Hiking the Driftless Trails: In Conversation with the Prairie

Tuesday, October 21, 2025

In Conversation with the Prairie

May's prairie smoke

This year in early March, I stopped at Holland Sand Prairie to check if the any pasque flowers were blooming. When I arrived at the trailhead, I saw a large portion of the prairie was blackened by a prescribed burn (part of scheduled restoration and prairie maintenance work). I decided, then and there, to see what I could learn by returning weekly and noting the changes as the prairie regenerated.

During thirty visits from March to October, I observed the burned areas recover. At the beginning, I saw the black, burned surface displaying subtle hints of greenness. That was followed in April by a fuzzier green and a few true sprouts - many too tiny for me to identify. From there, the prairie forbs quickly grew as the months passed and the weather warmed. Each week, I'd take a few pictures from the same vantage point to get a view to use as weekly/monthly/seasonal comparisons.

Butterfly milkweed

And somewhere in that time, as the weeks rolled on, I realized that there was a conversation that I was having during each amble along the prairie. The plants revealed themselves to me as they grew and bloomed. As I noted what was bloomed, not-yet-bloomed, past its main blooming time and finally going to seed in my phenology journal, I reflected on the complex web of succession blooms and how the prairie colors changed throughout the seasons.

Deptford pink

I was delighted to discover new-to-me forbs and grasses, looking them up for more information and noting the length of their blooming season. When you're new to deeper observation, the learning comes on fast and furious. Yet it was still slow enough to help me begin to easily recognize so many flowers, grasses and plants. It was like greeting old friends from week to week.

Bluebirds checking out
accommodations

It wasn't just the plants that spoke to me as they grew though. Part of the conversation involved the rich web of life supported by the prairie.

The birds returned and began their mating calls and nesting in mid-April. Their songs accompanied my walks in late spring and throughout the summer. When the songs began to fade with the first migrations in September, it left a lull in the conversation that I missed.

Common eastern bumblebee

The insect life was invigorating, to say the least. From the dragon and damselflies to butterflies, bees and beetles, I found a new urge to know and identify them. That was an unexpected learning bonus in my prairie conversations.

So began a new line of discussion with the prairie's insect life added to my understanding - and homework - as I slowly added to species that I could reliably identify. I began to identify and note more precisely the favored blooms that insects gathered pollen and nectar from. When the more inscrutable (to me) grasshoppers began to rule the day in late summer and early fall, my conversations were again full of chatter.

Milkweed seeds

Recent opportunities with The Prairie Enthusiasts to help collect seed there have extended my conversation with this beautiful dry sand prairie gem. But I know that cold and winter are soon coming on and our conversation will pause while we await the spring to talk and learn together once more.

During that pause, I'll have a chance to do a little studying and learning sparked by the observations and phenology notes I've made over the past eight months.

I think that will give me fresh eyes and topics to bring back in spring when the prairie and I can meet again and celebrate next year's seasons together.

I can hardly wait for the conversation to begin again.

Here are a few views of the prairie's regrowth after the prescribed burn: