The grass known as big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii) is called the “king of the prairie.” It can grow taller than all of us. It has roots that can reach ten feet down. Some folks might think it’s a plain plant, a plain plant on the plains. But, it is host to the larvae of butterflies: the rare byssus skipper, the common wood nymph. The grass is a womb for colorful living origami that dances on the air.

Look in the night sky and you can see forever—our past, our future. In centuries past, people looked up at the stars at this marsh, and in Munich, and in Mombasa, and in Machu Picchu, awed by the same moon, the same light of the Big Dipper, the same velvet blackness that cradles all.

Cherokee Marsh is not yet a dazzle of blossoms, but it is on its way. Bellworts are ringing their yellow bells. Mayapples hide their blossoms beneath green umbrellas. Shooting stars glitter in the thickets. Daisies dance. These are wild geranium days.

60 third-graders from Sandburg Elementary School visited the Cherokee Marsh Conservation Park, North Unit for activities.

Results of the Spring 2025 Snake Survey at the North Unit of Cherokee Marsh Conservation Park

Friends volunteers and board members were busy throughout Earth Week.

Sometimes I can be done with work early enough to glimpse the last gleams of daybreak at the marsh. Glorious days, those.

The marsh in rainy weather has a different feel. The soft susurrus of the rain over trees and fields, ponds and riverbanks, pulls me in.

American White Pelicans in the "Cherokee Lake" area of the Yahara River