Nature, History, Celebrities, and Scandal

Is this post a hodgepodge of tidbits? Or might it have deeper unity and meaning? I write blog posts rather than books and chapters, in part, because so many key questions are unresolved. Judgements change. Answers, if any, become clear only gradually. In the globally important field of biodiversity conservation, we have both a science and a discipline in their early stages. We keep needing new ideas, flexibility, and change.

This post will range from fen invaders and Thomas Jefferson's bur oak data - to how to burn oak woods and revolutionary class conflict in early Chicago.  

The post is kinda long. I divided it into six chapters, for your convenience.

One reader proposed that the unifying principle behind this post may be: “The challenges of biodiversity conservation are great. We may need from time to time to make bold decisions.” 

Chapter 1. Times change.

Indeed, they are a changin' in so many ways. Do you recognize the new-to-this-region flower in the photo below?

It's that white spike with a wide lower leaf, an invading orchid, the oval lady's tresses. When first found around here, it was treated as a rare native (Spiranthes ovalis. Swink&Wilhelm 1994: native C=10). Now it's popping up widely and seen as an alien from farther south (Wilhelm&Rericha 2018: non-native - thus no C value). But is it a malignant threat to ecosystems? Not likely. 

And do plants moving north with global warming need a different category? “Naturalized?” (For the differences in meaning among alien, adventive, invasive, and naturalized, see Endnote 1.)

No argument about the nativity of this rare plant. The wide leaves and pale flowers above are big-leaf aster (Eurybia macrophylla). This year for the first time at Somme it flowered abundantly and made copious seed. There's a reason for that.

Oak woodlands need help. As part of a long-term experiment, seeds of this aster were gathered from a nearby high-quality oak woods where they sadly now are no more, shaded out, mostly by native invasive trees. The Somme plants, restored by seed, along with other rare diversity slowly increased for decades. But recently, aggressive native woodland sunflower seemed to be suppressing them and everything else. Was this an ailment that could and should be treated? In summer 2022, we scythed the sunflower back in selected areas. We learned a lot. In the photo above, the dark green, pointed, narrow leaves rising above the wide aster leaves are woodland sunflower, re-sprouts after the scything. The big-leaf aster did spectacularly well where we kept the sunflower from shading them out. Our hypothesis was that diversity might keep the sunflowers in balance if we gave some of the other diverse, conservative plants more opportunity to recover a sufficiently competitive turf. A report on this and the larger experiment is in the works. 

Above, toward dusk, two Friends of Kishwaukee Fen, Tom Ziomek and Ben Davies, clip purple loosestrife heads and drip Glyphosate down their stems. Previously, the introduction of loosestrife-eating beetles failed to control this menace here (See Endnote 2.) Over four weekends, eight Friends first eliminated this invasive from the highest quality and most precious little fen areas. Here we push it farther back in the surrounding sedge meadow. Repeated detail work of this kinds seems to be the only approach that works in some cases. (Staff folks, understandably, mostly do not have time for this.)

Similarly with the semi-native quaking aspen: In Shaw Prairie, within Skokie River Nature Preserve, Monica Gajdel (below), another Friend of nature, treats the killer aspen. It's been battled many times here, then let be for years, during which time it has rebounded and largely wiped out precious parts of this preserve. Control takes focus and persistence.

Below, Christos Economou's gloved hands demonstrates the technique:

One hand holds a clipper. The other, an herbicide applicator.

Aspen, where artificially planted (and sometimes just invading from natural habitat nearby), under conditions today can wipe out entire prairies.

The red indicates herbicide on the tips and sides of live stems:

Notice last year's dead stems, more than twice as big. To control aspen, it's necessary to knock it out a few years in a row. After about three years of intensive control, we've found, it gives up. 

Buckthorn is a pushover compared to aspen. 

Just as "native" aspen can destroy prairies, "native" sugar maple can destroy oak woodlands. Is this unsettling? It shouldn't be. This post in part is about success and victory after years of learning and struggle.

There is still debate about cutting maples, from time to time. Admittedly, it's a fine tree. So, no doubt, are aspen and buckthorn in their natural habitats. But oak woodlands and savannas are endangered, as are many of their plant and animal species. And maple is an existential threat.

Matt Evans of the Chicago Botanic Garden made the three maps below for the Chicago Wilderness Alliance. They help us understand oak and maple better.

