Volo Bog State Natural Area

Posted on May 29, 2025 by admin

Not a sign that you see very often.

Unless you visit Volo Bog State Natural Area often. It is “the only open-water quaking bog in Illinois,” according to the Illinois DNR, and I’m inclined to believe it, though sad to say my grasp of the scientific difference between a bog, marsh and a swamp is weak. Still, as a pleasant spring day, we figured Sunday was a good time to re-visit the bog, up northwest, about a 45-minute drive.

It had been a while. But I can say that the trail still wobbles a bit, which still takes a few minutes’ getting used to.

” ‘It’s moving,’ I heard either Lilly or Rachel say ahead of me, since they were first to reach the trail, which is a boardwalk over the bog,” I wrote in May 2010. “The boardwalk’s wobble is a little unnerving at first, but before long you get used to it. For anyone over about three years old, anyone who is sober anyway, the danger of pitching into the bog is pretty low.”

It’s moist down there. I’d expect no less of a bog. I know that much, anyway.

“Formed in an ancient glacial kettle hole lake, Volo Bog features a floating mat of sphagnum moss, cattails and sedges surrounding the open pool of water in the center of the bog,” the DNR says. “Further from the open water, the mat thickens enough to even support floating trees!”

The open pool.

The public land at Volo Bog includes more than just the bog. A path loops around the property in parts that are a little less sloshy underfoot.

It takes a while, but when the full flush of spring comes to the North, it’s exuberant.

A modest but elegant building, a barn homage, houses the visitor center. Closed.

Bird apartments. Or maybe bats.

Tip of the hat (if I had a hat) to the Nature Conservancy, whose actions in the late ’50s preserved the bog. The organization has done the same for 119 million acres of land over six decades, E&E News reports, citing the organization itself.

Raj Ghat, Delhi

Posted on May 22, 2025 by admin

Still a chill in the air here in Illinois, but a bit warmer, so we’re on a slow climb back to real spring. Back to posting on May 27. In its float around late May, Memorial Day is four days earlier than Decoration Day this year.

Chilly, maybe, but that hasn’t discouraged the back yard irises.

A gift from a neighbor last year – some bulbs that we planted in the patch of land that, decades ago, had been a garden. That isn’t quite what I’d call it now. More of a back yard feature whose greenery towers over the ordinary lawn grass.

Not just irises. On the other side of the yard:

Raj Ghat was one of the first places we went in India. Its centerpiece is a memorial dedicated to Gandhi, in the middle of a large green square surrounded by walls. The black marble platform marks the spot of his cremation on January 31, 1948.

Outside the walls is more green space. A popular spot for school groups, looks like.

Nearby is the National Gandhi Museum. Considering that he’s Father of the Nation, not many people were there, but I suppose school groups show up regularly to enliven the place. Overall, the memorial seemed to be more of a draw.

On the grounds of the museum.

The plain rooms of the museum featured a lot of photos of Gandhi and text to go with it. For someone who lived before digital photography, his image was certainly captured by a lot of cameras. There were also a few artifacts, including one large one.

The vehicle used to carry his remains to Raj Ghat for cremation. I thought of the wagon I’d seen in Atlanta used for a similar melancholy purpose.

I can’t leave it at that.

Seen at the museum’s entrance.

The World Seems in Tune on a Spring Afternoon

Posted on May 14, 2025 by admin

One more image from graduation.

That’s the ceiling of CEFCU Arena in Normal. Once upon a time CEFCU was Caterpillar Employees Federal Credit Union. That company‘s HQ wasn’t far away, also once upon a time. But in more recent years, the entity became an independent financial services firm, renamed Citizens Equity First Credit Union to keep the initialism consistent.

It didn’t occur to me until later that the ceiling is Redbird red.

Speaking of red.

Not in Normal or anywhere else I’ve traveled lately, unless you count flowerbeds here in the northwest suburbs, about a mile and a half from home. Not just reds, either.

Nothing like spring flowers to remind you of favorite old springtime songs.

