During our Saturday walk at Spring Valley Nature Sanctuary, we wandered into the Illinois Heritage Grove, which is section of the sanctuary devoted to native woody plants. A mini-arboretum.
The last time I spent any time there was in the fall, when things looked a bit different: 
Summer. Roughly the same view of part of the oval path through the grove.
For now, the grove’s bushes and trees are garbed in greenery. Such as the American plum (Prunus americana).
The hackberry (Celtis occidentalis).
The elderberry (Sambucus canadensis).
Remember, your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries.
Category Archives: Parks
Ottawa Sights (Not the One in Canada)
We arrived in Ottawa, Illinois, on Saturday in time for lunch. We decided on carry-out from Thai Cafe on Columbus St., which seems to be the only Thai joint in town. At a population of 18,000 or so, maybe that’s all Ottawa can support.
We took our food to Allen Park, a municipal park on the south bank of the Illinois, and found a picnic shelter. The river’s large and on a weekend in July, home to a lot of pleasure craft.
Sometimes, the river must be angry, such as on April 19, 2013. Got a lot of rain in northern Illinois about then, so I believe it.
Downstream a bit is the Ottawa Rail Bridge, which rates a page in Wikipedia. The current bridge dates from 1898, though it was modified in 1932.
Two large metal sculptures rise in the park, both by Mary Meinz Fanning. The red one is “Bending.”
The yellow one is “Reclining.”
“Fanning was the driving force behind the creation of the red and yellow steel sculptures at Allen Park by the Illinois River in Ottawa,” says a 2010 article in The Times, which seems to be a local paper.
“The 40-foot-tall sculptures, which weigh 17 tons each, were erected in 1982 and 1983 from parts of the 1933-built steel girder Hilliard Bridge that was demolished in 1982 to make way for the present-day Veterans Memorial Bridge. Fanning died of illness Nov. 4, 1995, in Ottawa at age 48.”
Just as you enter the park, you also see a wooden sculpture: one of artist Peter Toth’s “Whispering Giants,” which I’d forgotten I’d heard of till I looked him up again. The one in Allen Park is Ho-Ma-Sjah-Nah-Zhee-Ga or, more ordinarily, No. 61.
Looked familiar. I realized I’ve seen one before —
That one is Nee-Gaw-Nee-Gaw-Bow or No. 59, and we saw it by chance in Wakefield, Mich. about three years ago. Apparently the artist has put up at least one in each state.
Ottawa has a place in U.S. history mainly for two things. One that the town is happy to celebrate: the first Lincoln-Douglas debate in 1858. The other is the awful story of the Radium Girls, poisoned by luminous paint at a clock factory in Ottawa in the early 20th century. For a long time, there was no public acknowledgment of that incident. Now there is. But I didn’t know the Radium Girls have a statue in town (since 2011), so we missed that.
We didn’t miss the site of the Lincoln-Douglas debate, which is in the shady, square-block Washington Park.
Lincoln and Douglas are there as part of a fountain to memorialize the event. They were cast in bronze in 2002 by Rebecca Childers Caleel.
It would have been more pleasant if the fountain were on, but maybe it was dry for public health reasons in our time. The noontime heat was oppressive, so we didn’t have a leisurely look-around the area as much as we might have otherwise. There are other memorials in the park, and plenty of historic structures nearby, forming the Washington Park Historic District.
Those buildings include the Third District Appellate Court Building (1850s), the Reddick Mansion (1850s), the Ottawa First Congregational Church (1870), Christ Episcopal Church (1871), and a Masonic Temple (1910). A few blocks away, the LaSalle County Courthouse looked interesting, too, but we only drove by.
I managed to take a close look only at the former Congregational Church building.
Gothic Revival in brick. These days, the church is part of the Open Table United Church of Christ.
Springfield Park
Another few days, another late afternoon walk around a suburban pond. The strolls might be merging into one warm green blur already. They certainly will after the passage of time.
The walk this time was at Springfield Park, which isn’t in the capital city of that name, or any other Springfield, but instead in Bloomingdale, Illinois. It’s a village park with sports facilities, a community garden and a large pond with an irregular figure-8 trail around it. We walked about a mile and a half all together, at least according to my phone. Somehow that’s often the length.
In fact, it’s pretty much sports park on one side, open-water marsh on the other. With an adequate number of benches. You can’t always count on finding those.
Lots of July wildflowers, of course.
Views from the south end of the pond.
A boardwalk.
Wouldn’t be much of a suburban marsh without a boardwalk over the flora somewhere.
Gray Farm Park & Conservation Area
On Saturday, we had high heat and wall-of-water thick humidity. I woke to a bit of thunder on Sunday morning, followed mostly by drizzle. By Sunday afternoon, sunny conditions were back, but not so much heat. Or humidity. Chamber of commerce weather, as an old colleague of mine used to call it.
Today was a little hot for ideal c-of-c weather, but I like it. Cicadas have returned in the late afternoons, followed by just a hint of crickets after dark. We still have fireflies.
