What a wild first half of summer it’s been! Between the lack of rain, poor air quality from wildfire smoke, and stretches of intense heat, it’s hard to predict what each new day will bring. Yet despite these challenging conditions, nature continues to flourish in remarkable ways.
If you’re curious about what’s been happening outdoors, I hope you’ll join me on a quick virtual stroll through nature!
Our lawns may be looking a little brown, crispy, and tired after this summer’s lack of rain. That’s because the most common turfgrasses found in our yards originated in Europe, Asia, and North Africa. While they’re well suited for manicured lawns, they simply aren’t adapted to Wisconsin’s weather extremes the way our native plants are.
If you’ve hiked through a prairie lately, you’ve probably noticed just the opposite. The grasses are lush and green, and wildflowers are bursting into bloom. A field of flowers may not look particularly rugged, but prairies are among the most resilient ecosystems on Earth. They have evolved to withstand severe drought, flooding, fire, and countless other challenges while continuing to thrive. Just take a look at the intricate beauty of this rattlesnake master flower head up close. Beneath that delicate appearance is a plant perfectly adapted to life on the prairie.
Just the other day, my sister-in-law who lives out in Seattle found a peculiar feather on the ground. Naturally, she sent a photo of it to me and my wife, who love answering nature-related questions. It was dark brown with a beautiful reddish-pink color (pictured above on the left). Having found a similar feather roughly 18 years ago during an internship in the Idaho wilderness, I knew exactly the species that dropped that feather (my wife did, too).
The feather came from a woodpecker called a Northern flicker, or more specifically, a red-shafted Northern flicker. What’s interesting about flickers is that if you are on the western half of the U.S., all of the flickers have reddish feathers. If you’re on the Eastern half, they’re all yellow! I sent her a photo of a yellow-shafted Northern flicker feather that I had found here in Wisconsin.
Scientists believe diet plays a big role in these differing colors since, genetically, these red and yellow flickers are almost identical. It’s believed that the pigment found in the red berries of non-native honeysuckle out West are consumed more, leading to reddish feathers.
While taking a stroll along Black Earth Creek just the other day, I noticed some small patches of milkweed. Normally when I come across milkweed, I take a closer look and search for monarch caterpillars. While I didn’t find any monarchs, I did discover some oval ambersnails (pictured above). I knew we had snails in Wisconsin, but I normally see them in the water. I hadn’t realized that we actually have air-breathing land snails!
Apparently, oval ambersnails are native to Wisconsin along with the 100+ other native land snail species! This may be common knowledge for many, but I was so excited to learn this. While they can be found inching along plants on land, they prefer wet environments and are often found near bodies of water.
Lastly, I’ll leave you with this creature of nightmares. I love insects, but when I come across one that looks like this, something deep within just tells me to stay away and forget I ever saw it. What’s scarier is that it’s called a “house centipede.” I’m guessing that they didn’t get their name because they are primarily found out in forests …
I’ll admit that after researching them, I feel just a little better (like, a really small amount). Apparently, house centipedes are known for effective pest control in homes and primarily feed on cockroaches, silverfish, carpet beetles, bedbugs, and spiders.
Well, I hope you enjoyed this month’s virtual tour of nature as it’s happening. See you next month!
What a temperature swing we’re having this week! Last week’s highest temps (~75 degrees F) are this week’s forecasted lowest nighttime temps, so instead of encouraging you to get outside, I think I might hold off until this extreme heat advisory has lifted.
In the meantime, I hope you’ll take a few minutes (preferably in a cool room with a fan blowing) to join me on a virtual tour to see what’s happening outside your window!
Despite the summer heat, nature continues to thrive. If you visit a local prairie this time of year, you just might stumble upon one of its best-kept secrets: a perfectly crafted bird nest tucked away among the grasses. That happened to me recently while visiting Patrick Marsh with our summer Prairie Partners interns.
