If there's one natural area I love to visit on a semi-regular basis, that is Revis Hill Prairie in Mason County. I always see something new, no matter when I go. (My regular readers know this, because they've been reading about it since the last days of June.) I decided, one recent Saturday afternoon, to run up to Mason County and see what I could find. It would turn out that I found quite a bit!
The populations of burrowing wasps had gone down, but I still found this colorful fellow among the sand and gravel of the path. I have no clue what species it is, but it certainly is vibrant.
The hill prairies give way below to harvested crop fields, stretching out to the Sangamon River's floodplain forests beyond. The prairie itself, dry and crunching under my feet, cloaked the hill in tan grasses. This particular section is just west of the big house on the north side of the road.
I don't know what dug this burrow (possibly Pocket Gophers), but I suspect that it'd be a good place to find snakes hiding. I didn't see any, and I haven't seen any in the last two months, but nevertheless I still suspect this of being an excellent hiding spot for snakes.
Several different asters. including this Heath Aster (Symphyotrichum ericoides) bloomed among the grasses. Asters have recently been moved taxonomically from genus Aster to the six-syllable lockjaw of Symphotrichium, at the behest of some taxonomists. I prefer the simplicity of the name Aster, and while the taxonomists may have had good reasons, I wish they would have used a simpler word.
As usual, however, the best part of Revis Hill Prairie is the views. While it may not be the most easily accessible spot, Revis has spectacular scenery. Even the road at its base has a good view of the lands to to the south. It's somewhat a pity that it's all farm-fields. If it was restored prairie, this would be even better than it is now.
By the way, I do reserve the rights to all images.
I went to the meadow on the far side of the big house on the north side (the main landmark here). This is the one with the exposed loess (windblown dirt) cliff:
After getting through the thorny brush at the base on a faint, barely-visible trail, I pulled my way up the hill, hand and foot. Why, might you ask, had I come to this high, lonely hill?
For once, it's not a bird! Here it is:
This is the Great Plains Ladies' Tresses Orchid (Spiranthes magnicamporum). Most people associate orchids with the tropics, and the majority do grow in wet tropical rainforests, often in trees. This species is a contrarian of the orchid family. Growing in dry, short grasslands in temperate areas, the Great Plains Ladies' Tresses Orchid is one of Illinois's more common orchids, although that means it's still a rare find. Look for them in dry, short areas or along paths in old relict prairies and fields.
One of the last plants to bloom, these can bloom well into November (and, based on the weather this year, these might). I found three of them after about ten minutes of searching, and I'm sure there were more hidden nearby. They're only about six inches high, so finding them is a struggle. However, for a plant lover like me, any orchid, especially in Illinois, is worth the work.
For comparison, here's the path I found them along. I've read the opinion that orchids, like people, choose the most beautiful spots to reside, and that seems true in this case:
These orchids, if you smell them, have a strong, pleasant fragrance. However, please don't pick them. Here at Revis, they are legally protected, but even elsewhere, any species of orchid is rare enough in Illinois that it should be protected.
While many have thought that I'm mostly a birdwatcher (and that seems true if you look at the past six months) I can assure you that plants are my first interest. I've just seen most of the common ones, and I haven't done that as much with birds before this year.
After several minutes, I looked back around, and appreciated the view once more, before making my way down the bank and back to my car. There's no easy way up or down here. It's all a scramble up and a controlled fall back down into the brush and then through the brush to my car.
Alright, now it's duck time. I went on from here to Emiquon Preserve in Fulton County, a much less strenuous place for nature excursions, provided you don't accidentally trespass.
Thousands of ducks and coots congregated at the marsh on the southern end of Emiquon's Lake Thompson, with a few Great Egrets (Ardea alba) striding amongst them.
Well off, and distorted by the humidity, I spotted a few Northern Pintails (Anas acuta), noted for their brown heads, white necks, and identifiable pointed tails. I had only ever seen one in the wild before. Other birds identified in the foreground are Northern Shovelor (Anas clyptea) and American Coot (Fulica americana), both far more common this day than the Northern Pintails.
