Summer Flora

Clouds keep promising more rain, but then not following through. So it's still dry. But some flowers are blooming all the same.

All of these shots were taken recently at the still-lush Spring Valley, deep in the heart of the northwest suburbs.

The Lion Bridge

During our walk on Sunday at the Poplar Creek Forest Preserve, we came across the Lion Bridge.
 

I'd never seen it before. But this was a new part of the winding trail for me, passing close to the intersection of Sutton and Golf roads. Just south of the intersection, Sutton crosses Popular Creek, and so does the Lion Bridge, though it's positioned parallel to Sutton, not far to the east. This makes me think that before the modern road was built, an older version of Sutton -- probably a dirt road -- crossed Popular Creek via this bridge. Now the hiking-horse trail crosses via the bridge, with the bicycle trail crossing next to the modern road.

A fine site, HistoricBridges.org, tells me that "Very little is known about the history of this bridge. The designer and contractor is unknown, nor is it known why such elaborate decorative design was applied to this bridge. Nothing about the location of the bridge stands out as reason for the decorative design, which is more like a bridge that would be found in a large city park rather than the relatively open and undeveloped location in which this bridge is located. Constructed in 1906, the bridge is a very early surviving example of a reinforced concrete bridge."

I got as close as I could with my primitive camera, to take a shot of one of the lions.

And of course, we walked across it. Been a while since I was able to walk across a new (to me) bridge.

Hoofprints on the Trail

On Sunday we were at the Poplar Creek Forest Preserve, walking along a unpaved but well-maintained trail in the Shoe Factory Road Woods -- bet there's no other forested area in the world with that name -- and we came across something you don't see too often in the suburbs.

Hoofprints. The hiking path doubled as a horse trail, though none were to be seen at that moment. Still, one had trod by in the not-too distant past, probably on its way back to the horse farm on Bode Road that's surrounded by forest preserve territory.

An Unusual March at the Buffalo Creek Forest Preserve

Happy Easter to all. Back on Monday.

Till then, an image from almost two weeks ago: crazy green for March.

Taken at the Buffalo Creek Forest Preserve in Lake County, Illinois. But just barely in Lake County, since just beyond the horizon is the aptly named Lake-Cook Road, more-or-less the border between the counties.

"Most of this property was previously owned by the Popp family, who since early settlement times had farmed the rich land," says Lake County Forest Preserves. "The Popps initially had a dairy farm, and then converted to grain crops such as soybeans, wheat and corn. Acquisition of this land by the Lake County Forest Preserves took place in several purchases between 1978 and 1987...

"Prior to European settlement, this land supported a tallgrass prairie dotted with a few small wetlands. Restoration of that prairie has been underway since the 1980s. Though the land has been drastically altered, first by farming and later during reservoir construction, a surprising diversity of grassland birds uses the preserve, including bobolinks and eastern meadowlarks."

The Dread Zebra Mussel

It's a pleasant-looking place, but not all is well with Deep Quarry Lake at the West Branch Forest Preserve. Zebra Mussels have invaded. Signs all around the lake warned anglers not to participate in the species' invasion of North America.

"A small freshwater mollusk called the zebra mussel (Dreissena polymorpha), has been steadily invading America's rivers and lakes," says the National Atlas of the United States. "Zebra mussels originated in the Balkans, Poland, and the former Soviet Union. They first appeared in North America in 1988 in Lake St. Clair, a small water body connecting Lake Huron and Lake Erie. Biologists believe the zebra mussels were picked up in a freshwater European port in the ballast water of a ship and were later discharged into the Canadian side of Lake St. Clair."

Apparently they move in and take over, eating all the algae and other creatures that come their way. "Zebra mussels upset ecosystems, threaten native wildlife, damage structures, and cause other serious problems," the Atlas continues. "Millions of dollars are spent each year in attempting to control these small but numerous mollusks... Once zebra mussels become established in a water body, they are impossible to eradicate with the technology currently available. Many chemicals kill zebra mussels, but these exotics are so tolerant and tough that everything in the water would have to be poisoned to destroy the mussel."

Ah, another old commie plot still wreaking havoc.

West Branch Forest Preserve

It was warm enough on Sunday to do this.

