A Few Quick Updates

2011-05-06T19:47:00.003-05:00

I really haven't the energy or inclination to write much. I actually feel like I want to draw, but the plant I want to draw is no where near a place I could sit. And I don't draw from photographs, and I don't want to pick it, and it's getting dark anyhow. And so, a quick update on what's happening, mainly for record-keeping purposes. And there is so much going on, I'm leaving out a ton. Beech leaf outs, maple leaf outs, flowering ornamental shrubs all over the place...

First, early wild strawberry.

First, early golden Alexander.

Bellwort blooming (this is what I want to draw.)

Hepatica still blooming... it was the first of the ephemerals in my yard and it may well be the last... although spring beauties are still going strong...

Bluebells are in full bloom and I'm starting to see their color all over.

I used to have these dwarf irises all over my yard, and several large varieties that bloom later. The person who used to live here must have loved them. I have mostly killed them off by neglect. I liked them all right, but my attitude is this. The first year, I'll give you TLC like crazy. I love my plants and am very good to them. The second year, I'll help you out if I can. After that, you gotta be able to take it on your own. I don't want any perennials that I have to care for. This is why I plant native.

But it's also why I have tulips (full bloom) and daffodils (mostly spent at this point). If you're not evil, and you can compete with the big boys, you can stay.
If you're evil, on the other hand, I'll take care of you. This is creeping Charlie flowering. Creeping Charlie is the bane of my existence this year; I hate it. And I am losing the war against it. In other news of the evil, garlic mustard has started flowering as well. But not in my yard! I did win that battle the first year I lived here and have never had any since. I wish it were so easy with the others. I fight buckthorn every year...

Also noteworthy: I have 13 stalks of sweetgrass flowers. Apparently it's hard to get it to flower, so I feel pretty good about that.

OK. It's 8 pm. Is that too early for bed?

Blooms

2011-05-05T16:01:00.001-05:00

The first -- very early -- serviceberries are flowering today.

Tulips are now in full bloom here.

It is still unseasonably chilly.

Today...

2011-05-03T18:37:00.002-05:00

You know, today was a pretty nice day for March 3.

What? What's that? It's MAY 3? Oh, well, in that case...

It was pretty darn chilly. Definitely didn't hit 50 degrees today, that's for sure. May not have crept above 45. The average temperature for May 3 in Grayslake is 60.

Ah, well...

Trout Lilies

2011-05-01T21:39:00.000-05:00

A Yellow Day (Plus)

2011-04-30T18:50:00.003-05:00

Celandine poppies first opened yesterday, and are all open today!

The marsh marigolds opened fully sometime this week...

Yellow maple flowers and yellow willow flowers give many trees a spring-green appearance.

Wild ginger's hidden burgundy flowers bloom among the leaf litter.

If this is any indication, my evil plot to have jewelweeds take over my side yard is working!

The most phenologically significant bird sighting I've had is baby goslings. I saw the brown and yellow fluff balls from the driver's seat of the car, however, so I didn't get a photo. But the egret was so close yesterday, I took its picture; and the tree swallow so shimmery in the sun...

Wind in the Willows

2011-04-29T16:58:00.004-05:00

First order of business. Thank you to the higher powers. Today was a lovely day, cool but sunny.

This sketch shows willow sticks at various stages of their bloom, both of which are present now. The sketch was too tall for the scanner!

Are You There, God? It's Me, Naomi...

2011-04-28T16:14:00.000-05:00

(Any of you people remember that book? I must've read it 10 times. Loved it. Not relevant.)

This is my plea to whatever higher powers are governing my universe: Can we please please have some sunny-and-60 spring days soon? I believe it would be good for humanity in general. I mean, if you're testing our patience, we lose. I think it's pretty clear looking at our instant gratification culture of fast food and fast internet and fast everything that we're not patient. If you're testing our endurance, I'll concede there, too. Heated houses, cars, trains, and buses to carry us around... we're wimpy. I admit it. Now, can we get on with the nice part of spring already? Before people start getting hurt? (I mean, more than they already have in the floods and tornadoes that, thankfully, have not affected this area too terribly.) All this chilly rain, they say it's the result of...

La Nina. The little girl. It sounds so benign, friendly, even. But let me tell you, I am really getting tired of the pesky little brat. La Nina occurs when Pacific Ocean water temperatures are lower than normal in the region surrounding the equator. Though thousands of miles from here, the water temperature there affects the jet stream, which carries our weather, and, in the end... though not as severely as if we lived further west, La Nina is making our spring cooler than average. Also rainier. And honestly? I'm ready for some warm dry days!

On to the less complainy portion of the post. This morning I had the pleasure of watching a coyote trot along the trail next to me for a while, seemingly oblivious to human presence. And I sighted another low flying, single sandhill crane. They must be nesting somewhere nearby. All over I see that faint green haze that appears to hover around newly leafed-out trees in the distance. I haven't really been reporting on leaf0outs this spring, but they are happening... tiny, translucent leaves are emerging on several types of tree and shrub... lilacs and crabapples, birches and willows and aspens. Buckthorns and box elders and honeysuckles. It's slow and it's late, but spring marches on.

Cedar Waxwings

2011-04-27T18:26:00.001-05:00

Suddenly, they descend upon us in large flocks that adorn the trees for a short while, and then take leave.

Dandelion

2011-04-25T16:20:00.000-05:00

Starting today, I noticed yards dotted with yellow...

In My Yard...

2011-04-24T15:19:00.004-05:00

Bloodroot is blooming. I am pleased -- there are 7 flowers in 3 bunches, all doing very well despite the aggressive campaign being waged against them by creeping charlie.

Now, normally I wouldn't put a photo of what I just sketched. Besides being redundant, it only serves to highlight the inaccuracies in my drawing. Especially this sketch... I had to sit farther away than I prefer from the plant -- I like to be able to touch it, move my head around to different angles, etc. But I didn't want to crush a bunch of other stuff, like baby mayapples or uvularia or wild ginger or trout lilies, or even the Dutchman's breeches foliage that I found in 3 places in the yard but none with any hope of flowering this year. Anyway, to get to the point... a bee landed on the flower while I was sketching, and I got a picture of it, so I included it. Also the same bee landed on a clump of hepatica.

Also blooming in my yard...

spring beauties and Greek anenomes. A lot of fiddleheads are poking up, too... I tried to sketch the spring beauties, but only proved what I've known for a while and re-discovered yesterday. I can only do one sketch a day. Or at least without a significant break. I don't know what gets tires, my brain or my hands, or what, but the second one is always terrible. And usually incomplete. So, it's not here.

NOT yet blooming in my yard are marsh marigold or bluebells.

Ephemerals

2011-04-23T19:47:00.005-05:00

Ephemeral. Fleeting. Our spring weather has been ephemeral this. Thursday, after snow and rain, we had a lovely spring day... to be followed by a cold and wet Friday. Today was, again, lovely, but by Monday we're supposed to be back to three days of chilly rain.

Today we walked at the gardens. The spring ephemerals were in full bloom. (Being 20 miles south, they are a couple of days ahead of us. Being professional horticulturists, they are probably another couple of days ahead of us.) As proof of point, I can't even get Dutchman's breeches (sketched above) to grow at my house. There it grows in huge clumps of feathery leaves.

