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Tag Archives: insect

Camp Bullfrog Lake, Palos Preserves, and Sante Fe Prairie Nature Preserve

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October 6, 2024

I woke up early enough at Camp Bullfrog Lake to take a short walk. This may have been the first time I’ve seen a sunrise there. It was a beautiful one.

We decided to start another campfire, which left almost nothing solid behind. While we were behind the cabin, J spotted a mantis that looked a lot bigger and more solid than those I remember. It proved to be a Chinese mantis. When it felt my movement in the grass, it turned its head toward me. I wondered what it perceived.

Next, it was off to the art fair, where we were too late to sign up for a wagon ride. I didn’t see either of my favorite candle vendors, either. But the flowers, decorations, and festivities got me in the mood for fall, as did the Halloween theme at Ashbary Coffee House.

I can’t remember how I found it online, but I spotted a “Sante Fe Prairie Nature Preserve” in Hodgkins, Illinois. Here’s how it’s described:

This 10.8 acre prairie is one of the rarest types of Illinois prairie, only two of its kind exist in the state. It was donated by the Burlington Northern Santa Fe Railroad in 1997 to the Civic Center Authority which now owns and manages this high quality prairie. More than 225 native plant species have been recorded at the site, many of which only survive in such prairie.

Hodgkins, a hub for United Parcel Service, is industrial (light industrial?), which made the drive surreal, especially with dusk coming on. We passed industry after industry, went over railroad tracks and under overpasses, and generally navigated a post-apocalyptic landscape.

At last we came to a road with the Des Plaines River on one side and a Sante Fe caboose on the other. The prairie is past the caboose. It was hard to see in the growing gloom set against the backdrop of light industry. It will be worth another visit in daylight, which may not feel so eerie.

Sign:

AN ILLINOIS NATURE PRESERVE

SANTA FE PRAIRIE

Santa Fe Prairie Nature Preserve has been formally dedicated as a sanctuary for native plants and animals. It is maintained in its natural condition so that present and future generations can see the Illinois landscape as it appeared in the past. This living example of our natural heritage is valuable for scientific studies and may provide habitat for rare plants and animals.

A high-quality feature of this preserve is the mesic gravel prairie, which is rated by The Nature Conservancy as globally rare and threatened throughout its range. Surrounding lands have been managed to support natural forest, prairie, and wetlands, all to the benefit of Santa Fe Prairie.

This preserve is owned by the Illinois & Michigan Canal National Heritage Corridor Civic Center Authority. Entrance is by permission only. Remain in the mowed areas. Domestic animals prohibited. Please protect and perpetuate the nature preserve by not disturbing or removing anything. All features are protected by law.

Illinois Nature Preserves Commission

More:

Santa Fe Prairie Nature Preserve contains high quality mesic and dry-mesic gravel prairie recognized by the Illinois Natural Areas Inventory. Gravel prairie is extremely rare in Illinois and the Midwest. Mesic gravel prairie dominated by prairie dropseed, big bluestem, and Indian grass makes up most of the site. There is also dry-mesic gravel prairie that is dominated by big bluestem, Indian grass, prairie dropseed, and porcupine grass. Prairie cord grass, blue joint grass, and multiple sedge species dominate the wet prairie. Characteristic species of the marsh community include bluejoint grass, narrow-leaved cattail, great bulrush, common arrowhead, and winged loosestrife. Approximately 225 native plant species have been recorded from the site.

Camp Bullfrog Lake, Palos Preserves, Sante Fe Prairie
Camp Bullfrog Lake, Palos Preserves, Sante Fe Prairie
26 photos

I&M mule-pulled canal boat trip — maybe

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July 27 and 28, 2024

Back in 2018, J and I managed an outing on the I&M canal boat, The Volunteer, after the wind had canceled the previous day’s trip. Between Saturday and Sunday, however, the usual means of locomotion, a mule, had  hurt himself right where the harness rests. On this attempt the crew went with a motor. If we wanted to go on a mule-pulled canal boat ride, we were going to have to try another time.

Fast forward to 2024. I bought the tickets and some extra goodies, and away we went. First was a planned visit to The Cheese Shop & Deli in Ottawa. Pickled eggs! Then we stopped at the usual places along the Illinois River, at dinner at Starved Rock Lodge, and headed to Peru for a good night’s rest.

Alas, at the Lock 16 Café and Visitor Center, we found out Moe the mule was under the weather. This time, though, an engine was not mentioned as an option. I’m not sure why and didn’t think of it until too late.