To do it comfortably, that is. Actually, it's been warm enough for an entire memorable, un-March-like week.

We visited the West Branch Forest Preserve in Bartlett, Illinois. The body of water that Ann stood next to was descriptively named Deep Quarry Lake.

Good for two things: fishin' and walking nearby. We did some walking.

Weekend Walks

Saturday was warmish, so Ann and I visited Spring Valley, as we did about a year ago, before the plants start to green or many insects buzz around. The burned land we saw last year isn't blackened any more, and I expect it'll be verdant indeed in a couple of months.

This path wasn't in the controlled burn area.

Had a nice time near the pond, too. From the dock I spotted a large tadpole swimming near the bottom, about a foot down. He must be ahead of his tadpole comrades, since he was the only one around, and we spent a while looking for another, but no luck.

Sunday was even warmer, about 70° F. We all went to Mallard Lake Forest Preserve, which is now open again after some kind of wetland restoration work. It's also still mostly brown, but we did meet a few clouds of gnats and, off in the distance, saw a large flock of geese. They weren't going anywhere, but flocking in a sizable number high up in the sky. At times like that I think of The Birds.

Mild Winter Walk

It wasn't exactly warm on Saturday, but it was above freezing and sunny. Compared to what February could be, and usually is, a fine day for a walk. My route took me within sight of Busse Lake, which is part of the Ned Brown Forest Preserve.

The white on the blue is ice. In more normal winters, ice fishing happens on the lake. I doubt that there's been any at all this year.

It's still very much winter, though. The trees are still waiting. A warm winter isn't enough to get them to leaf.

Winter hasn't been harsh, but spring won't be any less welcome for all that.

A Precious Few

Fine weather for the equinox and the weekend just past. So on Saturday we had to go somewhere for a walk. Such as the Poplar Creek Forest Preserve. It has the largest field of goldenrod I've ever seen.

Very late in the evening on Sunday, cool wind blew in, along with rain. It's been raining on and off since then, creating cold puddles and the first large scattering of leaves we've had this year, though most of the foliage is still green and hanging on.

Rainy days aren't necessarily melancholy. I'll bet the recent rains in Texas were happy rains, considering how bad the drought has been. But today's rain, here in the cooling North, had a melancholy vibe. Summer's gone. Pack it away. Get out your jackets and coats. Blink and January will be here.

Just the kind of day to listen to one or more of the many versions of "September Song," such as this one by Sarah Vaughan. She also did a cover of "September in the Rain," but if you listen closely to the lyrics -- as I never did until today -- it's actually a fairly cheerful song.

Salt Creek in September

The stretch of the Salt Creek Trail near Mile 0 doesn't actually pass next to Salt Creek. To reach Salt Creek, you have to take one of the well-worn but unmarked dirt paths that people use mostly to access fishing spots. I didn't have fishing in mind on Saturday, but I did want to visit the creek again.

This is looking roughly east, toward the Arlington Heights Road bridge. The bridge in the distance looks small, but it's actually four lanes. Under and near the bridge, but hard to see, are a handful of people fishing.

Looking roughly west. Not far away is a dam that creates the main body of water in Busse Woods, which is popular with recreational fishermen too.

Dragonflies and other bugs flitted around the banks and the water. Near the far bank, a large turtle was sunning himself on a large rock poking out of the water. Elsewhere, ducks paddled by. Hard to believe this spot will be icy only three months from now.

Salt Creek Trail, Mile 0

I forget now who described meeting Eleanor Mondale, but he was a fellow in my high school English (?) class (senior year? That would put it in '78 or '79), and he was a casual, only-in-class acquaintance. I got the impression from what he said that their meeting didn't quite rise to the level of a "date," perhaps because of a persistent Secret Service presence. I don't remember the exact circumstances of the meeting, though if I had to guess I would say that his parents were locally important donors to the Democratic Party -- even in Alamo Heights, there must have been a few such.

Anyway, that's my Eleanor Mondale story, tenuous as it is. Hadn't heard anything about her in years, but it's never good news when you hear about someone dying at only 51 -- someone, in theory, you could have gone to school with.