Their bloodroot was actually on it's way out...

Trout lily.

Anenome.

Spring beauty.

Trillium.

Bluebells, just starting to bloom.

Marsh marigold.

This magnolia is from the exact tree I sketched last year on April 1 last year. It is, perhaps, a little further along in its lifecycle. But not much.

Prairie smoke. (OK, those last aren't ephemerals, but whatever.)

April 22

2011-04-22T12:00:00.001-05:00

Happy Earth Day!

In Memoriam

2011-04-20T11:39:00.000-05:00

This morning, not far from where the mourning doves were sitting on the nest that I photographed on the March 24 entry, I found a dead baby mourning dove. It had probably frozen to death, whether before or after leaving the nest, I don't know. We gave it a proper burial; its nutrients will return to the earth and make a strong prairie this summer.

It serves as a reminder that while we complain about the unseasonable cold, whine about the constant chilled rain and about having to change all our plans, moan about what a bummer of an Earth Week this is... we can come in from the cold, and change all our plans. For most out there, this is a matter of life or death. It's more than an annoyance. It is certainly not unheard of or even rare for us to have a cold day in April, or a snowshower. But I believe this extended cold and wetness this late in the year is unusual, and it is hard for the critters out there.

(I heard this morning that we have had 3 times our normal April rainfall already this year, and we still have more than a week of April left. With a lot of rain predicted in that time. All I can say is, we better have some really pretty May flowers.)

Earth Week Begins in Cold

2011-04-18T16:55:00.001-05:00

"Behold! It is the spring-tide of the year.

Over and past is winter's gloomy reign."

These words are sung as part of our Seder, but this year, they seem, somehow... inaccurate. We awoke this morning to 2-3 inches of wet snow which even now isn't completely melted. It isn't uncommon for a spring snow to cover our daffodils... just the last one I recorded happened on April 5 -- a lot earlier in the season. I just hope this is the last!

But things are still moving forward... the yellow blur in the middle of this photo is a goldfinch. Key word: Yellow! That's summer plumage.

DON'T Let it Snow...

2011-04-16T18:05:00.000-05:00

We capped off a few days of chill, including a long, steady, cold rain, with some SNOW! Lucky us. It didn't stick or anything.

Pasque Part 2

2011-04-13T18:03:00.002-05:00

Today I sketched my pasqueflower. First I drew the flower from a regular view (on the right) and I was pretty pleased with the flower part. The stem and leaves, however, were so hairy that they a) required too much patience, and b) were too difficult to really capture. There's so much fuzz you can hardly tell what shape the leaves actually are! If it were a common plant, or a weed, I'd stick my finger in there and move them around and get a better view, but I didn't want to hurt my plant. For the second (left) sketch, I bent over more to view it right from the side, sort of like how it was photographed yesterday. The sun was shining through the petals, so the places where they overlapped appeared really dark, while the places where they didn't appeared bright white. Same problem with the leaves.

Today

2011-04-12T20:34:00.009-05:00

"There are some who can live without wild things, and some who cannot. These essays are the delights and dilemmas of one who cannot.

"Like winds and sunsets, wild things were taken for granted until progress began to do away with them. Now we face the question of whether a still higher 'standard of living' is worth its cost in things natural, wild and free. For us of the minority, the opportunity to see geese is more important than television, and the chance to find a pasque-flower is a right as inalienable as free speech..."

Pasqueflowers always make me think of Aldo Leopold. They secured an honored place in the second paragraph of the forward to ASCA... probably the most important and influential phenological document ever, not to mention one of the 2 most "impactful" environmental works ever written (and written over 60 years ago, so it's amazing how current its themes still seem. The other impactful book, by the way, is Silent Spring, this according to the American Nature Study Society). And so to me they have special significance. With their early bloom, they remind me that spring really will win over winter. Their rarity drives home the message of Leopold's book. Their diminutive size, almost hidden among last year's litter, tells us that beauty and wonder can come in small packages.

So, yea!! My pasqueflowers are blooming. I have no idea why they are so terribly pale, but I am thrilled that they came back. I've had a terrible time with them, never getting one to come back more than once. That includes this one, as we just put it in last year. Perhaps they only live for two years, though that doesn't seem right... And they're so hard to find, this is my last effort!

Other good news: my ephemerals did, indeed, come back. At least most of them. Shown below are bloodroot, mayapple, and a trillium, all behind last year's pace but there nonetheless. Shooting stars are also well along, and wild geraniums, and spring beauties, and wild ginger, and marsh marigold (one) and bluebells. The only things that didn't return to my yard are my red baneberry and my Dutchman's breeches.

These hepatica are in my mom's yard. They are a lot happier than mine. (Actually, my one that bloomed the other day isn't looking good at all. I suspect that was it's final attempt at productivity before expiring. I have two others that look like they'll be more like this, but they haven't bloomed yet at all.) My mom also has a Dutchman's breeches about 1.5 inches tall.

Oh, and we are having a major creeping charlie problem, which we may have to fight using drastic measures or we risk losing most of the aforementioned wildflowers.

April Flowers

2011-04-11T20:00:00.006-05:00

I put 3 daffodils in a dragonfly frog-vase. I endeavored to sketch them. I thought it would be simple. Such a familiar trumpet shape... not so. They were quite difficult. I'm not entirely satisfied with the results, but I suppose you can judge for yourself.

I thought this photograph made a simple pussy willow catkin, newly green with pollen, look rather grand. Imposing, even.

Forsythia (below left) provide quite a pop of color... though they're not my favorite flower or shrub, they are definitely noticeable. Not like the diminutive flowers of the elms (below right), whose purple anthers are so dark as to seem brown and whose small stature renders them unnoticeable.

Everybody's Out...

2011-04-10T16:10:00.006-05:00

...enjoying the beautiful weather. Yes, we finally got one of those days -- one of those weekends, better yet -- when you can sit outside, unmoving, and feel warm. When the temperature feels like summer although the colors are still early spring. A day that smells like sunscreen. One of those days when the slog through winter seems worthwhile, because we got to this, and it's marvelous because we waited so long for it.

And everyone is out enjoying it. We saw about 20 turtles, sitting on a log and soaking in the day. As we approached, they one by one plopped into the water, and then re-emerged, the sunbathing too enticing and the people too distracted by the little skull they found:

(About 3 inches long, non-rodent, not a lot of teeth... present or originally, for that matter).

Dragonflies were out, too... happy day!!! I first saw him as a flash, just that, that disappeared into the trees, but I knew that nothing else shimmers the same way in the sunshine. When we stood still and watched the pond, we were able to see several darting past, soaring and diving. They were male green darners and none alighted long enough for a photo op, but that's OK. We've got months of odonata watching ahead of us.

Snakes were out, although the only one I saw disappeared quickly into the grass. Frogs were out, also, calling loudly but there was also a froggy plop, animal unseen, as we approached the water.

The bugs were out, flies and gnats swarming... yesterday I saw my first wasp, and today I saw several more. First mosquito, too, although it is no more.

This tick (left) hitched a ride on my pants but didn't make it to my skin, thankfully. I also took a picture of this velvet mite, a much friendlier little arachnid, because the red dot caught my eye.