We’re currently in the heart of the grassland bird nesting season. Although field sparrows aren’t technically considered grassland birds, they often build their nests and raise their young in prairies and other grassy habitats. The tiny eggs, each no larger than a jellybean, were carefully hidden among the stems. It was such a joy to discover this little nest and a wonderful reminder of how much life is quietly unfolding all around us.
Summertime also means it’s seed collection season! In preparation for our annual prairie plantings, we begin collecting native seed in the spring and continue through late fall. One of the first native cool-season grasses to produce seed is porcupine needlegrass, so we have to gather it before the seeds all fall to the ground.
Porcupine needlegrass has a fascinating adaptation that allows it to plant itself. Each pointed seed is attached to a long, twisted structure called an awn. As the seed dries after falling from the plant, the awn twists and untwists in response to changes in humidity, gradually corkscrewing the seed into the soil. In the photo above, you can see porcupine needlegrass on the day it was collected (left) and again a few days later (right), after the awns had dried and curled into tight spirals.
When it’s time to plant these seeds, I’ll carefully snip off the awns and hand-plant them in areas where they’re most likely to thrive. It’s a tedious process, but seeing this beautiful grass become established in a new prairie makes every minute worthwhile.
Those little tadpoles you’ve been seeing along the edges of ponds have grown legs and are beginning their lives on land! I was recently visiting a friend who has a small backyard pond that’s home to all sorts of fascinating wildlife.
As we walked around the pond, we noticed dozens of tiny, black, insect-like creatures hopping through the grass. At first, I thought they were little crickets because of their size and color. But after taking a closer look, I realized they were actually tiny new toads! They were no bigger than my fingernail and were making their first journey away from the water. It was such an unexpected and delightful discovery, and a wonderful reminder that some of nature’s greatest surprises come in the smallest packages.
Lastly, I’ll leave you with this adorable little gray treefrog that we found during a recent volunteer workday at Westport Prairie. This tiny amphibian looked like it had been waiting all morning for a photo shoot. With its little arms folded beneath it and what appeared to be a satisfied smile, it was impossible not to grin right back. Encounters like this are just one of the many reasons I love spending time outdoors.
Well, I hope you enjoyed this month’s virtual tour of nature as it’s happening. See you next month!
Spring is in full swing, and with so much happening outdoors right now, it’s hard to decide what to highlight in this month’s nature report. One thing that stands out immediately, however, is the dawn chorus that wakes me up around 4:30 a.m. Each morning, it sounds as though thousands of birds are singing right outside my window.
Robins and cardinals tend to steal the show early on, but if you listen closely, you’ll also hear chickadees, nuthatches, blue-gray gnatcatchers, and the occasional mourning dove, depending on where you live. The chorus is wonderfully loud and serves as a welcome reminder that spring has truly arrived.
I hope you’ll take a few minutes to join me on a tour to see what else is happening outside your window!
Robins aren’t just filling the mornings with song. They’re also busy incubating eggs, feeding hungry chicks, and preparing for the next nesting attempt. A single robin pair can raise two or even three broods during the spring and summer, so while you may already be seeing first-year juvenile robins hopping around your yard, other robins are still laying eggs and starting the cycle anew.
This becomes evident when you begin noticing bits of bright blue eggshell scattered throughout your neighborhood. While some eggs are taken by predators and consumed away from the nest, many of the eggshells you find were actually carried away by the mother robin after her chicks hatched. Once the eggs have served their purpose, the shells become a liability. Without the mother sitting on the nest to conceal them, their vibrant blue color can attract the attention of predators. By removing the shells, the robin helps keep her nest and newly hatched chicks hidden from danger.
If you head outside right now, you might also spot one of my favorite prairie flowers in full bloom. Prairie smoke is a wonderfully odd plant that grows in prairies, open woodlands, and other dry, rocky habitats. As the flowers mature, they give rise to the wispy, plume-like structures that inspired the plant’s common name. These feathery plumes help the seeds catch the wind and disperse across the landscape.