It was finally warm again on Saturday, so I made my way to the Ned Brown Forest Preserve (Busse Woods) for some walking. But on pleasant Saturdays at Busse Woods, a walker like me shares the trail with a lot of people who have taken to their bicycles. I can't begrudge them space on the trail, but bicyclists whizzing by every other minute or so makes for a less relaxing stroll. So I walked down the Salt Creek Trail, which connects with the main trail at the Salt Creek Trail's Mile 0, but which doesn't attract nearly as many bike riders.

The scenery's pretty much the same as on the more crowded trail. This time of the year, that means a still-summer green tinged with goldenrod. The much-maligned goldenrod, taking the rap for ragweed pollen.

In some spots, a lot of goldenrod.

But that's not all. I don't know this species, but I like its looks.

Also, a few manmade items. Such as one of the more obscure plaques anywhere in the Chicago area.

Actually, the rock and its plaque aren't on the Salt Creek Trail, but on the main Busse Woods trail, very near the Mile 0 sign. The plaque bears the shield of the American Society of Civil Engineers, and says:

Illinois Section Outstanding Civil Engineering Achievement - 1986

Upper Salt Creek Watershed Floodwater Management Plan

I'm sure it was the crowning achievement of someone's career.

Items From the Past: Wong Tai Sin Temple and the Shing Mun Redoubt

On the afternoon of [April 10, 1994], we went to Wong Tai Sin Temple in Kowloon, a colorful, lively place. A weekend crowd was there and the air was smoky thick with burning joss. It is the first Taoist temple I've ever been to, though if I hadn't read about it beforehand, I'm not expert enough in Chinese religion to have known that.


The Main Altar of Wong Tai Sin Temple. According to Travel China Guide, "Many people who visit the temple come to have their fortunes told. Generally, worshippers entreat the fate of the same year. They light worship sticks, kneel before the main altar, make a wish, and shake a bamboo cylinder containing fortune sticks until one falls out."

Friday [April 15, 1994], found us on a short trip out to the New Territories. We spent part of the day walking a series of trails connected to the MacLehose Trail, "family walks" in the parlance of the Hong Kong park service. To get there, you take the subway to the end of the line at Tseun Wan, a major nexus of danchi and construction sites. From there, take a microbus to Shing Mun Country Park, a fine green spot around a reservoir dug in the '30s to supply the city. Hong Kong usually isn't associated with this kind of greenery. Almost no one else was there -- I don't associate a lack of crowds with the place either, but the park defied expectations. Maybe it's a different story on weekends.

We were under a double layer of shade: tall trees, and above that, a high thin layer of clouds. So the walking was cool. Later we did go on a section of the MacLehose Trail proper, Section 6, and hiked up a hill to the Shing Mun Redoubt, or what was left of it from the battle in '41. Still in evidence were long tunnels made of concrete, dug through the top of the hill. At their entrances are fanciful names -- London streets. Later generations have added graffiti to the ruins, and nature is slowly eating away at the concrete.


A fragment of the Shing Mun Redoubt along the MacLehose Trail, which snakes through the New Territories for about 60 miles. I'm not sure why I didn't take any photos of the overgrown concrete bunkers nearby.

Winterwalk

Other parts of the country might have had large blasts of snow so far this month, but here in northern Illinois we've only had snow showers. Still, they've added up, since temps never rose above freezing between New Year's Eve and MLK Day. So what to do on a long winter weekend afternoon? Take a walk in the Busse Woods Forest Preserve. With a camera.

Black-and-white seemed fitting for that neck of the woods. But through the magic of digital photography, it's easy enough to make the switch from B&W to color. There isn't a lot of color in a January forest preserve landscape, but there are subtle browns in the hibernating tall grass.

For some reason, the rest of my family declined to go with me. It's cold, of course, but once you've been walking for 10 minutes or so, it doesn't seem so bad, especially on a windless day like Saturday. The best thing about walking on the "bicycle path" was that there were no bicycles, like there would be any other time of the year.

I'm all for riding bicycles on forest preserve paths, but as a pedestrian it puts you on edge sometimes when, during a peaceful stroll among the leafy trees, a bike zooms within inches of you without so much as a bell-ring warning. Thus the unstated but wise rule for pedestrians on bike paths (and on sidewalks in Japan): no sudden lateral moves.