Spring ephemerals certainly aren't out in strength yet, but...

this hepatica decided to grace us with a bloom today, and violets are in full force. Others are just leaves yet, spring beauties looking like grass and trout lilies barely distinguishable from soil. But soon, soon... we're behind this year. Hepatica flowered on April 2 last year, and I still haven't seen even the leaves of mayapple or bloodroot poking through the soil (which were also noted on April 2 last year). I hope this isn't because mine are dead! But I feel like every year, I think they've died and every year they do eventually show up. Fingers crossed...

In the garden, carrots are planted now, and almost our entire front yard is covered in cardboard meant to smother the turf grass. We're putting in another native garden. Best, I still had time to sit outside and read lazily before the clouds rolled in and the winds became annoyingly strong a few minutes ago. I think I just heard thunder. Perhaps time to go close all the windows and doors? (I guess that's the beginning of the cold front, as today's 85 degree high is supposed to be followed by the 50's tomorrow.)

"It's Like We're In the Arctic. Naked!"

2011-04-08T12:07:00.000-05:00

This is how a kindergarten student described the weather this morning. Admittedly, this is a major case of hyperbole... or perhaps just a lack of understanding of how cold the arctic really is... but it was a rather chilly morning. Plus, it was raining. Which means that all the kids are wearing their rain coats and rain boots to stay dry, neither of which have any insulation at all.

It was also the first worms-come-onto-the-sidewalk-because-the-soil-is-saturated day of 2011.

Sandhill Cranes

2011-04-07T17:35:00.000-05:00

Baby Pictures and Other Updates

2011-04-06T16:46:00.002-05:00

Spring marches on, and here are some of the floats at the parade today...

Some buds are starting to do more than just swell, they're turning green and scales are splitting. Above, serviceberry (left) and lilac.

Some plants are popping up green shoots, like the rattlesnake master babies shown on the left. And early flower-ers are getting ready. Shown here, prairie smoke buds (photo taken on 4/3) show their pink color. Pasqueflower buds are brown and fuzzy and I'm keeping an eye upon them.

It is a good time for hazels of all sorts. Here is an American hazel twig with its catkins (male flowers) swollen and enlarged, almost blooming. Two tiny female flowers are also visible in the background. Meanwhile, witch hazel is in full bloom, and the bushes are surrounded by a cloud of perfume... a sticky sweet scent that almost makes me dizzy. Sigh... the internet is good, but there are some things you still have to experience in person...

I found this egg shell today which we believe to be a mourning dove egg based on size, color, and timing. It wasn't especially near a nest of any sort (that I could find).
And finally... our first daffodils! These are extremely precocious, as it were... most are about 6 inches tall with no hint of flowers opening yet. Some are significantly shorter depending on sun/soil conditions. These blooming ones are right next to a building, which perhaps provides them with heat? (My uncle, 30 miles south, within an urban heat bubble, and steps from the shore of Lake Michigan, reported seeing daffodils over the weekend. My dad, in England... so thousands of miles to the east, quite a bit north, and under the influence of some ocean currents that obviously don't bless us here... sent pictures of daffodils over a month ago!)

Ticks Reported Today

2011-04-05T17:03:00.000-05:00

Between Scilla and Charybdis

2011-04-03T10:21:00.003-05:00

We're not between a sea monster and a whirlpool, but somewhere between cold and warm; we're in the brown between the white and the green. In this time of anticipation, caught between winter and spring, come the scilla.

In garden news, I planted peas and spinach yesterday... carrots next weekend. The garden looks... hopeful. Empty, but that also means weed-free, with trellises waiting for the weight of vines to grab at them. The beds are so flat and rich brown and perfect. In the basement, tiny tomatoes (and friends), barely two inches tall and basking in grow light, wait for the time, 6 weeks hence, when they can sink their roots into the soil, too.

In the native world, early bloomers, like spiderwort, Jacob's ladder, golden Alexander are poking up through the dead remains of last year's plants, 2-3 inches tall...

Crocus

2011-04-01T08:30:00.000-05:00

Returning to Illinois, it almost seems as though spring has stalled, the weather still cold. But the crocuses were up, reminding me that it IS spring and it WILL get warm!

Georgia on my Mind

2011-03-31T09:48:00.002-05:00

Earlier this week, we flew south, like confused birds, to get an early taste of spring on the Georgia coast. I had actually hoped for more of an early taste of summer... last week, I followed the weather and it was in the upper 70's and lower 80's in Savannah. What a treat that would be after a late March in Illinois that just wouldn't seem to get out of the 30's, at least not for long. Well, we arrived in Savannah at about the same time as a cold front, headed up by torrential downpours. Driving unfamiliar roads in an unfamiliar car isn't fun, but it gets even worse when your visibility is about 5 feet and roads are closed due to flooding, but detours aren't marked. But even so... it was green and it smelled fresh and new.

When we got to the b and b where we were staying, guests on their way out told us of the perfect weather they'd had, assured us that we'd have the same. We didn't. That night, it stormed spectacularly, causing a power outage on the entire island... but it stopped by morning and we had rain-free days. But not warm ones. It stayed in the 50's -- the low 50's a lot of the time -- and we didn't see even a glimpse of the sun the entire time we were there.

Still... the weather couldn't stop us from enjoying the southland in the springtime.

The live oaks spread their branches over streets and walkways, creating tunnels. Epiphytic Spanish moss hangs down, creating a fairy tale atmosphere.

Everywhere trees are flowering, leaves emerged but still lime green and new, thin and almost translucent.
The last to leaf out, even this oak has tiny leaves...

While we weren't able to lounge on the beach, we did explore the beach and, at low tide, made several discoveries:
Lettered olives, alive and shiny... we also found a few empty shells.

Sea stars...

Jellyfish, most dead and washed up, but this comb jelly still alive and trapped, momentarily, in a pool. (The jellyfish is the blurry blob to the left and just below the broken sand dollar.)

A crab exoskeleton, perfect and unbroken, next to some of the plentiful clam shells.

A huge piece of horseshoe crab...

And plenty of other shells and treasures.

We also saw a lot of shore birds, laughing gulls and several small varieties of waders and pelicans.

I carried my nature journal but it really wasn't warm enough for sitting outside and drawing to be pleasant. Until... you guessed it... the morning we had to leave! So I did get in a quick drawing, of the tree whose leaves were hanging right over our balcony, since I didn't have the time to go anywhere or look for something exciting and Georgia-y, or we'd miss our plane (which ended up leaving 2 hours late, so I guess that wasn't a real issue, but whatever).

I thought is was a hackberry, but apparently I was too far south and it was probably a sugarberry, which is a lot like a hackberry.

In Mourning

2011-03-24T11:53:00.002-05:00

This dove sits on a nest that was once occupied by robins. Although mourning doves do make their own nests, they will also reuse their own or other birds' prior constructions... hey, why not take advantage? This particular site is very protected and watched over by a class of kindergarten kids, which may stress out the dove, but doesn't hurt, as no kindergarteners are 8 feet tall. If this dove is sitting on eggs, they'll hatch within 2 weeks... and this process could happen 3-4 times over the course of the spring and summer. This nesting dove is probably pretty bummed that his (the male doves sit on the nests during the daytime, and females work the graveyard shifts) view looks something like this:

Keep those eggs warm and toasty, little guy! (Really, though, if this is our spring snow storm, we can't complain too much, can we. It's typical to get a big snowfall in spring when the daffodils have bloomed already... which they have not, as you can see -- there are some right below the tree in the photo.)