Above, in the six counties of northeastern Illinois, with Cook County outlined in red. Blue dots show where white oak was recorded by Thomas Jefferson's surveyors in the 1830s. (For background see Endnote 3. Public Land Survey.) White oak was the major tree of our region's woodlands.

The map below shows where the surveyors recorded bur oak, the major tree of our savannas.

Most everywhere that didn't have bur or white oak was prairie. Often bur and white oaks were mixed.

 

Then comes sugar maple, below.

Cook County Forest Preserves are in green. There just wasn't all that much maple forest. Some nice patches border the east side of the DesPlaines River, which protected them from fire. A string of maple in the lowlands border the Palos preserves on the north. An impressive patch in eastern Kane County was no doubt popular with Native Americans who made sugar from the sap. Perhaps they protected it?

Matt writes:
 

"As of 2022, the frequent fires that have regulated maple species in NE IL have been largely absent for a century and a half leading to a great migration of maple trees into the region, pushing (shading) out oak and tallgrass prairie, and the associated biodiversity. We can see that the PLS surveyors recorded little maple in the region in the 1830’s."

The Botanic Garden, Forest Preserves, the Friends - we protect and treasure natural maple woods. But in oak woodlands and savannas, invasive maple (and its partner-in-crime basswood) needs control. Most effective on maple long term is fire (about which, see much more below). But thinning maples is typically needed too.

The main goal of conservation is to maintain or restore the ancient ecosystems on which most biodiversity depends. In "preserves" generally, keystone bur and white oaks, many of which are old enough that Jefferson's surveyors actually saw them, are not reproducing. Without care, they and the thousands of plant and animal species associated with the oaks are doomed. See ghastly examples in Chapters 5 and 6.)

Chapter 2. Nature Preserves In Trouble 

Speaking of Matt, he's president of Friends of Illinois Nature Preserves, a fairly new organization that is wrestling mightily with these challenges. In the photo below, Matt is checking out a tiny prairie in Robinson Park Hill Prairies Nature Preserve in Peoria.

Bit by bit, the prairie shrinks smaller every year, as the surrounding trees, including oaks, kill it. Oak trees can be "invasives" in prairie. But both the prairies here and the oak woods around them are doomed unless they get more fire and other care. 

Matt and I were heading further south, toward a Friends mission of mercy. The star human attraction of that event was ecosystem artist Philip Juras whose paintings at a recent Chicago Botanic Garden exhibit led to a central Illinois exhibit at Dickson Mounds exhibit hall. This site is near one of Philip's desperately needy subjects,  Revis Spring Hill Prairie Nature Preserve. 

One of the largest, best, and most important original prairies in the state, Revis has annually shrunk such that in 1995 there was more brush than prairie. Then 56% of the prairie was gone. (See Erigenia, Journal of the Illinois Native Plant Society 14: 41–52.) An estimated 75% is gone today. 

Above, Philip Juras, gesturing, describes compelling experiences at Revis and introduces Lou Nelms (left), heroic, lonely steward of the preserve for the last decade.

One expert told us cheerfully that, though most of the prairie had been lost, what's left is of very high quality. Is this the best we can do?

Below, Friends of Illinois Nature Preserves director, Amy Doll, makes the case for Revis and for nature preserves generally. They need staff, funding, and especially, local Friends. 

Amy (right) enthusiastically introduces new Nature Preserves director, Todd Strole (left). In recent years the Nature Preserve system had lost support. The Director position was left vacant for more than five years. The Friends advocated to re-establish this key role. These two new leaders have very big and difficult jobs.

Soon those assembled at the exhibit were hiking through scrub toward the top of the real thing. Ripe pawpaws littered the ground. They were delicious and energy-replenishing. But cool, shady pawpaw leaves were killing prairie.

At the dramatic top, we had sort of a town meeting and weighed options. $300,000 in contract brush-control work here seems not to have reversed the trend. Prairie didn't recover where the brush was cut. Why not? Could seed gathering and broadcast make the difference? Was the main need more detailed follow-up to kill re-sprouts? More aggressive burning? One DNR person pointed out that the staff were getting older and could only do so much. Some volunteers with youth and energy offered to help. Friends hope to hire regional Field Reps, who could recruit, train, and facilitate a volunteer community that could provide critical help.  

Chapter 3. Communities of Nature and Humans

Ecosystems are communities. In parallel, conservation today depends on the human community. 