I’m not sure if you remember the treasure troll dolls that were inexplicably popular for what felt like an eternity, but they had brightly colored hair that stood straight up and ended in a point (similar to the flower). Every time I see prairie smoke in bloom, I can’t help but think they are the treasure trolls of the prairie, and it makes me smile.
While hiking at Patrick Marsh recently, I was excited to find several patches of wild lupine blooming in a prairie that was planted about five years ago with the help of students from Patrick Marsh Middle School. Wild lupine has always held a special place in my heart because of its connection to the Karner blue butterfly, a federally endangered species.
Before joining the Groundswell team, I worked for the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service, where I helped restore prairies and oak savannas by planting large quantities of wild lupine seed. The goal was simple: create habitat for Karner blue butterflies and help support their recovery.
Part of what makes these butterflies so vulnerable is their remarkable dependence on wild lupine. As caterpillars, they feed exclusively on lupine leaves. Without this plant, the butterflies cannot complete their life cycle. There are countless fascinating facts about Karner blues, and not nearly enough room in this nature report to cover them all, so I encourage you to look them up and learn more about their unusual relationship with ants and their unique life cycle.
Lastly, I’ll leave you with this humble blob of mud. I found it, along with several others like it, while trout fishing in Black Earth Creek. The only reason it caught my attention was because I remembered a hike several years ago when my wife, Carolyn, taught me about crayfish. She pointed out a few of these muddy structures and explained that they were actually the homes of crayfish.
These structures, known as crayfish chimneys, are built from mud excavated from underground burrows. They serve several important purposes, including protection from predators, improved airflow to the burrow below, and an emergency escape route. Many chimneys have a small opening at the top that functions much like a hatch, allowing air to circulate down into tunnels that can extend surprisingly deep underground, sometimes reaching depths of 18 feet.
Who would have thought that a little pile of mud could tell such an interesting story?
Well, I hope you enjoyed this month’s virtual tour of nature as it’s happening. See you next month!
April has been anything but predictable this year. In Madison, it was the rainiest April on record, with nearly 7 inches of rain. Across Wisconsin, 25 confirmed tornadoes touched down, matching the state’s annual average in a single month. Some communities were even pelted with baseball-sized hail! It’s been an intense start to the season, to say the least.
And yet, despite the chaos in the skies, nature’s calendar keeps turning. Pasque flowers have bloomed in the prairies, American robins are busy building their nests, and the chorus of spring peepers fills the evening air.
I hope you’ll take a few minutes to join me on a tour to see what else is happening outside!
One of my favorite signs of spring is finding this odd plant structure (pictured above) when out on a hike. At first glance, it looks like a flower with large, pinkish petals. In reality, it’s a newly opened bud from a Shagbark hickory tree. As the bud bursts apart, it reveals tender leaflets unfurling and stretching outward, ready to soak up the season’s first steady sunlight.
Hickories are a valuable native tree that provide an important food source for wildlife, including squirrels and deer. Their distinctive “shaggy” bark also creates natural crevices that offer roosting sites for bats seeking daytime shelter.
If you head outside right now, you might also notice ferns beginning to emerge. These fuzzy fiddleheads don’t quite resemble the familiar fern just yet, but in time they will unfurl into their full form. In early spring, some species—like the Cinnamon fern pictured above—produce a woolly, protective covering on their young fronds that helps insulate them against cold snaps. To me, they look almost ghostly or a bit ominous at first glance, but they always bring a sense of joy when I come across them in the wild.
While maple tapping season may be winding down for us, that won’t stop the Yellow-bellied sapsucker from doing what it does best. These unique woodpeckers drill neat rows of “sap wells” into birches, maples, and hickories, allowing the trees to ooze sap. The sapsucker then returns to these sites to feed on both the sap itself and the insects that become trapped in the sticky flow.
Other wildlife also takes advantage of this easy energy source. Hummingbirds, squirrels, and even bats have all been observed feeding at sap wells, especially during the early spring when other food sources are still limited.