Spring Takes a Break

2011-03-23T16:26:00.001-05:00

It is, at this moment, snowing.

(That's all I've got for you.)

A-choo!

2011-03-23T07:20:00.000-05:00

The weather may not know it's spring... this week is finishing up with cold rain, probably turning to snow as the temperatures continue to drop.

The plants may not look particularly springy except to those who are inclined to look for tiny, subtle changes...

But my face sure seems to know it's spring! Itchy eyes, sneezing and runny nose. There must be pollen in the air! That, or I'm coming down with a cold just in time for break, which would make me grumpy. I'm thinking it's allergies, though.

Tour de Spring

2011-03-21T16:08:00.005-05:00

This time of year, I have a little route that I walk to check on the trees/shrubs that I know are going to do things soon. Today was an eventful day on my tour de spring. Before I even got to my first tree, I heard the distinctive, comb-plucking sound of chorus frogs chorusing. Yea! Froggies!

The silver maple (above) was flowering. They flower from the top down, and it was over the weekend I noticed the top flowers in bloom, but I can't reach those to photograph, or even confirm. But by today, the lower buds had started to open, as well.

Then I check the American hazels, whose girl-flowers are so tiny most people would never notice them. (Notice the size of my fingers behind them). Their bright pink color is a treat, though, if you're one of the folks inclined to look closely. They were just starting today, only some of them... and the catkins aren't even swelling at all yet.

Finally, I check the alders, which have excitement in both the girl-flower and the boy-flower world. The catkins, as you can see to the left, are even greener than last week, and left a chartreuse pollen print on my brown jacket... though they're not yet pollen-y enough to make yellow clouds when tapped.

And the tiny pink female flowers, the future cones, have also changed since last week. (Oh, the trees, they are a-changin'... never mind, I shouldn't have gone there.)

My add-on at 5:00 pm...

In the bird world, I saw buffleheads... which is the best duck name ever... and possibly some other diving ducks that were too far away to ID (but, they could have been more buffles). Had to pull a crazy driving maneuver and get out of the car to get pictures. And this is the pair of birds that are apparently nesting in my neighbor's house. Which I think is totally awesome, but only because it isn't my house. I probably shouldn't have posted a picture of someone else's house, but it's so cute, and it's not like you can tell the address, and I'm pretty sure they don't read my blog. Bird nerds, please ID the birdies for me!

I love it, every day something new!!! Finally! (Although I hear that tomorrow's new development may be wintry weather, too bad after a lovely today!)

Vernal Equinox

2011-03-20T10:06:00.002-05:00

It may be a rainy and chilly day, but today we welcome the sun back to the northern hemisphere. We look forward to leaves emerging, casting a chartreuse haze on the horizon. We look forward to flowers blooming and the prairie greening. We look forward to days that stretch into evening, sweating in the garden and then reclining on the deck as the light grows dim, to open windows and the free toes of sandals. OK, so it may yet be WAY forward that we're looking... but it is, as they say, all down hill from here.

At 6:21 this evening, we celebrate the vernal equinox, and we welcome the sun, the source of energy for all living things, back to our half of the world.

Ice Off

2011-03-18T07:15:00.003-05:00

Ice is completely off this morning... this happened sometime between early yesterday afternoon and early this morning, but I'm going to go ahead and call it for today. Why? Here's some historical perspective.

Ice Off dates:

2006 -- Mar 10

2007 -- Mar 18

2008 -- Mar 31

2009 -- Mar 9

2010 -- Mar 18

So if 2011 is also Mar 18, that's just pretty crazy random...50% of all my ice off data points are Mar 18!

I saw a muskrat swimming in the lake, too.

Also, I finally saw a heron, though I know they've been around...

Party On!

2011-03-17T12:27:00.003-05:00

Nature is throwing a party to celebrate our warm weather... Migrating sandhill cranes sent out the invitations, their loud calls catching everyone's attention, alerting us that today is something special.

The witch hazel flowers were on the decorating committee -- their orange streamer petals are flying!

The alders? They are starting to put their green on. It is St. Patty's day, after all... the party needs to have some green, and the grass sure ain't wearing it yet!

Ice status: it's at about 40% coverage. Maybe even less. It's so windy that that the remaining ice is blowing up against the shore and cracking there, sheets upon sheets. Standing next to it, I hear the clink-clinking sound of ice knocking against other ice... like spring cocktail party in full swing!

(Did I take the metaphor too far?)

I've Got the Fever

2011-03-16T18:41:00.004-05:00

Spring came! With temperatures topping 60 today, we finally had one of those early warm days that makes you really feel like it's over, we're on our way out, Spring has Spring! Inevitably, these days come before a huge snow storm or something... but while it was here, I took full advantage. I walked at lunch, I walked after work. (The later was, ostensibly, for fitness. I walked instead of working out, which was my original plan. The problem with this is, I stop to look at things. I could somewhat alleviate this problem by not carrying my camera -- thereby also ensuring that I saw "the coolest thing ever" -- but not entirely. I'd still stop to study and admire things.) So anyhow... here are some of the discoveries, both phenologically significant and not:

Aspen catkins.

Bulb plants emerge, here, hyacinths.

The lake was filled with ducks (and geese and swans). I think these are goldeneyes based on the white cheek spot in the right photo... but I didn't have binocs and I'm not that great of a birder anyhow -- it's possible there were 5 types of ducks there rather than just 2 (the other being mallard). Note: That open water isn't on the same lake I always use to determine ice off, which is still covered. Have to remain consistent!

A maze of goose prints... they just looked cool.

And a maze of vole tunnels, with a little, igloo-esque house! The snow melted and they left it abandoned, a vole ghost town.

The moon and a redtail.

So many birds today... Cardinals calling constantly for the last week, robins galore, killdeer, a bunch of LBBs, and plenty of these RWBBs. I just chose to include the photo because it was a good picture.

Finally, this is today's mystery. If anyone knows this plant, please tell me what it is... These seedpods (2 inches long) were painfully thorny and stiff, filled with hard black seeds about 2-1/8 inch in diameter. The plant itself was about 2-3 feet tall with a thick stem and no leaves to be found. It branched in a pattern that reminded me of the flower heads on wild indigo.

I also sketched the mystery pod. But it had a lot of thorns and I kinda got tired of them...

Little Peeks

2011-03-14T16:03:00.002-05:00

Peeking out from behind its protective bud scale, that tickly reminder of youth, the pussy willow, emerges... calling our tactile inner children to stand and pet the fuzzy little cat(kin) toes before they fulfill their pollen-y destiny.

Which hazel? The witch hazel! I just couldn't wait until these fully opened, with their streamer-like petals fully uncurled, decorating for the upcoming party that is spring. So I have showed them here still curled up tightly... but the buds are open and the bright orange is clearly visible!

