Hey, it’s been a while since we took a virtual hike together, hasn’t it? I’ve been busy rhapsodizing in the blog about saving the Big Oak, the amazing adaptations of migrating birds and the bizarre gifts of beavers for the last few months – and all of a sudden, summer is half over!

So let’s savor summer mornings at Charles Ilsley Park, a paradise for prairie enthusiasts, like me! I spent late June and most of July meandering along the prairie trails in peace and quiet. My new photographer friend, Aaron Carroll, and his camera kept me company on two mornings and my eagle-eyed husband Reg on another. Wow! We saw so much as we circumnavigated the prairies. Birds, bees, blossoms, beetles, bugs – I’m tempted to say it’s been a b-eautiful experience but that might be a serious overworking of alliteration…

Anyway, I’m inviting you to accompany us on two virtual hikes. We’d wear you out with one very long hike on a warm summer morning, right? I’ve provided a map so you can keep yourself located. This week we’ll head out into the eastern half of the Central Prairie and then hike the two loops within the Eastern Prairie. And in the next week or so, we’ll share our discoveries in the rest of the Central Prairie, and the West Prairie.

Ok, ready? In case we encounter unwanted attention from insects, dab on some imaginary Deet and let’s set off!

The Way In…

The trail into Charles Ilsley Park rolls and dips as we begin our hike. Huge oaks and walnuts and their saplings line one edge of the trail while fields roll west on the other side. Keep an eye out for bits of white fluttering at your feet. Once the tiny Eastern Grass Veneer moth (Crambus laqueatellus) settles on a grass blade, it folds into a thin white stick, or scuttles beneath a leaf. Or we might see a larger brown butterfly, the Northern Pearly-eye (Lethe anthedon), perched on a leaf edge. Its wings feature undulating bands of brown and gold, a scalloped edge and bold eyespots with white “pupils.” [Click on images to enlarge.]

Reg noticed an American Toad (Anaxyrus americanus) crouched in the grassy path. Since it ventured out to forage in daylight, it was probably a juvenile; most American Toads are nocturnal. Out to our left, a male Song Sparrow (Melospiza melodia) threw back its head to serenade us.

Song Sparrows sing slightly different songs in different regions. So below is my recording of a local Song Sparrow doing his Oakland Township rendition of the classic song. (Please turn up your microphone a bit and excuse the wind in the microphone!

Let’s Head Straight Into the Eastern Side of the Central Prairie

As soon as we start down the slope, we’re treated to two familiar birdsongs emanating from the hill in the center of this prairie. Along the ridge, a male Common Yellowthroat (Geothlypis trichas) insistently repeats his “witchety, witchety, witchety” song. And down in the tall grass below the hill, a female Yellowthroat peeks out to see if it’s safe to join him. I think they have a nest on that hill. For the last several years, a male Yellowthroat has claimed that area as his territory through song … and eternal vigilance!

The Field Sparrow (Spizella pusilla), not to be outdone, staked his claim to territory in the central prairie, too. All over the park, actually, you can hear these sparrows insistently repeating their “dropping ping-pong ball” song that starts slowly and quickly picks up speed.

Restoration work by Dr. Ben VanderWeide and his stewardship crew has been going on in these prairies for years with the removal of invasive shrubs and regularly applied prescribed burns to nourish the natives and discourage non-natives. The results multiply each year as different flowers emerge and fade through spring into autumn and more pollinators arrive to enjoy the bounty. The three wildflowers now making their appearance in the Central Prairie are classics: Bee Balm (Monarda fistulosa), Common Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca)and Butterfly Milkweed (Asclepias tuberosa).

Now, Take a Right Turn Into the Beautiful Eastern Prairie

What a vista greets us when we walk into this prairie! The land rises gently upward as we walk in and then rolls away downward into a huge, open sea of flowers and grass, punctuated at the far end by a huge, old White Oak (Quercus alba). Surrounded by forests which occasionally host the haunting song of the Wood Thrush, this prairie is one of my favorite spots in all of our parks.

Looking up as I entered the Eastern Prairie one hot morning, a male American Goldfinch (Spinis tristis) sat perched on a very high, thin branch. I soon realized why he was surveying the field; another male had dared to land nearby! The fellow in the tree swooped downward in a rush. The two flew furiously at each other in a twisting spiral for a few seconds, until the intruder departed. Territory established!

American Goldfinches delay mating until late July because they depend so much on thistles being in bloom. Of course, they gobble up thistle seed, like they do at our feeders, but they also also use the thistledown to line their nests. So being vigilant in protecting your territory in July and August makes good sense for a Goldfinch.

Each month of the summer, it seems, one wildflower gets to be the star of the show at Charles Ilsley Park. This July, top billing went to the False Sunflower (Heliopsis helianthoides) which can be identified by the “sessile” leaves which cling directly to the main stem. This bright yellow flower is called “false” because it is a cousin of the true sunflowers. Both its outer showy “rays” (the petal-like florets that surround the center disc) and the tubular florets in the central disc itself are fertile, whereas in “true” sunflowers, the ray florets cannot produce seed.