Have a Nice Trip, Sucker

Posted on February 5, 2025 by admin

As scam text messages go, this one needs work. Mostly literate, but the tone is off.

I don’t think the tollway authority has a bit of girlishness in it. Or boyishness either, or any particle of human emotion. It functions as a machine: in its own small sphere, a calculating, persistent revenue-generating engine. Then again, I guess it’s fitting that the text message is likely machine produced.

That’s pretty heavy. Something a little lighter.

Floral studies by my father.

Mitchell Park Domes ’24

Posted on January 6, 2025 by admin

Since we went to Indiana just before Christmas, it only seemed logical (to me) to go to Wisconsin just after Christmas. Due to considerations I don’t need to detail, we chose to make it a day trip. Milwaukee is convenient that way.

We arrived at the Mitchell Park Domes late in the misty drizzly but not freezing morning of December 27. Not our first visit, but the last time was quite a while ago.

Didn’t remember this detail: An analemmatic sundial in the sidewalk near the entrance, the likes of which you don’t see often. But no sun.

Formally, the place is known as the Mitchell Park Horticultural Conservatory and, since the last time we were there, the fate of the Domes was the subject of a number of recommendations and other proposals. One proposal was to knock ’em down and replace them with something still undesigned, but which I suspect which would be more along the lines of immersive edu-tainment. Again, just a suspicion, but that would fit a pattern: destroy something distinctive to a particular place (in this case, Milwaukee) and put up something that could be anywhere, in the name of an enhanced guest experience that is interactive as a modest pinball arcade.

A few months ago, the county committed to spending some money on the Domes, including “a $30 million commitment from Milwaukee County once funding milestones are achieved,” according to Friends of the Domes, which unfortunately sounds like “when the county figures out how to get the money, this could take a while.” But at least the magnificent triad of domes isn’t going to be destroyed in a plan to merge it with the county’s Milwaukee Public Museum.

“Based on our review of the information we believe there could be a great guest experience which integrates the content and stories from Milwaukee Public Museum with the content and experience of the current Domes and Conservatory,” a 2019 report by an outfit called Gallagher Museum Services notes. “Specifically, the natural history portion of the MPM storyline fits very nicely with the Domes experiences. From our analysis, GMS has concluded that the Milwaukee Domes should be demolished. The cost of properly renovating the Domes greatly outweighs the benefit of doing so…”

A far as I can tell as a non-Milwaukeean, the reaction to that was, “Outweighs the benefits? Says who?” Anecdotal evidence supports the preservationists. On the Friday after Christmas this year, when people have more time to go out, they were out in force at the Domes. Not obscenely crowded, but pretty busy. All ages. Many were families with small children. Children who will, if allowed, take their own children one day.

The GMS report makes it sound like the Domes themselves aren’t really part of the “Domes experience,” which really just involves an elaborate garden, as opposed to an elaborate garden in a distinctive, placemaking setting. The experience, the report seems to assert, is portable: take it out from under the Domes and you’d still have the “Domes experience” somehow in a spiffy new building.

People like the Domes. They already want to go there. The Domes are not the Milwaukee Public Museum, which is a fine institution in its own right, however one might shoehorn the “Domes experience” into a part of that museum that happens to be about nature. The “Domes experience” is only found at the domes, and the people of Milwaukee know that.

I believe that too. Just for the vaulting glass overhead, if nothing else.

The Domes hold their crowds pretty well, too. We were able to circulate comfortably and without any sort of jostling.

The tropical dome.

The arid dome.

The show dome.

Christmas was represented, of course, but also Advent, Winter Solstice, Hanukkah, and Kwanzaa.

As we did those years ago, we caught it during the holiday season show, and quite a show it is under the Domes.

Graceland Cemetery: The Color

Posted on November 18, 2024 by admin

On Sunday Yuriko was at her occasional cake class creating some figgy pudding. That’s what I’m calling it, since fig is the star ingredient, along with cinnamon and nutmeg and other spices. I’m also calling it oishi, Japanese for delicious, a word we use a fair amount.

There is no Spam in the recipe, however. Just as well.