Good doesn't win just because it's right.

Transitioning for a moment from the cosmic to the landscaping in preserve-neighbors' yards, the sign below, on a lawn, made me proud of my Village of Northbrook.

We now have one for our own lawn. The frogs, birds, butterflies, and bees in our yards are interwoven parts of the Nature Preserve ecosystem nearby. Our wild gardens, for example (shown below), are valuable rare-seed-producing ecosystems as they are nectar and food sources. Conversations with neighbors are also an important part of the work. And the sign will help too. 

Our seed for rare species (like the formerly Threatened savanna blazing star, below) came originally from tiny, threatened populations - now lost to brush. But the seeds from this garden go back to managed preserves annually, where the refugee blazing star now thrives. 

Shown here, on their late summer way to Mexico, seven monarchs industriously pollenate these rare blazing-star beauties. (I can find five monarchs in the photo, if I look hard.) The species of an ecosystem depend on each other. And one of those species is us.

At "field seminars" we stewards study and plan.

We journey here and there to learn more stuff. At the 1580-acre Cap Sauers Holding Nature Preserve we studied a woodland savanna-opening cut from the brush by volunteers in the 1980s. Volunteers are gone from here now, but younger generations are coming along.

We also studied where staff and contractors battled the buckthorn with big machines more recently. We will follow the progress of such areas: 

We visited Grant Woods in Lake County.

The restoration work and the public education signage were both impressive.

Our hearts went out to the old bur oaks. Where are their babies? The skinny young pole trees around this noble survivor are hickories, which may need thinning or more intense fire. We found vastly more young hickories than young bur oaks.

One treat from Grant Woods was this chair, cut out of a stump.

It seems to tell a story.

We wondered what people make of it. 

Sitting in it made me feel somehow embraced by ancient nature. People have always been part of the savanna ecosystem and need to be part of it now. 

Chapter 4 - Celebrities 

I highly recommend two fun and profound books. Andrea Wulf wrote The Invention of Nature: Alexander von Humboldt's New World. She also wrote and Lillian Melcher illustrated the even-more-fun "graphic non-fiction" The Adventures of Alexander von Humboldt, from which come the pages below:  

Humboldt inspired the world. All manner of mountains, an ocean current, and a Chicago park were named after him. Cities around the world held huge celebrations of his birthday attended by hundreds of thousands. He was the first pop-star scientist. He conveyed the fullness of nature in a dramatically new way. His voyage inspired that of Charles Darwin. Humboldt profoundly influenced Henry Thoreau, Goethe, John Muir, Simon Bolivar, and at least two U.S. Presidents.  

When he visited Thomas Jefferson, Humboldt admired the man's revolutionary ideas but dissed him on slavery. 

Sometimes he was polite about it. Sometimes he blasted Jefferson, the United States, Cuba, and others for their blindness, cowardice, and guilt. Advocacy requires some tact and some boldness.

Humboldt lived much of his life in Paris, then the center of learning and science. Napoleon blocked his mail and harassed him in various ways, sometimes dangerously. Napoleon was jealous that Humboldt was more famous and admired.

 

Chapter 5 - War and Peace and Scandals

The ravines along Lake Michigan are precious. At least one is a Nature Preserve. The ravine in Fort Sheridan Forest Preserve is not, but it has potential, and some level of public access, which most don't.

We were interested in surviving oak woodland vegetation, which did get a mention on one mud-spattered sign:

And we'll get to that ecosystem soon. But soon there's some history to ponder:

This preserve exists now because the land was kept from other uses by the United States Army. And for a remarkable reason. The wealthiest of Chicago fled to Lake Forest in the late 1800s to escape the violence of revolt and revolution.

Someone scribbled "Losers" here. Meaning? To be frank, the bowdlerized language of the sign could use some clarification. The fort was put just south of Lake Forest so that the Army could protect the Robber Barons and other Captains of Industry from The People, who, at that time, were fed up. 

 

Later, the fort was used to train soldiers to fight in Cuba, the Philippines, Middle East, and Europe. 

Some people remember wars with nostalgia. Many of us hope fervently that the Russian war crimes against Ukraine will ultimately leave a sour taste for war forever. But history is history.

This is my last and possibly ghastliest war graphic. What can a person say? But now, back to the ecosystem.