Well, this isn't really a good picture of anything. But see, right in the middle, looking like a stick at an odd angle, that's a hawk. Carrying a vole. We had a right-time-right-place moment this afternoon. A red-tailed hawk swooped down to pick off a vole in the prairie right near our outdoor classroom. We watched it fly with the struggling rodent dangling from its talons... it circled around us and then off into the distance, presumably to eat its meal without 44 eyes staring at it. (I didn't get my camera out until after I made sure all the kids had seen, and then I had to get over the awesomeness of it, and then I had to think to unzip my coat and get out the camera and turn it on and by the time all that occurred, it was already pretty far away. Oh, well. I took a mental picture.)

Thoughts on March 11

2011-03-11T16:35:00.001-06:00

Each year on March 11, I try to write something... good and deep (but not obnoxious) and worthy. I started thinking about it earlier in the week, perhaps that was my mistake. I didn't come up with much, but I didn't worry too much. I figured that the day would come and something would happen. Some sign, something almost spiritual even though I don't really believe that way. Open water on the lakes... but there's more ice cover today than yesterday (the rivers are open -- and very high -- but have been for weeks). A heron returned (which won't happen without the open water first) or maybe a V of sandhills interrupting time with their calls. The first uncharacteristically warm, sunny day that calls everyone out of doors after a winter inside. Even a witch hazel flower.

I didn't get any of it, except for sun. It is a lovely, dazzlingly bright, late winter day with nothing to separate it from another except our thoughts and our memories. And I find I have everything to write about, which really means I have nothing to about. (I tell kids that... if you say "everything" was your favorite part, you don't really have a favorite part. I suppose it's not the same with writing, but it feels like it is.) Luckily, my mom rescued me with some thoughts of her own... so I'll allow myself a year off. Plus, stressing out about it doesn't really seem a fitting tribute.

Here are my mom's thoughts on March 11:

"It’s in the mid-40’s here today – a far cry from the warmth of this day four years ago – but the sun is shining brightly, a rare phenomenon during the past several months. Though the snow has only recently melted from the drifts that surrounded the memorial tree and stone, last year’s crop of crab apples is withering and new leaf buds are emerging. It is a day when one’s thoughts could easily turn to spring and spring activities, to canoeing and canoeists.

"The lagoons are still ice covered; the river is clear. The two small streams entering the river below the dam are running rapidly. Together with the water coming through the dam, they make a swirl of currents that could easily daunt even the most experienced boatman. Two hardy fishermen were casting into the eddies this morning. They did not think they were commemorating a life-altering event or memorializing a life-altering personality. However, their life-affirming optimism was a testament to Grandpa’s equally life-affirming and optimistic nature.

"It is one of the first days of the year when one dare think that winter’s gloom might be past. It is a day when one’s heart can soar with the memories of joys of the past and hope for the future. I join you all in remembering how lucky we are to have been part of Stanton’s life."

Snow Drops

2011-03-10T19:29:00.000-06:00

(Probably missed them at first, but it's not everyday I get home while it's still light out! Until next week, with daylight savings time... then I will be. But this week, FINALLY, it's been almost light out when I woke up. Almost, like, you could at least tell it was getting on morning, and by the time I got out of the shower the sky was actually lightening... and that will be taken away, going back to waking up in the middle of the night. Oh, well...)

Red Flagged

2011-03-10T07:23:00.002-06:00

The ice safety flag switched sometime between school yesterday and this morning. It's now red indicating not safe to walk on ice. I have to say, I kinda think that people who wanted to walk on the ice yesterday were already... well, on thin ice. (See picture from yesterday's post, from the same lake.)

Misty Morning

2011-03-09T11:38:00.003-06:00

This morning was subtly lovely, in that understated Midwestern way of hedgerows disappearing into mist... bare skeletons of trees reaching their bony fingers toward the sky, holding up the red-wing blackbirds... fat water droplets clinging to berries and branches, reflecting tiny, distorted worlds in their bubbles... surprise bursts of color in a red twig or a curl of yellow grass or a colony of lichens whose muted hues seem amplified by the wetness... the loud silence of chattering birds and human absence... ice that's melting and mud that's squishing under my feet...

Bird Brained

2011-03-06T11:48:00.004-06:00

Saw a killdeer today. Of course, not being a birder, if I saw one yesterday, they've probably been here at least a week. Have I ever told you the story of the first time I (knowingly) saw a killdeer? I'm sure I'm not the only one out there with a similar story... I was just a budding nature nerd of middle school age, and a naturalist entered the nature center where I was taking a class all excited because there was a killdeer, and we just had to come out back and see. Of course, teachable moment, we abandoned whatever we were doing to go outside and see the killdeer. Which I though was going to be a dead deer. Possibly, with all the excitement, a freshly dead one with, like, coyote tracks around it, and its guts dragged across the ground or something. This is what I was looking for as the naturalist pointed to what appeared to be an empty lawn and proudly presented the finding. A "who's on first" style conversation occurred before I figured out that a killdeer and a deer kill were two very different things, and I decided to pretend I knew what the heck was going on. Embarrassed, I privately looked up the killdeer later on. It's plover-esque appearance and "kill dear" voice are unmistakable to me today.

Also saw a blue jay (year-round residents, but certainly seen more in the warmer months) and a redtail, all within minutes of each other. This reminds me of a not-too-funny but containing-important-message comic that we saw at a session of the Wild Things conference. Reluctantly, I have pasted the cartoon below. I say reluctantly because I don't know the rules about putting things like that on my blog. As a general rule, every image I use on here is my own, and if I want to use another, I'll put a weblink to someone else's page. But I couldn't find one for this, and describing a comicstrip does kind of lose something in translation, and really, I don't think I have enough readers to attract a law suit. Knock wood.

Kinda cute. Although it was a Chicago Wilderness conference, the presenter was using the comic as a lesson about the (over-)analysis of poetry (bird poetry, to be sure) rather than as a lesson about the analysis of phenological events. But of course, it works both ways. The hawk need be no less special to see just because it lives here year round and I saw one just last week. Only the small minded think they can see something once, check it off a metaphorical list, and be done with it.

Anyhow, I'm keeping my eyes peeled for herons, but haven't seen one yet. Of course, there's not a lot of open water yet, either; perhaps I need to be looking by the river instead of the yet-frozen lakes.

It's Ominous Outside

2011-03-04T15:28:00.002-06:00

It's rumbling and thundering and dark as night out there. Pregnant raindrops splatter against my window.

Tomorrow, we go to the Chicago Wilderness Wild Things Conference... a big bunch of nature nerds hanging out together!

Aerial Acrobatics

2011-03-02T07:28:00.000-06:00

Chickadees are crazy this morning. A whole flock of them seems to be darting from tree to shrub to tree, ducking over and under branches, darting in and out. Occasionally two break away and chase each other, a little airborne wrestling match, before rejoining the general commotion.

It is my understanding that this is not mating behavior, but maybe the break up of winter flocks. The wrestling matches are probably males having scuffles with each other as the chickadees find their mates and break away from their protective winter flocks to spend their summers in a more solitary fashion. Or rather, as couples rather than in the large winter group. Territorial fighting, of a sort, I guess. So maybe still a sign of spring...

That, and the weather... still cold, but a mild, gentle sort of cold as winter gives up its icy grasp. And the mud! Everywhere there is mud, and every little boot seems to be attracted to it like a powerful magnet.

The Signs are Starting!