Class is in the city, and I am chauffeur on such days, driving to the Humboldt Park neighborhood. The benefit for me: I get to spend a few hours in Chicago. This time I used the time to visit Graceland Cemetery on the North Side, accessed by bus and then the CTA Red Line.

More color than I expected. The leaves are a little late in falling this year.

What can it signify? Natural variation in timing? A hint of climate woes? I can’t claim to be smart enough to know, but I do know that my hour-plus stroll benefited from the unexpected late colors. Graceland is a queen among cemeteries for its beauty, so any season will offer a display worthy of that status. Still, fall is special.

As an arboretum, Graceland has over 2,000 trees and scores of species.

“In Chicago, as well as other major cities in America and Europe, cemeteries predated city parks as sites for pastoral strolls and quiet contemplation,” notes Chicago Garden: The Early History. “Thomas B. Bryan, a wealthy Chicago businessman and avid horticulturist, was the major force behind the creation of Graceland in 1860. Along with other investors [he] formed the Graceland Cemetery Company.

“Graceland’s location was ideal: readily accessible from Green Bay Road (now Clark Street) and later the Chicago and Evanston Railroad, yet far enough removed from the city to avoid health and sanitation issues. The company chose the high ridge area along what is now Clark Street, which was once an old Indian trail… In the sandy soil here, plants thrive better than in Chicago’s typical clay soil.”

Water views. The map calls it Lake Willowmere.

An ivy-covered stone.

That can’t be an accident of nature, since the standard of lawn care is clearly pretty high at Graceland. Could be the Simons wanted it that way. Or still do. Anyway, the leaves are changing.

Coyote, looks like.

I didn’t get very close, but close enough, and he seemed nonchalant about being around humans. He just wandered on by. Urban Coyote: there’s an animation project in that for someone.

Color is good, of course. So is monochrome.

In our time and place, cemetery tourism isn’t much practiced. At many cemeteries, I’m the only living person around, except maybe for grounds keepers. Graceland stood out from most in that way. I saw maybe two dozen or so other visitors, including bike riders, dog walkers and a handful doing what I was doing: wandering the 121-acre grounds, taking it in.

Meacham Grove Forest Preserve & The Temporary Tunnel of Gold

Posted on November 6, 2024 by admin

Though it’s fairly close, we hadn’t been to the Meacham Grove Forest Preserve in a few years, so on the last Saturday in October, I suggested a walk. Bright, warm and little wind: a good day for it.

The path around Maple Lake – called that on maps, anyway – takes you about halfway before you come to another path: a section of the North Central DuPage Regional Trail. We headed west on that trail.

At first the trail passes Spring Brook and Meacham Marsh. The Meacham brothers were earlier settlers in this part of DuPage County and the village of Bloomington was once known as Meacham’s Grove, as a waystation on the Chicago-Galena Stagecoach Trail.

At that moment in October, the trail winds into a tunnel of gold. That’s what I’m calling it anyway, mostly formed by a canopy of maple leaves. Canada has no monopoly on them, even if they put it on their flag.

Roselle Road divides the preserve. The other section is accessible by footbridge over the road.

All these years in the northwest suburbs, and we’d never ventured across the bridge. In the western section of the preserve, the North Central DuPage Regional Trail connects to a half-mile loop, Savanna Trail. Not quite a tunnel of gold, but not too shabby in its foliage.

There’s a metaphor in those leaves somewhere: a brief blaze of glory near the end.

Or maybe leaves are leaves are leaves.

Bruce Peninsula National Park: The Sand

Posted on October 17, 2024 by admin

Clambering around on rocks, even the kind that don’t require any technical skills, takes energy, so lunch was the next order of business after our hike along the shore of Georgian Bay last Wednesday. We spotted a food truck outside the park, on Ontario 6, called the Hungry Hiker. That seemed fitting.

It had a Bigfoot theme. That seemed odd.

During our travels in the U.S. West, especially Montana-Idaho-Washington state, we noticed many roadside Bigfoot depictions, including this one in metro Seattle, in front of a place in Edmonds where we had lunch one day.