Ravines are lovely, dark, and deep. But invasives kill, here as anywhere. Lake County Forest Preserve staff work to restore eco-health. In some places, quality is on the rise. (People scrambling up and down the slopes are another threatening evil. We stayed off the slopes.)

We studied the woodland remnants around the tops. We found many rare species. The champ of the day was wood pea or cream vetchling (Lathyrus ochroleucus). It's one of those rare plant refugees that once were common and deserve to be (and can be) again. Here's what it looks like in bloom:

This Endangered plant is a bean, so it could end up contributing improved human nutrition and pest resistance in agriculture. There's fine potential for the return of high-quality woodland health around the edges and crests of the ravine slope. Forest preserve personal recognize this too, as we saw much evidence of stewardship. 

 

But the photo above is ugly in more ways than one. The green leaves barely visible at the bottom are tinged with blue. They are malignant teasel. The blue is herbicide. The leaves were dying. But among them stood towering teasel heads full of seeds. With thousands of seeds falling in all directions, the herbiciding was a waste, a failure, and a missed opportunity.

Similarly, another photo of defeat. Here the blue-tinged green plant is the malignant crown vetch. Another threat to he future of the ecosystem. About half was sprayed and about half was not. We often puzzle over such areas. "Job security" - one person muttered. But the basic problem is not laziness or incompetence or indifference. It's that the challenge is too big for the resources. There's not enough capacity for needed supervision and quality control. How could there not be failure? Biodiversity conservation needs something like a war-time footing. Human-friendly, animal-friendly, plant-friendly, yes. But with the needed emergency resources, mobilization, and urgency. Climate change and biodiversity loss are the twin and interdependent evils that head the Earth toward the most serious permanent tragedy and injury it's faced for sixty million years, since that big asteroid hit.

It's urgent that we in conservation face our scandals. How often should we name scandals site by site. That could raise counterproductive antagonisms. When practical, we Friends try to advocate by praise and asking questions as much as possible.  

Many people whisper, but few stand up and loudly say, "We should be ashamed for the state of our nature preserves. People contributed millions of dollars to buy them, on the promise that they would be safe and sound forever." 

Fifty years ago, no one anticipated how challenging stewardship would be. But we've now known for decades. At one (unnamed) preserve, white sweet clover was mowed by a restoration contractor after the seed was set, then left on the ground, massively seeding for future years. The contractor was paid for the work. The scandal is in paying. But where does the guilt fall for that? Perhaps on the lack of sufficient staff to follow up? If so, then does the fickle finger of blame point at us, we conservationists who know what's going on but don't speak up and don't advocate and fight for the needed resources? 

At another (unnamed) preserve, an unnamed contractor effectively controlled one invasive after parking equipment nightly in a patch of a worse invasive and then (through seeds and mud on tires) spread that evil over hundreds of acres. Neither the contract language nor staff supervision stood in the way. The contractor was paid. There were no repercussions.

Chapter 6. Generations and Legacies

What inspires me most in recent years are the initiatives taken by (often youthful) volunteer leaders with Friends of Illinois Nature Preserves.

What inspires them (and me, for that matter)? As I write today, I repeatedly hear loud flocks of cranes flying over. Rushing outside this time, I see fifty cranes forming a "kettle" or vortex above where I know stewards are today burning a bonfire. Updrafts lift flocks of cranes high into the heavens. These ancient birds are so smart. They largely glide from Canada to the Gulf of Mexico, making crafty use of whatever thermal vortices they find. When they take advantage of our bonfires, I all-the-more know that we and they are all in this together. 

Cranes have one of the longest fossil records of any bird - going back millions of years. They survived multiple glaciations, only to go extinct as breeding birds east of the Mississippi when Euro-Americans took over. Later, conservation reared its thoughtful head, and now cranes breed exuberantly in many forest preserves where restoration welcomes them, and hundreds of thousands fly over every spring and fall. We're in a flyway. It's a seasonal privilege that stokes our hopes. 

Lisa Musgrave snapped this spectacular photo as mama and papa cranes shepherded their babies across a Forest Preserve bike trail at Deer Grove East. Cranes showed up and started breeding here the first year after major restoration started. They've successfully raised many "colts" there. 

Being a medic for injured nature has a lot in common with being parent to babies. Wisdom and finesse often succeed where force doesn't. 

The folks below are such parents of nature, taking a break.