I’ve never before seen this abundance of False Sunflowers – and the pollinators are happy campers. Let’s take a closer look at those little disc flowers in the center of each flower head and see who’s been visiting!

By late July, these sunny blooms were beginning to fade, making room for more Bee Balm and the Yellow/Gray-headed Coneflower (Ratibida pinnata) which both thrive in the warm, dry soil of a late summer prairie.

Exploring the Southern Trail through the East Prairie

I’d recommend stopping for a moment to appreciate the view from the top of this prairie with its scrim of native grasses swaying before you in the slightest breeze. Here are a couple of the performers: hearty Big Bluestem (Andropogon gerardii) and delicate Switchgrass (Panicum virgatum).

Let’s take the first path to our right at the top of the prairie and follow it east. Within the tall grasses and wildflowers, a lone male Common Whitetail dragonfly (Plathemis lydia) perched on a stick in the open. I imagine him hoping to attract a mate as other species of dragonflies seem to have done in this prairie, as you’ll see below.

In the Eastern Prairie, Aaron saw two birds that we saw earlier in the Central Prairie. Both of his photos were so great I thought I should share them. The Common Yellowthroat was near the end of the shorter loop and the diving Field Sparrow sped downward farther along on the south side of the longer loop.

Now Let’s Make the Turn at the End of the East Prairie

A huge White Oak has been overseeing this prairie from its eastern edge for hundreds of years. I love to imagine that it’s pleased to see the landscape much as it was when it was young.

The tall grass of the prairie buzzes with dragonflies in July and August. They probably hatch from the numerous wetlands that dot the rolling forest to the north. Now they’ve emerged into the sunlight to find mates. Together, Aaron and I found several pairs.

The Twelve-spotted Skimmer male (Libellula pulchella) has three large black patches on each wing, white splotches between each black one plus two more at the base of the hindwing. The female is less flashy but her golden abdominal stripes are an elegant touch.

Eastern Pondhawks (Erythemis simplicicollis) look quite different by gender!

Red and yellow Meadowhawk dragonflies (genus Sympetrum) can be difficult to identify by species, though generally the red ones are male and the females are yellow. Many female Meadowhawks are said to be impossible to identify without looking at them in your hand – which is unlikely to happen for you and I!

I think we saw three different forms of the ubiquitous Widow Skimmer dragonfly (Libellula luctuosa). This is a banner year for this species!

Aaron spotted some strange new creatures along this stretch of the prairie. Let me introduce you to the Black-and-Gold Flat Millipede (Apheloria tigana) which decomposes dead material, the Leaf-footed Bug (Acanthocephala terminalis) identified by its orange-tipped antennae, and the False Milkweed Bug (Lygaeus turcicus) that actually feeds on False Sunflower and other asters. (It was originally misnamed as the Milkweed Bug.)

The center of both East Prairie trail loops shimmered with the orange blur of Great Spangled Fritillary Butterflies (Speyeria cybele) rising, sinking, stopping to feed. It’s a glorious summer for them, too. They’re often seen on milkweeds, bee balm and thistles. Luckily they can be seen fluttering about into September.

As Aaron approached the end of this trail, he heard the whistled wheeep call of the Great Crested Flycatcher I’d seen one earlier, but only managed a mediocre photo. Aaron tried too, but only got a shot from a great distance. So here’s a photo of one taken at Charles Ilsley Park a few years ago by my photographer friend Paul Birtwhistle so you can get a good look! Like other flycatchers, it swoops from a branch periodically to snatch flying insects out of the air, as well as plucking them off the ground.

As Reg and I exited the Eastern Prairie on one visit, we noticed a pair of adult Northern Flickers (Colaptes auratus) perched in the distance. The male (note the black “mustache”) flew out once and I got a quick shot.

As we stepped out onto the Central Prairie trail again, I checked out the snag (standing dead tree) just outside the Eastern Prairie to the north. Its bare trunks provide a great place to get a good look at perching birds during the leafy months of summer. And behold! A fledgling Northern Flicker was pecking tentatively on the bark, perfecting its foraging skills. My guess is that the adult Flickers were casually hanging around that corner to keep an eye on their recently fledged youngster.

An Embarrassment of Riches!

Here’s where we leave you for this week, standing beneath the snag looking at the fledgling Flicker. Feel free to follow the path back to the car and meet us beneath the snag next week when Cam et al. will share the wonders of the west of Charles Ilsley Park – like a restored wetland feeding flocks of butterflies, a summer resident warbler, more fledglings, some glorious adult birds, and on and on. We just couldn’t fit all the beauty we found in one blog! So, we hope you’ll return to share the bounty with us in a week or so. We’re confident you’ll be as delighted as we were.