One late afternoon last week we went to Gray Farm Park & Conservation Area, which is 47 acres tucked away off any main street here in the northwest suburbs. Even though it has a large water feature, I expect it’s mostly unknown except to nearby residents.
I know about it because I troll maps. The only kind of trolling I do. We entered the park from Cloverdale Lane, and then walked as far as the elementary school.
Much of the park is an open field, though some is a long pond edged by metal bracing.
The conservation area — which is mostly large open-water cattail marsh — is behind tall grass this time of year.
Though if you look carefully enough, you can find a path through the tall grass just behind the nearby elementary school. The path leads to a boardwalk.
The boardwalk dead ends before long, but it does offer a view of the much larger pond — the cattail marsh. A grassy view, but a view all the same.
I’ve read that Gray Farm is a good place for bird watching. But my impulse to watch birds doesn’t go much beyond, hey, that’s an interesting-looking bird. What’s it called? I don’t know either. Never mind.
Beavers Attack! Olde Schaumburg Centre Park
Tucked off a busy northwest suburban street is Olde Schaumburg Centre Park. We were there not long ago just before sunset. Here in July, days are noticeably shorter, though not that much shorter yet.
Though modest in scope, Olde Schaumburg Centre Park is a pleasant green space in the summer, and a lush wetland and wildlife preserve besides. The focus is a pond. That’s the wetland part of the equation.
There are trails and a gazebo. Schaumburg wouldn’t be a proper suburb without a public gazebo.
Plus flourishes of flowers.
As for being a wildlife preserve, we saw clear evidence of beavers in the area.
Doing what beavers do. Gnaw marks appeared on other trees, though no others were toppled. Does the village consider beavers a nuisance? They do seem to be attacking park trees, which take a long time to grow, but then again they might be a protected species in these parts.
The animals are a village concern, because the park is village property, not part of the Schaumburg Park District — something I didn’t realize until recently, despite all the years I’ve driven past the park.
The park is also part of a formally designated area called Olde Schaumburg Centre, which is an historic district: the OSC Overlay District, established in 1978. Much information about that and early Schaumburg has been published by the village community development department.
In the mid-19th century, the small farm village that would become a major Chicago suburb was known as Sarah’s Grove. Later, German farmers came in numbers, and Schaumburg schall et heiten!
The name Sarah’s Grove lingers. The subdivision across the street from in Olde Schaumburg Centre Park is called Sarah’s Grove, and so is a park district park near the subdivision.
It too focuses on a water feature, but without many trees or thickets.
Though no one was there at that moment, I see people fishing at the pond pretty often.
Nike Park, Addison
What do I get for reading the likes of Atlas Obscura? Ideas about obscure places to go. Or to stop if I’m already nearby, because naturally some places are worth seeing, but not worth going to see, to paraphrase Dr. Johnson.
Not long ago I was near Nike Park in west suburban Addison, so I dropped by. It’s accessible via a short street tucked between two light industrial properties and lined with trucks, and as a park, it isn’t much to write about. At about seven acres, the park has a small baseball field, playground, picnic table and a portable toilet.
There’s also this.
To quote Atlas Obscura: “Once part of a larger Nike Missile complex (Nike C-72), the Nike Park land was given over to the Addison Park District after the missiles, launchers, and most of the equipment was removed, and the site decommissioned.
“Unfortunately, no evidence of the launch site exists any longer, as it now part of the Fullerton County Forest Preserve. The radar installation and control tower located on the northwest end of the base, however, still stand in what is now Nike Park…”
As a Cold War relic, worth seeing, but not going to see, I’d say.
Effigy Mounds National Monument
Another holiday weekend, another pop up to Wisconsin for a short spell. Actually, Wisconsin and a small slice of Iowa — that being the main goal of the trip: Effigy Mounds National Monument, which is mostly in Allamakee County, Iowa’s northeastern-most county.
The 50-hour trip took us to Madison on Thursday evening to spend the first night, and from there to Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin and environs, where we stayed from late morning Friday to early afternoon Saturday. We returned home late Saturday afternoon, in time for Vietnamese takeout dinner at home — and to hear a July 4 neighborhood blasting of fireworks like none I’ve heard before.
Why Effigy Mounds and Prairie du Chien? Because I’ve seen those places on maps for years. I’ve read about them as well, of course, but spots on a map can be alluring in a way no mere textual description is. Come here, the spots say; come see what’s here.
Also, the rolling, verdant Driftless Area is a special place. I’ve only come to appreciate it in recent years.
A road trip at this moment in history is necessarily different than before. Gone for now are casual meals at restaurants picked on a whim, visits to intriguing local museums or wandering down busy small-town shopping/tourist streets and spending time in their specialty stores.
Now the trip means takeout — from the only Chinese restaurant in Prairie du Chien, for example — finding places where few people go (such as cemeteries) and generally spending your time outdoors, as we did on the trails of the national monument and a Wisconsin state park.