As flocks of cranes fly over, halfway through a volunteer "workday" - these stewards are snacking, joking, and thinking aloud, sprawled in a firebreak mowed by staff. Staff and volunteers do different kinds of work, which reinforce each other.

The yellow flags here represent individual dogwood shrubs that had badly damaged parts of the very high-quality Somme Prairie. As with the aspen at Shaw Prairie, nothing else had worked, so the volunteers are annually cutting and herbiciding annually. Now just a few nasty stems are left. The public payroll probably can't fund this level of detail. We need both staff and volunteers.

 

How much pampering makes sense in biodiversity conservation?

Above, fringed gentian and eared false-foxglove are caged for protection from deer and voles. The seeds (that mature here in quantity only when so protected) are spread widely when ripe into receptive habitats. If dedicated people do this for a few years, perhaps these nearly lost species will build up large enough numbers to be able to make it on their own. 

As we edge up toward the climax of this long post, we'll consider Pilcher Park (just two photos) and controlled burns (three more). 

We visited at the suggestion of Nature Preserve staff, in fall, with vegetation dormant. The first photo, by Mike MacDonald from chicagonaturenow.com, celebrates the richness of spring flora in a wetland seep here.

This 293 acre Nature Preserve "is one of northeastern Illinois’ premiere woodlands with outstanding spring wildflower displays and old-growth trees." 

It needs serious help. Donated to the Joliet Park District in 1921 by Robert Pilcher, it's been putatively "protected" ever since. But has not had prescribed burns, which we now know it needs. The ephemeral spring flora survives. But on October 31 when we visited, there were no inspiring photos to take. The ground was mostly bare. In the dark of the now over-dense canopy, there had been no summer or fall flora, which represent most of the plant species, and on which most animals depend. There was no reproduction of the magnificent old bur and white oaks. Expandable, recoverable patches are said to survive. 

We did find one hopeful sign, the bottom of which is shown here:

We guessed that this sign was installed when the site was officially granted Nature Preserve status in 2012. The park website shows that they do sponsor at least some restoration - though apparently not focused on its most needy, highest quality areas. The friendly and professional staff knew a great deal about the park's facilities for weddings and such, yoga, kids programs, and the greenhouse conservatory. But they could tell us nothing about volunteerism or restoration. 

The soon-to-be-hired Friends Field Reps should be able to help. What's needed? Recruitment, training, mentoring, and facilitation. You might think that kind of work is technically easy, but it's not. 

Field Reps need people skills and the ability to facilitate state of the art applied science. Consider the photo below, which shows a burn that was not as good as it could have been. Such burns are common, though nobody's fault, really. Perhaps some day there will be enough resources and public knowledge that a poor burn will be a proper scandal. Biodiversity declines because of them. And yet a poor or mediocre burn is all that most sites are likely to get.

Little flames won't do much good. They will do some. 

There had been hot, dry, windy days earlier in October when a burn could have done a lot more of the work biodiversity conservationists hope for. Also, for public heath, the fire would have been hotter and the smoke would have risen and dispersed high in the sky unlike today, when it hugged the ground. 

Then also, it was shut down too early. This complaint reminds me of the joke about the diner who complained, "The food here is terrible! And the portions are too small!" But, as is often the case, the best burn conditions came later in the day, when temperatures rose and humidity fell. Today, the contractor shut down the burn early so workers could spend their time spraying water on smoking logs. They did it until after dark. But burning up downed logs is part of the work that a natural oak woods fire is supposed to do. It's good. If you put out smoking logs, then you'll have to do it again after the next burn, and the next, and on. For better or worse, that work often fails. Consider the log below, which had a lot of water sprayed on it soon after I took this photo. It had seemed out, but deep inside it wasn't. 

Burning log at unnamed site. November 22. 4:34 PM  

Same log. November 23. 8:23 AM

Same log. November 25. 2:07 PM

Secret peek into the end of that log. Also at 2:07.

The logs often burn for days. That's good. It's nature. Preserve visitors may make concerned phone calls. They need education and, in my experience, they typically appreciate it. 

Well-intentioned and good staff make the rules and the decisions. They listen to the public, as they need to do. We, the public, are part of the problem and part of the solution. 

Staff and volunteers need to collaborate - with vision, commitment, openness, and generosity of spirit. 

