|Oaks, grasses and forbs at Middlefork Savanna (Alex Wild)|
That morning I'd attended a Chicago Wilderness meeting held at Lake Forest Open Lands Association, quartered in what was the gatehouse of the old Armour estate. We met in a small adjacent building once used for washing carriages, now fitted up as a classroom full of nature-related accessories useful for teaching children. Beyond the gatehouse is a swath of beautifully restored prairie owned by Open Lands; beyond that, the Middlefork Savanna, a large acreage of forest preserve land that includes some of the finest oak savanna on the planet (literally). After the meeting, I indulged myself with pretty thoroughly exploring the place, on the the theory that I might not be back, though I hope I will.
The landscape could have been a mirage, except I was walking through it. Not only were there acres and acres of all the golden and purple flowers of late summer surrounding the North Branch but the place was full of life: bees, butterflies, green darner dragonflies (very numerous since they are on migration), woodpeckers, goldfinches and blue jays--the birds all getting very alert and hopping up on willows or other scattered trees to warn others that I was coming. It's funny how blue jays used to be just another common urban bird, and now, post West Nile virus they've been somewhat elevated.
There were also numerous ponds and wet areas, much more conspicuous than the river, especially since they are ringed with snags, many boasting a white egret sitting near the top. There's nothing like the sight of an egret stepping up into the air, floating delicately down across the path, grumbling the while, until it poises upright on a rock by the river to inspect a person walking by. Willows grow all along the river and ponds, narrow leaves making that little shuffling sound they do, softer than the watery clacking of their neighbors, the cottonwoods.
In such a landscape, so beautifully preserved and expanded through restoration, one could wander for hours. I suppose we are lucky that Armour, having made so much money on the backs of the immigrant workers in the meatpacking industry, chose to spend some of it on a large, choice piece of property. Thanks in part to the company he ran there, Chicago in the summer was to be escaped if at all possible. Lake Forest was a world away, then, a world of privilege. It still is: modern McMansions hem in the preserve. They loom, discordant piles of brick sitting in swards of incongruously smooth, green grass. Everything that Frank Lloyd Wright considered wrong with Midwestern architecture, especially in relation to the prairie, these houses embody, olde world faux chateaux mash-ups that they are. If you pay millions to have an overly large house with a view of a landscape like that, the least you could do would be to create a design in harmony with its surroundings. But then, I don't understand the perceived need for grand, or even extremely large, houses in general. Smallish, olde world faux cottages might have looked a little better, if only because not so dominantly ostentatious--more easily ignored, I suppose.
Still, this is a wonderful, almost hidden place, easy to get to, and open to the public. Anyone can simply walk in, look around, and stay for hours. Many very devoted people have spent time and effort to make and maintain this preserve. It is truly a jewel. The children who take nature classes there and the volunteers who help keep it going are privileged in the more genuine sense of being able to experience first hand a working ecosystem, and in understanding and appreciating its beauties. That afternoon, I felt privileged to be able to take a walk, in peace, flowers blooming and birds singing all around.
Note to my readers: This blog is written in my spare time (as they used to call it). Posts have always been infrequent and irregular, but generally I've been able to find, make or steal a few hours to spend outside, do research and write. However, owing to an illness in the family this summer, the spare time has deflated. For the next few months posts will be even more irregular than usual.