Відео

It's unseasonably warm this weekend. A helpful warmth welcoming me into what might be considered a redundant, unchanged view of the prairie planting. Noticing compositions and searching for subjects requires practice. I'm reminded movement creates momentum.

It's cold, 25 degrees (-4 Celsius), and the foliage has twisted and withered revealing animal paths here and there about the prairie planting. Since the sun made it seem warmer that it was, I followed many of the paths, and captured some sights along the way.

Our backyard prairie was planted in two large rectangular sections. We walk down one side and up the middle, then down the other side and up the middle. It's really a figure-eight, but we call it a loop. Come along in search of compositions and changes that catches your eye.

The branches surrounding the prairie planting are more visible now. The dressings of the leaves are falling, revealing underlying shapes. A structure of Nature's decisions. The sounds of a distant train decidedly passes through the leafless trees.

When I was young, my siblings and I would play leaf catch. The goal was to catch as many leaves as you could falling from the trees. I hold onto that memory, revisiting it each and every year as the leaves let go.

Walking in the prairie is like I'm dreaming. There's distant out-of-reach white noise from far off streets. A gentleness to the wind, though I feel the brisk of autumn on my exposed hands holding the camera. An almost in focus wash of morning sun filters through the fronds and stems of grasses and yesterday's blooms.

Native plantings are not without maintenance. There is a natural reforestation that wants to happen. Prairie burns are often used to control their growth, setting the cherry, maple, hackberry, and mulberry back so the deep rooted prairie plants can enjoy less competition. Burns in the suburbs are not often recommended, and so we cut these tree saplings every so often.

Getting close to the native plants puts me in there on their scale. On the scale of bees and lacewings. It's a different world up close. Noticing the small bits of yellow coneflower pedals and broken seed pods is an interesting exercise. It takes some time to acclimate to the smaller scale of this world. But then, suddenly, there are miniature scenes everywhere.

Each week, the native planting captivates and surprises me. From a distance, it's a field of browns and whites, a bunch of spent blooms, but within are these perfect little scenes. Nature's interior designer is quite competent. Not to say there isn't maintenance happening. Recently, Anne has been cutting back some of the common goldenrod seeds to keep them from taking over the space. The golden...

There is an old oak near the prairie. It sustained major damage from an intense wind storm a few years ago, but it's still going. It casts shadows where its branches extend over the native planting, creating different conditions for certain species to adapt or grow elsewhere. The walnut trees are to the north and far enough away so as to not cause major issues. Yes, the nuts will find their way...

Crickets and the neighbor's dog replace the morning bird songs. Early evening as the sun sets on the prairie provides a new sound scape and visual variety. Backlight and glowing edges are everywhere. Pollinators shine as they flit near the lens. The asters and goldenrod and grasses paint the prairie in muted tones. Only twelve more days until it is officially fall.

It is nearly September. Every bloom at this stage feels like a gift. There wasn't much blue vervain in the prairie this year. But the little patches that I did see created quiet corners. This is where I might hang out if I were a tiny prairie creature. Asters and goldenrod demand most attention and I need to look more intentionally to find my compositions. The sun rises more quickly it seems an...

There are at least two goldenrod species in the prairie: common and showy. There are at least two species of praying mantis in our area, but the invasive and larger variety is the one we see most often. We've been catching and releasing these amazing bugs at parks in the area. Probably a futile effort, but after finding piles of monarch wings in the prairie, taking some action felt better than ...

The combination of new and spent blooms create lovely combinations. The dark heads of dried cone flowers stand in dark contrast to the glowing feathery golden rod. The blue and orange of the Smooth Blue Aster predict an early Fall. But then everything was early this year.

Cute as a Button

Very Vervainy

Partridge Pea Please

Lovely Liatris (Blazing Star)

Yes, Yellow Coneflowers!

Rattlesnake Master Don't Bite

Wild Bergamot Wows

Navigating Cone Flower Rivers

A Morning Walk with Butterfly Milkweed

Pale Purple Cone Flowers Begin

A Butterfly in the Prairie

What's Blooming in the Prairie?

Lupine Blooms