After shopping and dining, we went to Lock 14, where a woman sat in a chair by Moe’s enclosure, reading and I suppose keeping an eye on him (or his visitors). Moe was munching, but after a while came over to the fence briefly for a pet or two. He’s a handsome mule. My dad complained about the stubborn mules back on the farm — I wonder if he would have gotten along with Moe.

Next I consulted Atlas Obscura and Roadside America for the area and found at least one oddity — a dead tree carved into the “Vulcan salute” from Star Trek, along with “Live long and prosper.” I wonder what the neighbors think of that.

Years ago on the return from a road trip, we’d stopped at a place with a giant percolator sign, “Sapp Bros. Food & Fuel” (all I could remember was “Sapp Bros.”). According to my sources, it was along I-80 near Peru. Twelve years later, it was time for a better photo. I liked the vintage feel — like stepping back into the 1960s.

The next stop was the I&M Canal remnants in North Utica. Years ago I thought I’d read of a plan to fill it in, but it’s still there, complete with snags and basking duckweed-covered turtles.

On to Rock & Soul (rock and crystal shop), the Illinois Waterway Visitor Center, a brief glimpse of an aqueduct in Ottawa, and one of Ottawa’s riverside parks, before finally heading back to Chicago — by a means faster than mule-pulled canal boat.

Ottawa-Starved Rock-Peru-La Salle
Ottawa-Starved Rock-Peru-La Salle
155 photos

Brood XIII Magicicada

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Brood XIII
Brood XIII
32 photos

If you had come to North America from Europe, especially Great Britain, in the 1500 to 1700s, you had to have been overwhelmed by some of the differences between home and here, especially in landscape and species. The British coped by giving some American animals the same or similar names as more familiar ones, even when the animal was clearly different. The European robin lent its name to the American robin. The European hedgehog was transformed into the groundhog (aka woodchuck).

The.2024 emergence of Brood XIII and Brood XIX in Illinois makes me wonder about those who moved here from Europe or even the eastern cities. With only the annual dog day cicada for reference, what would you think when one May day you found numerous holes in the ground, insect-shaped husks clinging to branches everywhere, and red bug eyes staring at you by the thousands, millions, maybe billions? And then you are deafened by their calls until they die off en masse several weeks later? They don’t appear again the next year, or the next, or the year after that — not for another 13 or 17 years. Nothing would have prepared you for them.

I recall the last emergence only vaguely, although I don’t think I saw any cicadas. I may have heard them a couple times, mostly while dining outside. I assumed they occur in western New York, but a U.S. Forest Service map shows they occur in a small area east of my hometown,

This time, however, I was able to see them in a few places — first at Black Partridge Woods, finally at Bremen Grove, with Riverside, Morton Arboretum, and Chicago Botanic Garden in between.

I love them and am going to miss them. If I live that long, I’ll be just shy of 79 when Brood XIII next appears.

When you think about a frail nymph burrowing underground, eating for 17 years, emerging, shedding its exoskeleton, drying out its wings (sometimes imperfectly), finding mates, laying eggs that hatch into nymphs that burrow underground to emerge and repeat the cycle in 17 years — it’s nature at its weirdest. Only through sheer numbers do they survive. As the Field Museum said, “Here for a good time, not for a long time.”

I hope the numbers are on their side in 17 years, with not too many paved over. Broods can go extinct, and I’d hate to see (or not see) that happen in 17 years.

Long live Brood XIII and Brood XIX.

Magicicadas at Morton Arboretum

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I may not have another chance to see a Magicicada emergence, and the western suburbs of Chicago is one of the hot spots for them. It seemed likely that Morton Arboretum, with acres of trees, would be a great place to visit.

Even by the entry booths and parking lot, I could see them flying around. Like many suburban homeowners, the Arboretum staff had covered yougn and delicate trees with netting to prevent female cicadas from getting in and sawing off twigs for a place to lay their eggs. They’re welcome to larger, mature trees that can handle it.

We stopped at the Big Rock Visitor Station area and found some hanging out, especially on or near the footbridge, where they were easy to spot against the wood. It’s those giant red eyes.

It was only toward the end of the East Side loop that I spotted an easily accessible area loaded with them — so loaded I had to be careful where I stepped. Even then, accidental deaths likely happened.

I took as many photos as I could for as long as I could stand (not as long as I would have liked). The sun was so bright, there were so many, and my ability to focus so poor at times I didn’t notice there were two in some photos — planning for the next emergence.

I also paid attention to the ground. I wanted to avoid stepping on them if possible, plus cicadas like to sit on shoes and sometimes pants. I don’t know why.

When I could stay standing anymore, it was off to Bavarian Lodge for dinner and a pick from the beer and cider menu. Mmmm.

