"There was only the enormous, empty prairie, with grasses blowing in waves of light and shadow across it, and the great blue sky above it, and birds flying up from it and singing with joy because the sun was rising. And on the whole enormous prairie there was no sign that any other human being had ever been there."
― Laura Ingalls Wilder
Did you know that yesterday was National Get Outdoors Day? National and State Parks waived fees for the day, which meant they were probably overrun with muggles. That's really OK ― natural areas do need their support, too. I had already made plans to look for tiger beetles and birds at the Sauk Prairie State Recreational Area (SPRA). Despite it's rather touristy sounding moniker, not many people visit this natural area unless they're bicycling the paved trail that bisects the property. I seldom encounter other people there, which is what I sought and what I received to celebrate the day outdoors.
Years ago there were plans for high-impact activities at SPRA, like off-road motorcycling, ATV trails, rocket launching, dog training area, and even helicopter training (these were in the master plan). But the Sauk Prairie Conservation Alliance filed suit against the Wisconsin DNR in Sauk County Circuit Court. The nonprofit group asked that a judge set aside the DNR’s plan for the Sauk Prairie Recreation Area ― the area is known to a host a variety of endangered, threatened, and species of special concern. Alas, SPRA's website seems to indicate that this is still not a settled matter.
What a mistake it would be to despoil this gorgeous prairie for the hundreds upon hundreds of critters that presently thrive there and depend on its integrity and continued restoration for survival. It has become one of my favorite tiger beetle destinations for having Ghost, Punctured, Big Sand, Oblique-lined, Festive, and Six-spotted during the warm weather months. Though on this outing, no Ghosts were found (it's early), so I dedicated myself to obtaining portraits of Festive Tiger Beetles Cicindela scutellaris.
I find it fascinating that the Festive Tiger Beetles at this location take on a more reddish hue compared to those at Spring Green Preserve and along the Wisconsin River. All those in Wisconsin are the subspecies C. s. lecontei, which still shows quite a bit of color variation. Subspecies throughout the US can be copper, maroon, green, blue-green, and even black ― and there's undoubtedly a biological basis for this. If you look closely at these ones, you'll see traces of green on their heads and thorax. But yeah ... lecontei. That's going to have to go, isn't it. The sixteen tiger beetle species in Wisconsin all have descriptive common names, though there are some in other states that have eponymous names like Horn's, Melissa's, Williston's, and Cazier's.
I also took some time to photograph a few butterflies ― these are hard-fought dorsal views of a Silvery Checkerspot Chlosyne nycteis. There was rain the previous day and they and other butterflies were using their proboscides to obtain nutrients from the damp sand. But they kept pumping their wings, more often closed than open. Thank goodness for burst-mode.
And Hackberry Emperor Asterocampa celtis, doing the same:
It seemed like every stretch of trail had counter-singing Dickcissels perched atop trees and branches. This was a terrific opportunity to obtain portraits. Other birds included Eastern Kingbird, Eastern Meadowlark, Clay-colored Sparrow, Song Sparrow, Field Sparrow, Eastern Towhee, Bell's Vireo, Warbling Vireo, Indigo Bunting, Orchard Oriole, Willow Flycatcher, and many more.
Lastly, an adorable bird with (now) an unfortunate name: the Henslow's Sparrow. One day, little bird, we'll give you a proper and nontoxic name you'll know nothing about. A thing is still a thing no matter what you call it, right? It's a dapper grassland bunting. After all, the utility of common names is the way to convey to others what's being observed in the field. But if a substantial contingent of birders refuse to use new AOS woke names, this will end up being a rather counter-productive and confusing endeavor. Whatever they ultimately end up being renamed to, they will always be Henslow's Sparrows to me ― it's the name I've used for over a quarter century of birding. Heck, I didn't even know who John Stevens Henslow was until a few days ago, but this derpy effort is going to make sure we all know who and what 17th and 18th century naturalists were ... and it won't stop there.
All images © 2021 Mike McDowell