Intermixed with all of these were large flocks of Blue and Green -winged Teals (Anas discors) (Anas carolinensis), especially Green-winged Teal.
Behind all of these, where the marsh opened onto the lake, were thousands of American Coots. I believe there were several thousand at a minimum on this lake on this single day!
Moving further up, I spotted some American White Pelicans (Pelecanus erythrorhynchos) For only having seventy-odd nesting sites in the world, these big birds do seem to get about during migration!
I then decided to hike the reopened pathway show on this map below:
I spotted a few Red-winged Blackbirds (Agelaius phoeniceus) in the trees on my way:
In the lake, a few Northern Shovelers lazily watched me, slowly drifting a bit further out into the water as I approached.
The Blue-winged Teal disdained my company and departed for other waters:
At the top bend in the trail, the lake opened up in front of me, and all I could see was coots!
On shore, a few hundred blackbirds called from the bushes.
The coots rose as one body as I and another walker approached. He came to them faster and closer than I did, so they were spooked and took off, as did most birds after that.
Nearby, a number of Green-winged Teals and Northern Pintails foraged, far enough away that they didn't seem to be bothered by any walkers.
The other man's walking did disturb this Killdeer (Charadrius vociferus) and Calidris sp. sandpiper before I could get better photos. I think this is a Least Sandpiper, but that is uncertain.
Thankfully, while unsuccessfully trying to locate the sandpipers, I found something watching me, which the other walker had not disturbed:
They vanished as quickly as they had come, but at least I had been the one to see them!
Thompson Lake, meanwhile, did not leave, and so I admired it for a bit.
A row of dead trees, used for nesting by some local birds, lingered out on the lake, relicts of a time before, when this natural area was farmland. It was only converted into a wetland ten years ago, and with the numbers of rare or unusual birds etc. here, it wasn't a day too soon.
I walked back by the coots again, who had clumped together:
Despite their apperance, coots are not actually ducks, but rails. Not like steel rails, but as in the group of birds known as rails for no reason I have discerned. This is Illinois' most common rail, in fact:
Suddenly, the coots scattered as a dark shape flew overhead. Osprey! (Pandion haliaetus)
I have no idea what this is, but it looked interesting, as it had a yellow belly. It's probably a Phoebe.
A dark shape flew past me as I walked on the levee, and I realized that it was a Northern Harrier (Circus cyaneus), a fairly uncommon species of hawk in Central Illinois. State-Endangered, Northern Harriers are usually prairie birds, but they move along the Illinois River wetlands during migration.
This was a juvenile, as its rusty-red/tan coloration indicated. I tried to get a better picture, but there were too many willows and it moved too fast. The white rump above is a clear sign of the bird's identity, as was its low flight style, just skimming over the tops of marshland bushes.
While looking around in those bushes, I stumbled upon a mysterious sparrow, which I believe is a Savannah Sparrow (Passerculus sandwichensis) (named for Savannah, Georgia, where they were first found). I've never seen one outside of the bird banding station before.
From disappointments at Chautauqua, I moved on to Sand Ridge State Forest. It was too late for birds, and the sun was nearly setting as I arrived. I popped out of the car, however, and found these puffball fungi growing on a nearby log. A few minutes later, I called it a day, and went to leave.
Leaving was a rather complicated procedure, and I stumbled across the parking lot, where the setting sun's rays poured through the pine needles, illuminating the dust in the air:
This effect isn't a camera trick, I actually saw this with my eyes, and it was an amazing semi-ending to a mixed-bag of a day. The day wasn't finished yet, as I went down a road with only one lane and sandy soil for pavement as I attempted to leave. I then took a wrong turn and ended up in Tazewell County before pulling off completely, setting up my GPS, and heading home. Lesson learned- don't go trying new routes when your supper is on the table!
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