Magicicadas at Morton Arboretum
Magicicadas at Morton Arboretum
14 photos

Cicadas, Brood XIII

Brood XIII is on the merge of emerging. Although I don’t expect to see them in my Chicago neighborhood, I’m ready with cicada postcards and a new “Love is in the Air” cicada t-shirt from Christopher Arndt. Then a co-worker alerted me to this video from the Forest Preserve District of DuPage County explaining the life cycle of the 17-year cicada. Enjoy.

Indian Ridge Marsh redux

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August 29, 2023

J and I decided to see Save the Tunes at Chellberg Farm, but detoured to Indian Ridge Marsh, or Park 565 in Chicago Park District nomenclature. The last visit to Indian Ridge Marsh was in 2019, when the area by the Norfolk Southern tracks was open water.

Indian Ridge Marsh with neighboring industry
Open water with hydrology meter in 2019 (facing north)
Indian Ridge Marsh
Open water in 2019 (facing south)
Indian Ridge Marsh, no longer open water
Facing north in 2023
Indian Ridge Marsh, no longer open water
Facing south in 2023

First, we had to get there. We passed meadows of native flowers, including compass plants whose disappearance Aldo Leopoldo eloquently lamented. They’re thriving in natural areas in and around Chicago, such as the Calumet Region here and at Morton Arboretum.

We spotted monarchs and other insects, including an army of goldenrod soldier beetles intent on perpetuating the species.

A surprise awaited us at the end of this westbound trail (another trail, too wet and muddy to negotiate in 2019, heads south). The open water had filled in with aquatic plants in on both sides of the trail. which dead ends at the Norfolk Southern line. I hope they’re native. There was a piece of heavy equipment in the area, so I’d guess the Chicago Park District and volunteers are working on it.

I didn’t want to miss Save the Tunes, so  I didn’t dawdle on the way to the lot. J called me back to look at beetles, which I never saw because was distracted by this:

White-banded crab spider
Female white-banded crab spider, an ambush predator — it’s not a sharp photo partly because it was quite breezy

This is a female white-banded crab spider, the same species of spider I witnessed killing a painted lady, an Eastern tiger swallowtail, and a skipper at Perennial Garden. They choose a flower and lie in wait for their unsuspecting pollinator prey. This one may have turned slightly yellowish after a few days on this tall tickseed flower. The ones I’d seen before (when I noticed the dying or dead butterflies) were embedded in the more intricate blooms of a butterfly bush or other flower and were nearly impossible to see. The male, by the way, is smaller and more colorful, and dines on nectar.

My final sighting of the day was a pair of American goldfinches on a pair of compass plants, with the female closer to the trail. At Perennial Garden, I’d noted the goldfinches favored the tiny stand of compass plants there.

Aldo Leopold would be happy.

Indian Ridge Marsh, August 27, 2023
Indian Ridge Marsh, August 27, 2023
17 photos

Pennsylvania: Logan Valley Cemetery, Sinking Valley, Whipple Dam State Park

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September 2

We visited my parents’ graves at Logan Valley Cemetery, located across from the high school. A cousin I haven’t seen in decades had left flowers at my dad’s grave. His flag holder for veterans still has a metal medallion. The newer medallions are plastic thanks to theft. Once upon a time I was young enough to find it shocking someone would steal the flag holder from a veteran’s grave.

Dad's marker

In Sinking Valley, this little mare and her young’un attract customers to Hilltop Farm. There’s also a wee donkey.

Wee ponies and donkey

On to Whipple Dam State Park, which was new to me. It’s yet another part of our legacy from the Civilian Conservation Corps. As it was Labor Day and central Pennsylvania isn’t rich with beaches, a college-age crowd had gathered at Whipple Dam’s postage stamp of sand to play volleyball and stand in the relatively shallow water. Despite the crowd, the surrounding woods gave the lake and beach an isolated feeling that reminded me of Pewit’s Nest in Wisconsin.

Whipple Dam State Park
Whipple Dam State Park
Autumn meadowhawk
Whipple Dam State Park

We’d passed the road to Shaver Creek Environmental Center and stopped on the way back. The buildings were closed for the holiday, so we relaxed on the deck’s Adirondack chairs. I kept hoping to hear a creek.

On the way to the park, V. spotted a plant she thought might be teaberry (ICE CREAM!). According to the folks of iNaturalist, it’s partridgeberry. Pretty, but perhaps not as weirdly tasty as teaberry. If you can’t get teaberry ice cream, try Clark’s teaberry gum. You won’t thank me, I think. It’s an acquired taste, associated with childhood 50 years ago.

Partridgeberry
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