In the photo above, Friends director Amy Doll (second from the right) poses with six candidates for one or two Friends Field Rep jobs. They all seem to have commitment, vision, openness, and generosity of spirit. Important parts of the future are soon to be in their hands of the one (or two, if the funding comes) that get(s) hired. 

If you feel a generosity of spirit, it would be great if you could donate to Friends of Illinois Nature Preserves.
Web address: Friends of Illinois Nature Preserves
U.S. Mail address: Friends of Illinois Nature Preserves, 224 Concord Drive, DeKalb, Illinois 60115

Endnotes

Endnote 1

The words alien, adventive, and naturalized - along with non-native and weed may mean slightly or very different things, depending on who uses them. 

An adventive plant is one, according to various dictionaries:

• Not native, but introduced by humans to a place and has since become naturalized.
• Not native and usu. not yet well established, exotic. 
• Not native and not fully established; locally or temporarily naturalized.

Often it's helpful to consider the history of a word. So I checked the Oxford English Dictionary. It gave two definitions for adventive:

A. "of the nature of an addition from without"
B. "an immigrant, a sojourner"
Perhaps not so helpful in this case. Frankly, those people speak a different language over there, especially as regards nature; they have nothing surviving remotely like our natural areas. So we struggle to theorize, invent, define, conceive a land ethic, and otherwise figure this stuff out pretty much from scratch.

The word naturalized is easier.
Although this word has many other uses, in ecology it just means a plant from elsewhere that has become part of nature in some new place.

See also: Weed, Alien, Invasive, Malignant

Endnote 2

The jury is still out on the value of importing pests to combat other pests that seem worse. In this context, it seems worthwhile to tell the story of purple loosestrife beetles and the heroic contributions of Donna Hriljac, John Schwegman, and Sidney Yates.  

European purple loosestrife (Lythrum salicaria) had destroyed millions of acres of valuable marshes and swamps in eastern North America. Billions of animals and plants died, some becoming endangered in the process. Illinois state botanist John Schwegman saw that plague invading Illinois and conspired (legally) with other leading midwest conservation leaders to request the U.S. Department of Agriculture to find European pests to combat it.

Year after year, they appealed. They got nowhere. Then Donna Hriljac heard of it through her work as a spirited volunteer with the North Branch Prairie Project. Donna was also a Sierra Club activist and the principal volunteer coordinator for the re-election campaign of Congressman Sid Yates, chair of the House committee that appropriated the funds for the Department of Agriculture. She asked him to fund it, and he did, the next day. 

We need the scientists and the state conservation institutions. But we also need community.

Researchers found beetles that would eat nothing else but purple loosestrife. Here, they turned out to be a good but imperfect solution. Companies reared and released vast numbers of such beetles. As part of the same program, high school students did the same. At differing sites, for unknown reasons (it's often insanely expensive to study such stuff) the beetles either wiped out the loosestrife or did little. Kishwaukee Fen was one of the sites where the beetles failed. But bless them at other sites where they worked ecological miracles. 

Endnote 3

The maps in the main text show where Thomas Jefferson's "Public Land Survey" found bur and white oaks (and some sugar maples) in the Chicago region. If you didn't know, in 1785 Jefferson launched a survey of new land (captured from Britain in the revolutionary war and bought from France) so that the government could sell it to farmers without disputes over metes and bounds. The government needed money to build roads, pay promised back wages to the soldiers who won that war, and send an ambassador to France. (Ambasador James Monroe bought the Louisiana Purchase for 4 cents an acre, not a bad deal.) 

Jefferson's surveyors reached here in 1839, taking data on land increasingly inhabited by Euro-Americans but long molded by Native Americans. To securely mark section corners, the surveyors carved ID numbers on the three nearest trees and recorded the distance from the corner along with the girth and species of each tree. Unintentionally, that became our best and most detailed record of the ancient ecosystem, with data at every mile in the state, north to south, east to west.  

References

Robertson, K. R., M. W. Schwartz, J. W. Olson, B. K. Dunphy, and H. David Clarke. 1995. A Synopsis of hill prairies in Illinois: 50 years of change. Pp. 9–20 in T. E. Rice, editor, Proceedings of the Fourth Central Illinois Prairie Conference. Prairie remnants: Rekindling our natural heritage. Millikin University, Decatur, September 17–18, 1994. Grand Prairie Friends of Illinois, Urbana

Acknowledgements 

Thanks to Eriko Kojima and Christos Economou for helpful edits and proofing.