June 29 tap images for gallery view

 

What a glorious day. And hello, I'm blue vervain, Verbena hastata. My flower spikes are usually a bit more upright. Perhaps the rain will help.

 

 

I'm harebell, Campanula rotundifolia. Until I flower most people don't see me because my stems are wiry. Once I flower, though, you can't miss me.

 

 

I'm an exotic honey bee. I'm supposed to be pollinating the canola crop on the field across the street. But the queen suggested a little diversity in the young uns' diet (you know, the pollen we collect) would be a good thing. And this gaillardia is just the ticket.

 

 

I'm that katydid, again. As you can see I'm almost all grown up. Oh yeah, that's swamp milkweed, Asclepias incarnata. It's just starting to open it's flowers.

 

 

Smooth camas, Zygadenus elegans, again. As you can see brunch is now being served. And I'm open 24/3. I'll be going to seed in a few days.

 

 

It's called a "controlled" burn because it's controlled, eh.

 

June 30 tap images for gallery view

 

Hey, purple prairie clover, Dalea purpurea Vent. again. You don't have to sound the signs and portents alarm. We do these multiple cones all the time. Always good to experiment, eh.

 

 

Well hello there. I'm white prairie clover, Dalea candida Michx.. My flowers share the same shape as my sibling, purple prairie clover, but the cones aren't as long. Nor do I put up as many of them.

 

 

Howdy, fringed brome, Bromus ciliatus L., here. The photog had to put that card behind me otherwise you'd never see me. In fact, most people walk right past without noticing me until my seedheads ripen. Then the velvety soft droopy clusters with the chocolate milk colour are unmistakable.

 

 

Good day, to you. I'm called whorled milkweed, Asclepias verticillata. The people tending this site started me from seed a few years ago which they got from Prairie Originals. Ants usually leave me alone but bees, wasps, butterflies and hoverflies love my nectar.

 

July 1 tap images for gallery view

 

I'm a least sandpiper. That's because I'm the smallest. I sure like this mudflat. Lots of good eats.

 

 

Yeah, you want to make something of it. I'm an ambush bug. And this black-eyed susan attracts a lot of attention. It's a perfect spot to catch some dinner.

 

 

I've been hanging around underground here for about six, maybe seven, years. You know, getting the roots established. The people tending this site thought I was gone. They even forgot about me. Well, I'm back and I'm called prairie lily, Lilium philadelphicum.

 

 

I'm Phi-Phi-Phi-Philadelphia fleabane, Erigeron philadelphicus L..
My odour is said to repel fleas. That's why I'm called fleabane. You know, bane = stay away.

 

 

We're grasses. There are a few of us here.
On the left, I'm the one with the airy panicle (look it up) and I'm a perennial called Nuttall's alkali grass, Puccinellia Nuttalliana.
On the right, I'm an annual called sloughgrass, Beckmannia syzigachne.
We are very different but we both love lots of moisture. And this mudflat is perfect.

 

Yep, you guessed it. We're boreal chorus frogs. Nobody ever sees us. But there is no mistaking our song. And we've got reason to sing. That rain a day ago means we've got what we need for our eggs. Oh yeah, that's red-winged blackbirds sounding the intruder alert in the background.

 

July 2 tap images for gallery view

 

When the red, red robin comes bob, bob, bobbing ...
Yeah, I need no introduction. I don't usually hang out here but thought I'd stop by.

 

 

Hey, I'm threesquare bulrush, Schoenoplectus pungens (Vahl) Palla.. I have no idea what the threesquare means. Like all sedges I have triangular stems. Rushes, of course, belong to the sedge family.
The tenders of this site had me planted in a sort of wet area. Two years ago they moved me to this regularly wet section of the site. Well, I took off. Love it here.

 

 

I'm so small yet I'm one fearsome creature and one reason why so many people prefer mowed areas to wild ones. Of course, if they burned more there would be fewer of me. Oh yeah, in case you weren't sure, I'm an American dog tick, Dermacentor variabilis.

 

 

For some reason, when people (who don't know what we're doing here) come on site they often comment, "I thought this place was abandoned."
Mowitis, I think it's called.

 

 

Pardon me for saying so, but I think this phrase needs to be added to current thinking and jargon.
I see groups like Manitoba Eco-Network advocating planting highly invasive exotic white clover for lawns and the Red River Basin Commission talking about restoring wetlands by planting cattails (which form mono-cultures and plug waterways) because of the plants' harvest potential.
Add "ecological integrity" to your thinking if you want to call yourself "environmentally friendly".

 

 

Many years ago, before I met big bluestem and took the native plant plunge, a colleague at the time mentioned the reason most of us have lawns. We thought he was joking. Since deciding to abandon the kept short grass with pocket gardens approach I did some research. And he was right:
You might want to change that.