2011-02-24T11:34:00.002-06:00

I just love setting up for my classes in the morning. I get to go out, alone, which I really don't have time to do before work and [honestly] may not be motivated to do if I didn't have work. I experience the morning while hanging signs or leaving props in their places for later. It starts out as a pain, I'll admit... it makes my morning rather rushed... but once I get bundled up and get out there, it seems like every morning something wonderful happens.

Today, I brought my camera. I know... before I was all about my larger moment with the universe... but forget that. I want evidence. I was keeping an eye out for my bluebird friends. I didn't see them, but that's OK. Besides my daily chickadee and crow companions, this morning I also saw a robin -- the former harbinger of spring -- and a red wing blackbird -- a more accurate harbinger of spring.

This is he in the tree top. The visual may have been somewhat distant and not great, but the audio was crystal clear. I heard his call before I spotted him, a tiny bit... out of place on a cold day in the snow, perhaps... usually the first one is on one of those anomalously warm and sunny days... but there it was. (A friend reported seeing one on Tuesday, I believe, but this morning was my first. And second and third. When they come out to play, they really come out to play!)

Last night's dusting of snow (or sleet, more accurately) left quite a story to read in the morning. It's always just crazy to me to see how many animals are out and about in the night, and where they've gone... this morning I was on the same path as a skunk for most of my route... I must've stepped over the trail 10 times.

Skunk prints.

The skunk crossed paths with a coyote (actually, several)...

...and some squirrels...

And just to complete the circle, the coyotes also crossed paths with the squirrels, though clearly not actually at the same time. I also saw vole tracks out there. All these in 20 minutes and within a couple hundred yards of the school! It was a good morning...

Feeling Blue?

2011-02-22T11:47:00.000-06:00

I guess I need to start remembering to carry my camera again. Last week, among other things, I missed the most perfect raccoon tracks and some spectacular ice formations. This morning... this morning...

I was out setting up, alone, my tracks the first ones in the thin blanket of freshly fallen -- falling, really -- snow. Though there's not much of it, the new snow is lovely, gently falling, large crystalline flakes. Like the blanket in the snow metaphor that has become cliche, the snow seemed to muffle sounds. It was a peaceful morning. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of movement in a tree. I assumed, when I looked up, that I would see one of the chickadees whose spunky black caps and mournful two-note calls have accompanied me on my morning journeys for the past few weeks. This, though common, would have made me happy. I love my chickadee companions, respect the way they bravely take on winter. But this time, it wasn't them.

Perched not 15 feet away from me were a woodpecker and four bluebirds. Yes, four. Two males, a striking blue, unmistakably bright, with rust colored sides and white bellies, were accompanied by two females dressed in more muted tones. We shares a moment, these four and I, when all of us stopped our actions and just looked at each other. They weren't scared, didn't fly, just sat there, slightly puffy, trying to take in this new creature that wandered into the area. I was close enough that if I'd had my point-and-shoot camera, I could have taken a photo that would have looked like more than just dots in branches... but I didn't. Perhaps this is the universe's way of reminding me that these are special moments meant only for those who are lucky enough to be there, in the perfect time and place, to have them.

Meanwhile, the little downy woodpecker didn't even bother to notice me or the bluebirds in his tree...

Eventually I had to move on, and the bluebirds flew with me for a short while, stopping at trees just ahead of me but not letting me pass. When I turned, they stayed, and I continued my set-up, joined by some chickadees.

(You will note on the range map that the Eastern Bluebird does not spend the winter in northern Illinois. A sign of spring? And another sign of spring... this is the time of year, every year, when I notice the flowers buds of maples (silver, especially) swelling to huge red orbs, and I wonder, were they like that all winter but I wasn't paying attention until now, when I start to look for spring? Or have they really enlarged?)

Ice Skating, Anyone?

2011-02-21T07:22:00.000-06:00

(Ok, that's all I really had to say...)

WE'RE MELTING!...

2011-02-14T07:28:00.002-06:00

(You all know how to read that, right?)

Sadness. It hit 50 yesterday, I think.

Valentine's Day promises to be drippy and wet, muddy and dirty. There's still a lot of snow in a lot of places (since there was so much of it) but a lot of it is looking brown. Places where there were valleys (as opposed to drifts), I see grass...

Are We There Yet?

2011-02-10T11:42:00.000-06:00

This morning, kept inside by the brutally cold weather, I read the book I'm in Charge of Celebrations by Byrd Baylor/Peter Parnall with my kindergarten students. (Interesting... I obviously recognize the importance of using children's literature, and I love reading myself... but I only see each of my classes once a week, for 60 or 90 minutes. And I want to get the small people outside (also the Naomi outside). And I'm not a reading teacher. So I don't use that much children's literature in my classes... maybe 10 books per year over all the grades. And a really high percentage of them are Baylor/Parnall books. I have used at least 4 so far this year. Their style -- both writing and drawing, just really appeals to me.) Do you all like my nested parentheses? I write like I think... which is, apparently, randomly.

Anyhow. If you're not familiar with the book, it's about a girl who creates her own holidays based on the spectacular things she gets to witness in nature. Written long before Last Child in the Woods, the narrator points out more than once that if she were inside, instead of going outside in her free time, she would have missed all those things, and she must be the luckiest person...

After reading the book, each student creates their own "nature celebration" -- some really memorable thing that they experienced in nature that they "plan to remember the rest of [their] life," as the book says. Kids come up with all sorts of things... from Snow Drift Day that just happened last week to Rock Collecting Day that clearly occurred in the summer sometime (based on the illustration), things they saw in their back yard (Opossum Day) to things they saw on vacation somewhere distant (Giant Wave Day).

A few kids always get stuck (they're kindergarteners, after all) and need to be coached to think of things to celebrate, and today, that conversation nearly transported me. "Do you remember a time when you saw the first spring flower, maybe? Or got really close to an animal?"

And, all of a sudden, in my head... it's last spring, First Dragonfly Day. A favorite day of mine because I love dragonflies so, and miss watching them terribly during the winter months. In a stuffy classroom on a frigid day, I can feel the warmth on my face. I squint my eyes to protect them from the sun sparkling on the pond water. And I watch the green darner swoop, turning and gliding, close to me and then away again. I lose it in the cattails, search, find it again as it darts about. It is huge (for an insect, I mean) and colorful. Time stops in that moment... whatever I was doing, wherever I was going, doesn't matter anymore.

Too often I'm focused on getting things done, checked off, moving on to the next thing, making each class work and getting my schedule to work with 25 other teachers' schedules. I celebrate that while I can be a very focused person, I can also get sidetracked from my focus by a soaring odonate... a flock of chickadees whistling through the still winter air... a fortunate argiope wrapping up a rather unlucky grasshopper... a perfect squirrel track... and a million other extraordinary everyday things that I am lucky enough to run into.

That's the optimistic take-home lesson. The less positive version? I have loved this snowfall. A week later, the world still seems magical and new and fresh and exciting, especially after 2 months of mostly snow-free coldness. But I, despite my upper-Midwest history including 5 Minnesota winters, am not as big a fan of winter as I feel like I should be... or as I used to be... or as I used to pretend, even to myself, that I was.

