"Bloom where you are planted"

The title phrase of this post is credited to Saint Francis de Sales (1567-1622), but this post is about a walk we took yesterday through a huge reclaimed swath of prairie (technically a savanna) now filled with plant species native to Illinois.



I have a good friend who was born in this area, and after decades spent in various other parts of the country (she even worked for several years in the Boston suburb where I grew up), returned and married a transplanted person who has devoted his later adult life to restoring the land he owns to its pre-anthropogenic state. Michael and I joined a couple of dozen people (many, like us, who have moved here from far away cities) on a plant-identifying tour of this restored acreage of Illinois prairie in all its blooming glory.

It was a remarkable afternoon. Our walk, in bright sunshine, was flanked by periods of rain, so the prairie (pictured above) was refreshed after several days of blistering heat. A fledgeling bird lighted momentarily on another friend's pants pocket, and insects buzzed around happily. Afterwards we ate, drank, and talked. At around 7:00 in the evening the day was crowned by a rainbow.

Sometimes I think of the physical and psychological difference between where we live and the places we come from, but the beauty of the native Illinois prairie reminds me that creating beauty where you are planted is what we all try to do. I am very fond of so many of the people who have found themselves transplanted here and have made this out-of-the-way place their home.

My friend's husband routinely removes invasive plants that are flown and trotted in by various birds and animals (he spoke of fescue which looks to me like the grass that grows in our yard). This reminds me that the particular kind of beauty that is the natural prairie is fragile and needs loving attention.