Lastly, I’ll leave you with a rather eerie fungus I came across the other day at Patrick Marsh (pictured above). I could try to describe it in more detail, but its name, Devil’s urn, does a pretty good job on its own.
Despite appearing to sprout from the soil, the Devil’s urn is actually feeding on decaying buried hardwood roots and logs. In doing so, it plays an important role in breaking down dead organic material and recycling nutrients back into the forest.
It should come as no surprise that this fungus is not edible, so you may have to leave the Devil’s urn in the woods and settle for some deviled eggs instead.
Well, I hope you enjoyed this month’s virtual tour of nature as it’s happening. See you next month!
Over the past few weeks, Mother Nature has slowly stirred from her winter slumber. The earthy scent of skunk cabbage rises from the wetlands, frogs call out into the evening air, and woodcock dance across the sky in their annual spring displays. With each step outside, something new reveals itself, as if the landscape is waking up before our eyes. These familiar rhythms, returning year after year, bring a quiet comfort and a deep sense of renewal.
I hope you’ll take a few minutes to join me on a tour to see what’s happening outside!
Despite the lack of greenery on the landscape, there is still plenty of color painted throughout nature. While taking a walk through the primarily brown and gray woods, something vibrantly orange caught my my eye. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a fungus often referred to as orange jelly. With nighttime temperatures still pretty cold, it was surprising to see something so colorful and alive.
Apparently, this type of fungus grows on dead logs and helps with the decaying process. While it is edible, it (supposedly) has little to no taste.
Shooting star, maidenhair fern, spring beauty, and sky blue aster are all native plant species in Wisconsin that really lucked out in the naming department. Their names highlight characteristics that we, as humans, tend to associate with beauty and positivity. Then there is skunk cabbage (pictured above). The name alone tells you just about everything you need to know about our typical reaction to this plant. Words often associated with skunk cabbage include “odor,” “rotting meat,” and “unpleasant.”
While it’s true that skunk cabbage emits a rather pungent smell, it does so to attract pollinators like flies and beetles. Personally, I love skunk cabbage and look forward to finding it every spring. It has an almost otherworldly appearance, as if it belongs in the ocean on a coral reef. Its odd nature is exactly what makes it so special.
Whenever I see a turkey in a tree, especially a rather large turkey, I can’t help but laugh. There’s just something about it that doesn’t seem right. I never question a barred owl or a bald eagle perched in a tree. Perhaps it’s because turkeys are ground-nesters, or maybe it’s because I mostly see them walking along the edges of farm fields. I suppose if I saw a barred owl walking along a soybean field I would feel the same way.
Even though it may seem strange, turkeys spend almost every night roosting up in trees. They have poor night vision, so spending the night up in a tree protects them from nocturnal predators like coyotes, foxes, and even owls.
Lastly, I’ll leave you with a photo of a nighttime visitor that I feel incredibly lucky to have seen. It’s a southern flying squirrel that has been frequenting the tree in my front yard. I’ve shared this photo with quite a few people, and many didn’t realize that flying squirrels even live in Wisconsin, let alone on Madison’s east side.
My wife, Carolyn, first spotted it one night while filling our bird feeder. Since then, we’ve seen two or three flying squirrels almost every evening, skittering around the tree in search of sunflower seeds and peanuts. These remarkable little mammals can glide up to 100 feet and even make sharp turns mid-air to avoid obstacles.
Well, I hope you enjoyed this month’s virtual tour of nature as it’s happening. See you next month!
It’s hard to believe that just four weeks ago it was -18°F in Madison, with a wind chill hovering near -40°F, and this Friday is forecast to reach the 60s. What a wild winter it’s been! I’m not putting away my winter coat and mittens just yet, though. I have a feeling this warm week is just a tease, hinting at an early spring that may not quite be here to stay.
Now that it’s no longer painfully cold, I hope you’ll join me outside to see what nature is up to!