At two places the path crosses Higgins Road, a busy, four-lane thoroughfare that cuts the forest preserve roughly in half. The western crossing is at street level, but the eastern one is a steel bridge that arches up and over the road.

I had it all to myself.

Down Calumet Sag Way

Back again on June 1, after Memorial Day, Observed. Which happens to come the day after Decoration Day this year.

As usual, there's much to do before the weekend actually starts. This morning I drove down to a part of Cook County I don't visit often for a meeting and a fine lunch. Now I know a place in Orland Park that serves a terrific Reuben -- a fine balance between the corned beef and the sauerkraut. All too often the sauerkraut mugs the corned beef.

I also enjoyed a stretch of road I never knew existed, the part of Calumet Sag Road connecting La Grange Road with the Kingery Highway. It's a two- or three-mile section of Illinois 83, which is a major road through the thick of suburban Cook, DuPage and Lake counties. Calumet Sag Road roughly parallels the Calumet Sag Channel, site of a massive fish kill just now. The fish gave their fish lives so that the invasive Asian carp might be kept out of the Great Lakes. But the channel mostly isn't visible from the road.

The road is unlike any other part of Illinois 83 that I've driven. It's two lanes with a 55 mph speed limit, and for a while it's surrounded on both sides by the woods of the Cap Sauers Holdings Nature Preserve, which is so lush now that the trees nearly form a tree tunnel in places. Otherwise the sunshine was bright. There wasn't a lot of traffic. It was hard to believe I was in populous Cook County.

Poplar Creek Forest Preserve

In the six years or so that I've lived in northwest Cook County, Illinois, I've driven a lot of miles and spent a fair amount of time seeking out novel territory, much of it in far-away states and Canadian provinces. Yet I've never done anything more than drive past the Poplar Creek Forest Preserve, a unit of the Forest Preserve District of Cook County. Poplar Creek is an enormous piece of undeveloped land, 4200 acres, only about a ten-minute drive from my house, and features about nine miles of trails -- something I hadn't realized either until I took a close look at a map of the place recently.

With the weather fine, I decided on Wednesday to finally get around to taking a walk at Poplar Creek, even though I had plenty else to do. I started just shy of the Mile 4 marker off Bode Road and walked to the Mile 3 marker at the edge of Bode Lake South, and then back. I actually remembered to take a camera.

A steady trickle of leaves dropped from trees along the walkway, but large parts of the terrain were browning grasses. Late-season grasshoppers and crickets made noise and sluggishly crossed my path. For minutes at a time, the only other reminders of people were the pavement of the path itself and the low background din of traffic, impossible to escape at any time in this part of the world, though a handful bicyclists, joggers and walkers passed me by as well.

A hulking willow tree grows near the Mile 3 marker, along the shore of South Bode Lake. This is it, a mix of yellow and green at this exact moment in the year.

The Nearest Dutch Windmill to My House Isn't Far

There's a Dutch windmill at the Fabyan Forest Preserve along Illinois 25 in Kane County. It's impossible to miss from the road, but in all the years I've driven this route -- one or two times a year, probably -- I've never stopped for a good look. That was my ambition on Sunday. We were planning to go the Sunday before, but persistent thunderstorms changed our minds.

Actually, there was a thunderstorm early in the morning this Sunday, too, but things cleared up before long. By around noon, we arrived at the site. This is the windmill. It only looks crooked in this photo. It's evenly placed on the ground, but from down the hillside, it looks like it's leaning:

It's as if you were teleported to Holland, standing in front of the thing. But Dutch style is the more correct way to describe it, since in fact the structure was built in DuPage County, Illinois, in the 1850s. It stood in a rural spot then, destined to be the western suburbs of Chicago 100 years later. Different sources say that Dutch or German immigrant craftsmen originally built the thing, but whatever the case, it's got that Netherlander vibe.

One George Fabyan, more about whom later, fancied the windmill in the early 1910s and had the wherewithal to have it moved, piece by piece, and reconstructed at its present location on a rise overlooking the east bank of the Fox River. During his lifetime in the early 20th century, it remained the same working windmill, a grain-grinding location, that it had been in DuPage; now it's a cool little museum. The kind of museum I consider cool, anyway, and as a bonus to us contemporary visitors, restored to fine shape by Dutch windmill craftsmen in the early 2000s.