I hate having to wear multiple layers each day, and feeling constrained and puffy. I don't enjoy being boiling hot in indoor spaces that are heated to feel like summer. (Granted, this happens with over-air conditioning in the summer, but it's a lot easier to carry a long sleeved shirt to put on indoors than to get my long underwear off from under my clothing.) I am inconvenienced by having to spend 10 minutes getting ready to go outside. I feel oppressed by waking up in the dark and eating dinner in the dark. And I just miss the delicate veins of leaves, the pools of color in flower petals, the soaring dragonflies.

I definitely feel the need for at least some winter. I lived for a year in southern Georgia where it never froze and there was green algae growing all over my car, which didn't live in a garage and which I didn't wash (very often. There was this one time, when I went to a carwash, but one of our cats had decided to nap in the warmth of my car, unbeknown to me... and he freaked out like I have never seen a cat freak out before or since, and did some damage to the interior of my car and probably his shaky cat sanity. But that's another story for another time). Anyhow... The palmetto bugs -- which is just a code for native roach -- got huge and crawled everywhere. And in general, nature seemed inhospitable in the more temperate climate... there were all manner of poisonous, biting, stinging things that can't survive a cold winter, and that seemed to never die and nested in very inconvenient places. Here I am referring mostly to the large black spiders that kept crawling out of the air vents in my car. So I want a good killing frost. (Or alternately, a car-free life.) More than that, even. I like how a good long snow cover erases my failures to trim back the garden. Winter wipes away the old and allows for spring to feel like renewal...

But people, I am ready for spring.

A Whole New World

2011-02-03T20:11:00.004-06:00

I'm back with my Blizzard of 2011 Saga...

So. Tuesday night, after an early release from school due to the catastrophic blizzard warning that began at 3 pm, just in time to really mess with afternoon carpool, I kept looking out the window at the car in the driveway to gauge how much snow had fallen since the start of the warning. Hour after hour, snow churned in the wind, blowing almost sideways, but none seemed to be landing... the car had less than an inch on it. Finally, I went out to shovel before bedtime, anyhow, figuring... if the predictions were correct... I'd want a fresh start in the morning.

I had waited entirely too long. I hadn't accounted for the blowing and drifting that kept the snow from landing on the top of the cars and roofs. I had well over six inches to shovel, as task at which I persisted for an hour before help came out and we made short work of the bottom (and easiest) portion of the driveway. By that time, by the way, the top of the driveway already had about 2 additional inches of snow on it. I couldn't bear the thought of starting over at the top of the driveway, where the wind was coming in from over the roof and then circling down and around, like a perfect surfing wave, blowing snow up in my face. Totally tubular, dude. But this is all my way of telling you that my shoulders were already a bit sore, the skin on my palms a bit red, when I came downstairs Wednesday morning.

School had been cancelled the day before, so we set no alarm. I awoke with the sun around 7, which is quite a bit later than my normal weekday schedule, and went downstairs to find a changed world. I opened the garage door to find a wall of snow with a perfect garage door print in it. Donning all my winter gear -- which does not include snowshoes, because usually they aren't necessary here -- I climbed through the snow barrier and emerged alone into the still-falling snow. No one else in the neighborhood, human or otherwise, had ventured out yet.

The depth of the snow varied from a foot in some places to drifts taller than me in others. Above, our snow gauge, which I believe has numbers up to 2 feet, is covered almost to its top numbers. (Today, just due to compaction, it's already a few inches lower.)

The wind had sculpted some amazing features into the ephemeral white landscape... fins and twists, hills and valleys... it was... is... magical, beautiful, transforming. Clean and sparkling, it was like an empty canvas when I first ventured out. So lovely and inviting.

Until, that is, you realize that you are in charge of shoveling it. Then it becomes somewhat of a pain in the... shoulders, arms, and lower back. I spent an hour digging out one trail from the garage to the street, just the width of a snow shovel . An aisle to freedom. And then, "rest," cried the chief shoveler. And I took a break.

During my rest, I discovered that our heater was not actually producing any heat. Um... Sucky any time, really sucky when no one can get in or out AND the predictions for the following night were sub-zero. Turns out, the pipes to the outside world where the heater gets and releases air were underneath the lovely snow sculpture shown below. My husband put on his snow gear, which does include snowshoes, and proceeded to dig out the 6-foot drift that blocked the pipes. The heater works again, thanks to him, and only at the cost of one screen... a small price to pay for heat in the weather we're having!

Heat functioning, I went back out for shovelfest: round 2, over an hour of excavating, but the problem was, there were no places left to move the snow to. The piles on the sides of my driveway were taller than I, and definitely taller than I could continue to lift snow. I watched as neighbors emerged, everyone digging, stopping to chat and watch the kids and dogs creating a snow playground out of the 15-foot pile that the plows had left in the cul de sac center, and then resuming the toil. Other people pulled out snowblowers after they had made escape routes, but we have always liked the scrape of the shovel, the exercise, the rhythm, the accomplishment of manual snow removal. My parents passed on their old snowblower to us years ago, but it's broken and we never bothered to fix it to a state functionality. (Oops. Lesson learned, sort of.)

At any rate, round 2 got frustrating. Feeling a burn with every load of snow removed, it seemed like I was getting no where. I would be at this all day and never get a swath wide enough to get the car out by school the next day. (At this point, I still believed there would be school the next day, today.) Eventually, help arrived and, once again, the shoveling was finished in somewhat short order. Well, it did take a while to deal with my dad's car, which we sort of got stuck in a snowbank due to our trying to carve the narrowest path possible for it to curve out of, backwards. But it wasn't stuck too badly and we got it out, no harm done, in case he's reading this.

And then, we had a day and a half left to enjoy the winter wonderland. Or to cuddle on the couch with a book.

So this storm? Not a bust. As my young neighbor friend put it as he jumped off the top of the snow structure, (yes, onto the pavement) "BEST SNOW DAY EVER!!!" I find myself hoping more will fall. I like holing up. I like the quiet. I like the admission -- by me and everyone -- that nature has out-powered our technology and our whims and we're changing plans and staying in. I like the adventure...)

I should mention, my husband is not normally the type to allow me to toil away alone for hours on end at something like snow shoveling, but he, like many at our school, caught a bug that sort of knocked him out.
OK, must go drink the last how cocoa before the single work day tomorrow (and then, it's the weekend! Crazy!)

It's Really Winter Now

2011-01-21T07:27:00.001-06:00

Below zero temps. Wind chill advisories. BRRRR.

Tracks and Trails

2011-01-18T16:02:00.000-06:00

Last week, tracking was pretty good. The show was deep enough for good tracks, not so deep or powdery that the animals kicked snow in their wake and covered their feet features. But I really didn't think today would be that great. See, yesterday, it snowed... which we needed... the snow from the week before was fast a-meltin'... but then the snow turned to rain. It rained most of the afternoon and evening. This meant that the snow was all covered in an ice crust. It also meant that the weather was, not to put too fine a point on it, crappy. I figured, if I was an animal, I would hope I had enough in my cache that I could curl up on my warm den/bed/nest or whatever and not come out. Or, to be more accurate, I am an animal and if I had enough cash I would have stayed in my warm home and waited until it was nicer. Perhaps late March.