The blue snow has returned! Well, it had returned, until the recent warm weather melted it away. Thankfully, I was able to spot a few more patches out on the trail before they disappeared. I first discovered these odd colorful patches of blue snow while on a hike a couple years ago. I did a little research and found out that rabbits were the ones causing it, not Smurfs.
Throughout the winter, Eastern cottontails feed on the nutrient-rich stems of shrubs and young trees. One of their favorites is buckthorn, which contains a phytochemical that can turn rabbit urine blue after it’s exposed to sunlight. So tell your kids it’s not just yellow snow they need to watch out for!
| As the snow began to melt, I noticed these small interconnected lines. I’ve seen intricate cracks on the surface of frozen lakes, but this was different. I soon realized that these lines were actually tunnels created by rodents. Before the snow melted, these mouse highways would have been completely hidden from view.
In the photo above, there are small patches of bare ground where the snow has completely melted. These tunnels all lead to those patches, which makes me think those could be living spaces, or areas where the mice would congregate. |
While walking through a local park in my neighborhood, I noticed a natural area that was being managed. Sometimes when managing a woodland, undesirable trees are cut down and removed. Other times, they are girdled like the one in the photo above, and left standing. Leaving a dead tree standing might not sound like the best idea, but it can create excellent habitat for all sorts of wildlife, like woodpeckers and insects.
These deep chainsaw cuts are intended to restrict the flow of water and nutrients throughout the tree, ultimately leading to its death. This one, however, seemed to be doing just fine. If the cuts aren’t deep enough, a tree can sometimes seal over the wounds and recover. It may not survive in the long run, but it was remarkable to see just how resilient it was—especially seeing it covered in buds ready to sprout in spring.
Lastly, I’ll leave you with this squirrel that I saw the other day, which was doing something that I thought was quite strange. I watched the squirrel climb down from a tree, break off a piece of ice from a nearby frozen puddle, then carry the ice back up into the tree, where it began eating it. The squirrel did this a couple of times before scurrying away.
I had never really given much thought to how animals stay hydrated when their usual water sources are frozen. Like us, they need water to survive. When I saw this, the solution suddenly seemed so obvious—yet it also felt a little strange, simply because I had never witnessed it before.
Well, I hope you enjoyed this month’s virtual tour of nature as it’s happening. See you next month!
Brrr! What a wonderfully ‘Wisconsin’ winter we’ve had the last couple of weeks! The snow hasn’t immediately melted away after falling, we’re regularly getting single-digit temperatures, and yet somehow nature continues to thrive in these conditions.
While I have admittedly spent quite a bit of time indoors due to the cold, I did manage to get out a few times to experience nature (often in my backyard). Join me on a quick virtual stroll outside to see what I found!
I recently discovered that if you blow bubbles when the “feels like” temperature is -38 degrees F outside, they start to crystallize and will freeze before falling to the ground. I decided to test this out with my 8-year-old son in the backyard. But between the wind and an overly excitable dog named Lucy who loves eating bubbles, it wasn’t very easy to get the picture I imagined. Despite her sabotage attempts, I think Lucy made the picture even better!
If you zoom in on the bubble, you can see the ice crystals forming. Unfortunately, that bubble was gobbled up approximately half a second later, but you get the idea.
After the bubble experiment, we obviously moved on to the next one. Having such intensely cold weather is not very common, so it’s incredible to see what the temperature is capable of, especially when it’s too cold to actually go out for a hike.
If you click the thumbnail above, you’ll see a slow-motion video my son took of me throwing boiling water from a coffee mug. The water turns into vapor right away and floats off like a small cloud. Because boiling water is already close to turning into vapor, the tiny droplets spread out as they leave the mug. When they hit the extremely cold air, they evaporate almost instantly. This experiment will not work with cold water.
It’s very important to be careful if you try this yourself. You could easily burn yourself if the hot water is not thrown far enough away from your body.