The Hungry Hiker Bigfoot was the only one we saw in Canada. Whimsy on the part of the owner, maybe, which also included some of the menu items, such as the Sweaty Yeti, a chicken sandwich with a sweet glaze. We ordered one, but not The Big Foot, which was a foot-long hot dog. Sasquatch theme or not, the Hungry Hiker’s food was satisfying.

Next stop: Singing Sands Beach at Bruce Peninsula NP. The park includes more than one section, with the beach on the other side of the peninsula, facing Lake Huron proper.

Nice. A big, almost empty beach. In mid-summer, it’s probably overrun. In October, there were only a few people and a frolicking dog.

Behind the beach, a fen.

I don’t know a fen from a bog or a marsh, even though I’ve seen a fen, but that’s what the sign said. It also informed us that resident in the area is the Massasauga rattlesnake (Sistrurus catenatus), “Ontario’s only venomous snake.”

I didn’t know Ontario had any venomous snakes either, much less a rattler. We were further assured that they are small (not a good thing) and shy (better), so they are likely to avoid you. Also, they are endangered, so gardeners in, say, suburban Toronto aren’t at much risk. Canada ≠ Australia, despite some historic similarities. As we tromped along, none were to be heard.

A short trail wandered into the trees near the beach, past a couple of creeks meeting Lake Huron.

The trail was a loop, returning by way of grasslands and more beach, which was a little rocky at that point.

We still had some afternoon left – a warmish day in October isn’t to be wasted – so we went to the BPNP visitor center, back on the Georgian Bay side, to climb the observation tower.

Nice views, though not as much fall color as we’d expected. I could feel the tower shake just a little in the wind, which wasn’t a pleasant sensation. I’m still up for climbing towers for the vistas, but find myself a bit more unnerved by the experience than I used to be.

We still weren’t quite done. We drove the short way to Big Tub Harbour, which isn’t part of the national park, but rather part of the town of Tobermory.

The thing to see there is the lighthouse.

Still a working light, so no climbing, unlike others. Not as storied as the Lighthouse of Alexandria or even the Eddystone Light, but good enough on a windy afternoon in Ontario.

Pinery & Sauble Falls Provincial Parks

Posted on October 15, 2024 by admin

One provincial park on the way north last Tuesday, one more on the way south a two days later: Pinery and Sauble Falls, respectively.

Pinery Provincial Park hugs the shore of Lake Huron far south of the Bruce Peninsula and includes wooded areas with trails and a wide beach. Pinery PP

Park literature says the woodlands are an oak savanna, the largest remaining patch in Ontario. Still mostly green when we passed thorough, with touches of fall.

The woodland trails pass by the Old Ausable Channel. Still and punctuated by lily pads and green algae.

The Ausable River once ran here, and then on into Lake Huron, but irrigation and other civil engineering projects, back when this part of Canada was being developed for agriculture, changed the course of the river, isolating this stretch. As its recreational value became apparent by the time the park was created in the 1950s, further engineering adjustments were made to ensure it doesn’t dry up all together.

The beach was easy to reach and nearly (but not quite) empty. That’s October for you, but if you asked me, that’s a good time to visit a beach.

Ah.

Soon we notice ladybugs everywhere on the beach.

As insect hordes go, that’s a pretty agreeable one. Still, I’ve been on a lot of beaches and never encountered that. Though not cold, it wasn’t exactly warm, and the bugs barely moved, preferring to cluster together. Later, at the visitor center, I mentioned the bug horde (not using that word) to one of the workers, who had never heard of such a thing either. So maybe it’s just a freak at Pinery, not the beginning of a movement of coccinellidae famed among entomologists, or something.

Much further north, in fact at the southern edge of the Bruce Peninsula, is Sauble Falls Provincial Park.

It wasn’t busy, mostly occupied by a few retiree fishermen looking for a catch in the Sauble River below the falls. The trails in the park are short, mostly providing views of the low falls.

Once upon a time, the river supported a lumber mill, and a small town grew around it. Only small traces of any of that remain, such as part of a concrete raceway.