Turns out, I was wrong. Either no one had enough put away, or wet cold isn't a deterrent for the rest of them... we say coyote, rabbit, vole, and skunk tracks without leaving the school grounds. Also some tracks that I wasn't too sure of because they had filled in with ice but actually did NOT look like any of the above in terms of stride. And not just one of each, there were places where it looked like there was a canine convention out there. (No human tracks around. Well, previously. Now there are 22 sets if human tracks.) Birds are out, too, but they don't sink into the snow even if they land upon it right now. I guess it was a pretty good day once I got over myself and got out there... There's a lesson in that, somewhere...

Let it Snow!

2011-01-11T16:12:00.000-06:00

It's snowing, snowing snowing...

this winter we've heard on the news about snowfalls everywhere... even the south seems to have more snow than us... School is cancelled below the Mason-Dixon line, and our ground is bare! So, we have a covering now. Not enough for a school cancellation (not that much by anyone's standards) but enough to cover the ground, at least.

Happy day for voles... I think of them often on cold, non-snowy days.

Yellow Bellied

2011-01-03T19:31:00.001-06:00

The lake has a yellow flag. I've never seen such a thing, and I'm not entirely sure how to interpret it. To fill you in, across the street from school, there is a flagpole. Underneath the American flag, they fly a colored flag that is meant to communicate the status of the ice vis a vis walking safely upon it. The system is simple... red flag = Stop! Danger, ice not thick enough to safely support you! Green flag = Go. For the past 7 years, those were the choices... and now, all of a sudden, yellow. Proceed with caution, if we continue with the obvious traffic signal parallel. So is that... Feel free to walk on it, but we won't be held responsible if you break through and sink into the frigid waters below, succumbing to the calm of cold as you wish you had exercised more caution at the "proceed with caution" color? Only certain parts of the lake are safe? (Which parts?) We were too lazy to go out and measure the thickness, so we're letting you guess? Things are changing so fast... what with the 55 degree day on New Year's Eve followed by a 22 degree day on New Year's day... that we don't even know what's going on with the ice from minute to minute? I don't know... yellow is my favorite color, most of the time, but this is not a place where I want to see yellow.

Personally, I will be staying off the ice unless the following conditions are met:

1. Green flag, for at least a few days.

2. Very cold weather, so there's no water on top of the ice.

Travelling on ice is not something I did as a kid. I mean, we skated. Quite a lot, when I was young. But we skated indoors, generally, and if not, on ice rinks that were not lakes the rest of the year, but fields flooded for that purpose.

The first time I went on a frozen lake, I was already 23, and we were learning to teach frozen lake ecology at Wolf Ridge, where I did a naturalist internship. We walked down to the lake and got to the edge and everyone else followed right on but I stopped at the edge, a statue paralyzed with fear. Yeah, I saw the truck out there. And the little "house" (if you will). But still. Lakes are not meant to be walked upon. I did go out, after a little coaxing, but for the entire (long, cold, Minnesota) winter, I had to swallow my fear when I taught that class, or had to snowshoe across the lake.

The very worst days were the relatively warm, sunny ones, when a layer of water would from on top of the ice. This was terribly disconcerting. The ice was 15 inches thick under the water, and crystal clear with integrity and strength... but no matter. Snowshoes would get clumps of ice frozen to them and if you slipped, you became uncomfortably wet, and... ugh. Or when there was cracking. The ice would sometimes creak and crack. Again, They assured me that 15 inches of ice would hold even with a crack (or 10, or 8 inches). The ice was floating and a crack wouldn't stop that, and the sheet covered the entire body of water so it's not like the two pieces of ice could split even if there was a crack all the way through, which there actually wasn't. But I didn't care. When the ice moans and groans, it's not because it's welcoming your weight.

All that is to say... I am not afraid to go on the ice (anymore) when I know it's safe. But I don't play around with maybes. Shiver. I don't even like imagining it...

What a Night

2010-12-22T17:13:00.004-06:00

Yesterday was the winter solstice, and a full moon (although it was cloudy). I suppose those two correspond with way less frequency than "once in a blue moon." In fact, it's been over 10 years. Even more significant, there was also a lunar eclipse in the very early hours of the 21st, but the clouds, at least in this area, would have made it hard to see, were one awake and healthy enough to try. I, personally, was not... I have spent my winter break thus far being terrible ill... I'm getting better now... I missed another disappointing snowfall (less than 2 inches for us), and the shortest day of the year along with its once-in-a-lifetime eclipse (or once in several, as the last coincidence of an eclipse and the solstice was 632 years ago). I understand the eclipse was lovely in areas where the sky was clear...

Ah, well... next time?

Brrrr.

2010-12-15T07:15:00.001-06:00

A beautiful frost on another c-c-cold morning.

Let it Snow!

2010-12-05T10:05:00.001-06:00

Just under 3 inches on the snow-meter, but I think it was more in a lot of places (depending on wind). Enough to be lovely, but not enough for skiing and not enough to stay pretty even if it stays cold... so I'm hoping for some more!

Don't Let it Snow.

2010-11-30T17:43:00.000-06:00

First SNOW FLURRIES! Accompanied by frigid temperatures.

It's On

2010-11-26T10:27:00.001-06:00

Today, small lakes have frozen over, with a thin layer of ice...

Call of the Wild

2010-11-23T16:41:00.001-06:00

I'm standing in the prairie, rushing to collect flags, when the primordial trumpet of sandhill cranes causes me to stop all motion. I look around, get sun-blinded, regain my bearings, look again, see nothing. How can a noise that is so loud, and that sounds like it's surrounding me, be coming from things that I can't even find? Finally, with the help of a few 7th graders, I see them. Six "vee" formations, or seven maybe, each with a hundred or more birds in it. They are so high up that they look like dust almost, or ashes floating in the wind. But once I see them, I can't stop seeing them... a thousand birds, each as tall as me but so high up I can hardly see them, so numerous I can hear them distinctly, all journeying together, most likely to Florida... it's an amazing sight, one that brings you close to the ancients. I can imagine, a thousand years ago or more, people walking through the prairie, and stopping at the arresting call of the cranes. Taking a minute to ponder, to celebrate, before resuming life's daily tasks. In this season of thankfulness, I am grateful for cranes.

Another Day...

2010-11-23T07:16:00.001-06:00

Yesterday's high: 66 deg.

Current temp: 26 deg, on our way to a high of 36, which will feel colder if we keep having winds at around 20 mph.

Are you kidding me?

This (admittedly not very artistic) photo shows a frozen puddle. There is no ice on edge of the lake, but this is largely because the biting strong winds are making the water turbulent, and therefore unable to freeze over.

This morning, I got out my winter coat and winter boots (not the warmest pair I own, but winter nonetheless). I thought I might feel silly and overdressed. Not so. Rather, I am sort of annoyed with myself that I went with the fall gloves and hat, and didn't get out the long underwear. It may have been overkill, but it would have been comfortable overkill!

Flip Flop

2010-11-22T07:27:00.000-06:00

Currently, it is thunder storming (dark as night) and almost 60 degrees even this early in the morning. Crazy November weather!

OMG

2010-11-19T11:26:00.002-06:00

Holy cow! It is seriously, bone-chillingly COLD out there!

Still Here

2010-11-16T16:43:00.000-06:00

Today we saw:

a toad
a great blue heron
a frog (student-reported, I didn't see the frog).

Shouldn't these people be employing their winter survival strategies one of these days?