I was only outside for a few minutes to blow bubbles and toss mugs of hot water before immediately running back inside. Meanwhile, the critters that live outdoors were simply going about their day. On the coldest days, moments like this remind me of nature’s resilience.
During cold snaps like this recent one, humans can get frostbite in 10 minutes or less if they stay outside too long. Yet, animals like the pileated woodpecker (pictured above) seem completely unaffected. Their ability to survive in these temperatures is nothing short of amazing, and it makes me respect our local wildlife even more!
A cozy rabbit home beneath the snow
Lastly, I’ll leave you with this cozy little cottontail home (pictured above) that I recently came across at Westport Prairie. When I see such a perfectly formed entrance, it’s hard not to anthropomorphize its inhabitants. I immediately picture a family of rabbits keeping warm beside a tiny fireplace in their den. While that scene is probably not playing out exactly that way, they are undoubtedly staying impressively warm inside despite the bitter cold outside.
Like those cottontails, I hope you’re keeping warm as well! Have a wonderful weekend, and I hope to see you outside when it’s a little warmer.
Cheers,
BJ
It’s hard to believe that another year has come and gone, but I’m more than ready for 2026! I’m looking forward to more ice fishing this winter, hearing woodcock “peent”-ing in the spring, watching monarch butterflies teeter among wildflowers in summer, crunching through freshly fallen leaves in autumn, and everything in between.
There’s so much to explore and experience in the year ahead, but for now, let’s take a moment to appreciate the present. Join me on a quick virtual stroll outside to see the beauty that’s unfolding right now.
If you enjoy the cold, and the sight of snow doesn’t stir feelings similar to those of Ebenezer Scrooge, you might agree that this winter has been pretty amazing so far. It truly feels like a Wisconsin winter, and I’m soaking up every bit of it.
Recently, we had a warm, foggy evening followed by a very cold night, which led to some fantastic hoarfrost (pictured above). These incredible ice formations form when water vapor in the air freezes, creating intricate and incredibly fragile crystals that coat nearly every surface. As the sun rose in the distance, I couldn’t stop taking photos, even though they hardly do justice to the beauty of the hoarfrost.
While lakes across southern Wisconsin are beginning to freeze over, there are still pockets of open water remaining. These areas attract geese, swans, and other waterfowl by the thousands. I recently visited the shore of Lake Mendota after hearing a chorus of honking, quacking, and bugling, and I was amazed by just how many migrating birds had gathered there.
Most notably were the tundra swans (pictured above), easily recognized by their inquisitive “who-who-who” calls echoing overhead. It truly feels like a privilege to live in a place where these birds pause during their long journey from the high Arctic of Alaska and Canada to their wintering grounds along the Mid-Atlantic Coast near the Chesapeake Bay.
One of my favorite parts of all the snow we’ve received so far is discovering little secrets in nature that might otherwise go unnoticed. While visiting Westport Prairie after a recent snowfall, I came across what looked like a tiny mouse highway winding across the snow’s surface (pictured above).
These tracks were likely left by deer mice or white-footed mice, both of which are known for hopping through the snow and dragging their long tails behind them as they move. If you look closely, you can see two small circles where the feet landed, with a thin line down the middle made by the tail.
Lastly, I’ll leave you with something I’ve been searching for every winter for as long as I can remember—and this year, I finally found one. It’s the snowy wing print of a hawk that had been hunting a small rodent. With so many mouse highways crisscrossing the snow, it seems like the perfect place for a predatory bird to hunt.
Over the years, several readers of my Nature Now reports have shared their own sightings of owl and hawk wing prints. Despite how much time I spend outdoors, I had never seen one myself until now. It felt like a fitting way to close out an adventurous year in nature, and I hope the new year brings many more memorable moments for us all.
Finding cool things in nature is easy; you just need to get outside. I’ll see you next year!
November flashed past like a crunchy leaf on a sudden gust of wind. It’s unfortunate for me, because November is my favorite month. It’s when the first snow whispers in, deer camp traditions unfold, great-horned owls raise their nighttime chorus, and waves of sandhill cranes sweep overhead.