Or staying in your room. It so happened that on Friday night, some high school-vintage friends (two in this picture) invited me to a social Zoom, and I managed to figure out how I could attend using my phone. We had a good time.
We arrived at Effigy Mounds NM early Friday afternoon. Temps were high, about 90, and we were warned on a sign that the trail from the (closed) visitors center to the first fork involved a rise of about 350 feet.
I can’t say I wasn’t warned. Up we went.
The shade moderated the heat some. I wore a hat — one I’d bought at Joshua Tree NP in February, where it was just as sunny but not as hot. I had water. I made progress through the winding green tunnels, resting often. Yuriko was soon far ahead.
Eventually I could tell I was near the crest of the hill.
I don’t need a sign to tell me that. By that point, I was well tired. Just another thing I should have done 20 (30) years ago. Still, the vista was worth the effort: a view of the Mississippi, looking southeast, from a spot called Fire Point. Prairie du Chien is in the distance.
Due east: party boats gathered on the river for July 3.
Besides a nice vista, Fire Point featured a collection of mounds. Larger —
— and a row of smaller ones.
Something inspired the peoples who lived here to reshape the ground into recognizable forms. Recognizable, but you need to squint a little. Not nearly as recognizable in simple photos, unfortunately.
Not far from Fire Point is Great Bear Mound. Probably best visible from above, though park management helpfully trimmed the grass to make the shape a little easier to see from ground level, and you do see it — but it’s also good to bring a little historical imagination to the task. (As it is even in highly visible places.)
I expect these mounds survived farming and other depredations of the 19th century because the land was too steep to farm or even harvest timber. President Truman created the monument, which protects 206 mounds, in 1949.
“The Late Woodland Period (1400-750 B.P.) along the Upper Mississippi River and extending east to Lake Michigan is associated with the culture known today as the Effigy Moundbuilders,” notes the NPS. “The construction of effigy mounds was a regional cultural phenomenon. Mounds of earth in the shapes of birds, bear, deer, bison, lynx, turtle, panther or water spirit are the most common images…
“The Effigy Moundbuilders also built linear or long rectangular mounds that were used for ceremonial purposes that remain a mystery. Some archeologists believe they were built to mark celestial events or seasonal observances. Others speculate they were constructed as territorial markers or as boundaries between groups.”
Why did Moundbuilders build mounts? The answer is dunno even among modern experts. They had their reasons. The mists of time are pretty thick in the hills of the Driftless Area.
Fabbrini Park
Yesterday after dinner we headed over to Joseph L. Fabbrini Park for a walk around its large ponds. As part of the Hoffman Estates Park District, it isn’t that far from where we live, but even so we go there only about once a year.
When the girls were smaller, we took them to this park more often, for its extensive playground equipment. It was known as Highpoint Park back then. When was the name changed? Who was Fabbrini? A plaque on a boulder near the park entrance, facing away from the setting sun when I saw it, told me: 2015 to answer the first question; a founder of the park district for the second.
Besides the playgrounds and a walking/running path around the water features, the park also features a soccer field and a softball field, a place for volleyball, and tennis courts and pickleball courts. Lilly pointed out the pickleball courts. It isn’t anything I’ve ever played, or was more than vaguely aware of, but she played it in school.
Naturally, I had to look it up later. I didn’t get much further than this site. It tells us — breathlessly — that “as the fastest growing sport in the United States and gaining momentum around the world, you’ve either become hooked on Pickleball or are about to be!”
Nah. Beyond the sports facilities are nice views of the ponds.
As the path takes you around. We walked a total of about 1.8 miles around both ponds.
Enormous trees tower over the ponds in some places. Willows, especially.
The dog was more interested in flora closer to the ground.
A light snack for her.
Spring Valley Flowers, June ’20
After dinner yesterday, we went to Spring Valley (in full, Spring Valley Nature Center & Heritage Farm). Temps had been about 90 during the afternoon, but were down by early evening. Our goal was the peony field. It blooms only for a few days.
Plenty of other flora along the walk to the field. No surprise this time of year.
We arrived at the field to find not many peonies blooming just yet. But there were some in front of the nearby cabin.
We saw many more buds ahead of a full bloom.
Guess the ants get some sustenance from the flower, without bothering it too much.
Salado Creek Greenway, February 2015
Late February’s a good time to visit South Texas. Five years ago, during a trip to San Antonio, I was even able to enjoy some outdoor greenery. Just budding, but there.
I took a walk along part of the Salado Creek Greenway.
Any day in February when you can wander out in the non-freezing air is a good one. At least for us Northern Hemisphere, Temperate Zone dwellers. Roughly above the 40th parallel, that is. How’s that for overqualifying? Never mind, it was a good walk.
Speaking of latitude, the Tobin Trailhead of the Salado Creek Greenway is —
— at exactly 29.51512 N (and 98.42812 W).