Not long ago, on one of the warmish days we had before the more recent chilly run, we made our way back to Deer Grove Forest Preserve in Palatine, one of the many such green spaces in the northwest suburbs. Except it hadn’t greened yet. The last time we were there, during the pandemic spring of 2020, it was full spring and lush green.

Still, there’s a certain charm to the slumbering brown-gray earth, provided the air isn’t that cold and the paths are fairly dry. Had a good walk.

Trees before budding. It won’t be long.

Grassland waiting to green up. That will come even sooner.

Recent rains – including much of yesterday – are hastening things along. I cracked the window last night to listen to the micro-splash rhythm of the falling rain, but didn’t leave it open too long, as cold air snuck in along with the pleasurable sounds.

The snow forecast for Friday night didn’t show, though a little rain came the next day. Sunday turned out warmish, around 50 F., and mostly clear.

We made our way in early afternoon to Beverly Lake, which is on forest preserve land almost as far west in Cook County as you can go.

The map’s misleading, or at least incomplete. It depicts the 22-acre Beverly Lake, but most of the trails are in open space to the west and northwest. The trails are marked for cross-country skiing, but on Sunday, they were merely soggy in a few places.

“We’ve been here before,” I said. Yuriko didn’t remember, since it was a while ago: a warm day in April 2004, when we got a break from the kids for a few hours. I probably wouldn’t have remembered if I hadn’t written about it.

The lake.

Trails wide and narrow.

We came across a half-dozen volunteers removing invasive species and making a bonfire out of the debris. An older member of the party, maybe the leader, was keen to explain what they were doing. The enemy, he said, is buckthorn. Once he pointed it out, I started seeing it in a lot of places, including along some of the trails.

The buckthorn is the vine-like branches hanging and clinging every which way on the forest trees.

“… buckthorn species were first brought here from Europe as a popular hedging material,” explains the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources. “They became a nuisance plant, forming dense thickets in forests, yards, parks and roadsides. They crowd out native plants and displace the native shrubs and small trees in the mid-layer of the forest where many species of birds nest.”

Even more menacing in black and white, I think.

We’ve been to Ned Brown Forest Preserve more recently than February 2012, but I can’t remember when, so it’s been a while. With temps above freezing and the sun shining as brightly as it can in February, we decided to take a walk there on Sunday.

Good thing we weren’t in the mood for a picnic.

Plenty of people had been there before us.

But no bicycles. That’s the best thing about these trails in winter. In warmer weather, especially on a weekend, you play dodge ’em with the two wheelers if you’re a mere pedestrian.

Ice fishing is at your own risk on Busse Lake. Does it look like a good day for it?

Apparently it was, at least on a small sliver of the surface. Of course, we’ve had some deep cold recently, so I guess that’s what kept these people from dropping into the icy drink.

Fun for some. For our part, we walked around to the dam that forms Busse Lake by blocking Salt Creek. This is the view from the dam toward the lake.

Toward the spillway.

We decided not to take the nearby Salt Creek Trail, though we have before.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and we —

We took the one more traveled by,

And that has made no difference at all.

When you see a sign like this, it’s good to follow it to the named destination. Especially if you already know something is there.

The last time we tried to visit Rocky Glen Waterfall was last summer. Apparently there’s swimming in the area, because when we got there, parking was scarce, but people in bathing suits were common.

I figured in April, particularly a cool April day, crowding wouldn’t be a problem, and it wasn’t. We arrived in the area in mid-afternoon Easter Saturday.

The waterfall, on Sawmill Creek, is part of Waterfall Glen Forest Preserve in DuPage County. One short trail goes to the waterfall, others snake around near the creek.

The waterfall. Niagara, it ain’t, but it is pleasant.

A nearby sign says that the falling-water feature was built by — of course it was — doughty members of the CCC. They were from a camp in the nearby Fullersburg Woods, V-1668, and its men quarried stone near the current site of the falls, and built other infrastructure along Sawmill Creek.

V for veterans. So not just doughty, but doughboys. That same camp did work at Fullersburg itself.

The creek just downstream from the falls, forming a pond-like spot. Rocky all right.

We followed a path downstream along the creek a quarter-mile or so. The view of the falls from some distance.

A short distance away, ruins of the CCC presence.

Our path doubled back to a short bluff overlooking Sawmill Creek where it makes a bend.

Look at that, I told my family. Besides the size, how is that different from that Instagram- famous river bend in Arizona? My family scoffed at the comparison, mildly, but I stand by it.