But there’s so much more happening out in nature, so let’s take a virtual stroll and see what’s going on out there.
November delivered one of the most striking moon displays of the year: the Beaver Supermoon. Rivaling March’s Worm Moon for the most peculiar name, the Beaver Moon let us admire our favorite celestial stone at its closest, largest, and brightest point of the year.
The Beaver Moon’s name comes from the season’s natural rhythms. November is when beavers finish reinforcing their winter lodges and stocking them with food. Historically, it also marked the period when beaver trapping was most successful.
If you look out across the landscape and notice large plumes of smoke, you’ll know that prescribed fire season is here. Prescribed fire is often used this time of year to control unwanted plants. It also encourages the growth of native species that support biodiversity. It’s an effective land management tool that we use each season at Westport Prairie and Patrick Marsh.
Prescribed fires mimic a natural process that many ecosystems have adapted to over thousands of years. In fact, if you completely removed fire from the landscape, prairies would eventually disappear.
When I hear the word “evergreen,” my mind jumps straight to pines, spruces, and other needle-covered trees that hold onto their foliage all year. But, evergreens aren’t limited to trees. Some ferns, like the common polypody pictured above, are evergreen too.
As the name suggests, these plants keep their leaves green through every season. They pick up photosynthesis again in spring once the temperatures begin to rise.
I’ll leave you with these sandhill cranes soaring overhead. While standing in my backyard recently, I heard the bugling of hundreds of these majestic cranes in the distance. At first I couldn’t see them because they were so high up. Once they were in view, I was amazed to see how many there were!
Like many other bird species that visit Wisconsin, their stay is only temporary as they eventually flock south to warmer weather. This time of year is special because of the sheer number of cranes that pack up and head out before returning in the spring.
Finding cool things in nature is easy; you just need to get outside.
October brought crunchy leaves, frosty mornings, and skeins of honking geese overhead. I couldn’t think of a better time of year to be outside. As I sit here debating which piece(s) of my 8-year-old’s Halloween candy will best fuel my next outdoor adventure, let’s take a virtual stroll and see what’s happening outside right now.
Most leaves stay green for the majority of the year thanks to a pigment called chlorophyll. This green pigment allows plants to absorb sunlight and convert it into energy through photosynthesis. When the temperatures start to drop, the chlorophyll begins to break down. This reveals other pigments (carotenoids) hidden beneath the green and gives autumn leaves their beautiful yellow and orange colors.
The brilliant reds and purples we see in fall come from a different pigment called anthocyanin. This pigment forms in the fall when sugars become trapped in the leaves. Think of trees like sugar maple, red oak (pictured above), and sumac, which put on some of the season’s most vibrant displays.
While you’re out admiring the colorful leaves, take a moment to notice the bark on the trees, too. You might spot some interesting patterns, like the neatly drilled rows of holes made by yellow-bellied sapsuckers. These native woodpeckers are easy to recognize by their precise work, each tiny hole they make forms a straight line or even a perfect grid.
These holes, called “sap wells,” are just deep enough to let small amounts of sap flow out, which the woodpeckers drink. The sugary sap also attracts insects, providing an extra snack for the sapsuckers to feed on.
While out at Westport Prairie collecting prairie seed for our upcoming planting this year, I came across some brightly colored mushrooms. I had never seen these before and thought it was strange to see them in October. It seemed fitting that they were the color of a jack-o-lantern! These mushrooms are vermillion waxcaps and they do very well in dry, sandy prairies in the fall.
I’ll leave you with these turkey vultures hanging out on some exposed branches. Like a lot of other birds this time of year, turkey vultures are migrating in great numbers. Watch for them soaring overhead or taking the occasional break like the ones in my photo above.
Finding cool things in nature is easy; you just need to get outside.






