I expected a little more color on the Bruce Peninsula, but we were a little ahead of peak. At Sauble Falls, peak was closer.

You’d think that fall colors would get old. We see it every year. But it never does.

Craters of the Moon National Monument

Posted on October 3, 2024 by admin

Among the western states, Idaho’s got one of the more interesting shapes, the result of decades of negotiations, schemes and the arcane doings of Congress in the 19th century, which are summarized nicely in an article in Idaho magazine, though it could use a few more maps. Not every is happy with the current Oregon-Idaho border, though I’m not holding my breath waiting for a change.

Idaho’s flag is less interesting; another state seal.

At least the seal has some Latin: Esto perpetua, let it be forever; it is forever. I assume that’s a wish for the existence of Idaho, or Idaho’s status as a state, not the seal or flag itself. New state flag designs for Idaho are kicking around on the likes of Reddit, but nothing official seems to be in the works yet. Pocatello has had a new flag since 2017, however, and it did need one.

We headed east from Boise on September 3. The easy way is on I-84. We drove to Mountain Home and then turned off on US 20, as previously mentioned. Go that way and you’ll eventually come to Craters of the Moon National Monument and Preserve. It’s a big blob on the map (753,000 acres) that has long intrigued me.

The monument was originally created in 1924 by President Coolidge partly due to the publicizing efforts of an interesting Idahoan, Bob Limbert, who explored the area, previously ignored as a wasteland, and wrote about it. President Clinton expanded Craters of the Moon greatly in 2000 and I’ve read that the Idaho legislature has asked Congress to make it a national park.

I’d be against it. Not that anyone has asked me, but it’s time to stop national park bloat. Sixty-three is more than enough. Sixty is fine, for that matter, a nice round number with ancient resonance. There’s nothing wrong with a place being a national monument. It’s an honorable old designation, the brainchild that most conservation-minded president, TR. I need to visit more of them myself: only 21 out of 134 so far, counting Craters of the Moon and Devils Tower.

The part of Craters of the Moon accessible to casual tourists is only a sliver, but quite a sliver. One trail leads over the aftermath of ancient lava flows, and a road leads to cones.

The terrain just cries out for a monochromatic treatment.

The day was warm enough to wear a hat and carry water, but not blazing hot. A scattering of other tourists were around, but nothing like the more popular trails of the national parks.

The place looks barren, but it isn’t so, since life adapts.

Except where it doesn’t. Yet.

We decided not to climb the enormous black cone, but if you look carefully, you can see a fellow who did. Note the trail on one of the smaller cones. That we did climb, reaching a view of the maw of the cone, though it has a grate blocking the way, to limit the erosive effect of a constant trickle of people clambering down.

More monochrome.

“The craters of Craters of the Moon… are definitely of volcanic origin,” explains the NPS paper guide, noting also that the name dates from long before anyone knew what the actual craters of the Moon looked like, at least up close. I don’t think any of the Apollo astronauts were reminded of Idaho. No matter, the name’s got some panache.

“But where is the volcano? These vast volumes of lava issued not from one volcano but from a series of deep fissures – known collectively as the Great Rift – that crosses the Snake River Plain. Beginning 15,000 years ago, lava welled up from the Great Rift to produce this vast ocean of rock. The most recent eruption occurred a mere 2,000 years ago, and geologists believe that future events are likely.”

Not to be confused with the Great Rift Valley, over in East Africa. The Digital Atlas of Idaho calls it the Great Rift system, “a series of north-northwest trending fractures… The total rift system is 62 miles long and may be the longest known rift zone in the conterminous United States.”

In other places, life has returned more robustly. There’s an easy trail through that as well.

A difficult place for trees, looks like.

We spent longer than planned at Craters of the Moon, which meant that we didn’t get to Victor, Idaho, our next destination, until well after dark. No big deal, it was worth it, and the nighttime winding road was a smaller version of the twisty drive near Sheridan, Wyo., so not bad either.

Been There, Seen That

By Dees Stribling

Category Archives: Flora