Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Exploring the Kasota Prairie on an October afternoon October 7, 2010

 

 

A rock juts into the Kasota Prairie.

 

I CAN HEAR, in the distance, the steady thrum of traffic, presumably from U.S. Highway 169 or perhaps from nearby Minnesota Highway 22. I’m uncertain because I’ve never been here before and I haven’t consulted a map to pinpoint my location.

If not for the endless drone, I could be standing in the middle of a remote South Dakota or western Minnesota prairie.

But I am in south central Minnesota, at the Kasota Prairie, on a 90-acre remnant of the prairie land which comprised one-third of our state before 1850. Here native prairie grasses remain and grazed lands have been restored.

 

 

A view from the parking lot with a stone wall framing the prairie.

 

On a Friday afternoon, my husband and I discover this scenic spot in the Minnesota River valley two miles from Kasota. Because I favor the sweeping, wide open spaces of the prairie, the place of my roots, to the cramped confines of wooded land, I am comfortably at home here.

Prairie meets sky at Kasota. Stems of grasses dried to the muted earthen shades of autumn sway in the wind, mingling with the wildflowers and the berries I can’t always identify.

Occasionally a block of ancient rock juts through the soil, breaking the vista of plant life.

 

 

Water, rock, sky and prairie meld in this scenic Kasota Prairie landscape.

 

I pause often along the walking trails, even stray from the trampled paths, to examine the mottled stone, to admire a lone, rock-encircled barren tree atop a hill, to identify the red berries of wild roses, to study a clutch of feathers left by a predator, to take in the distant hillside of trees tinted in autumn colors.

 

 

My favorite image from the Kasota Prairie, a barren tree encircled in rock.

 

 

 

Wild rose berries on the Kasota Prairie.

 

 

Trees on a distant hillside change colors under October skies.

 

There is so much to appreciate here. Wind. The sky, quickly changing from azure blue wisped with white to the angry gray clouds of a cold front. Land, rolling out before me, unbroken except for sporadic pockets of water, the occasional tree or cluster of trees and those rocks, those hard, ancient rocks that interrupt this land, this Kasota Prairie.

 

 

A sign marks the Kasota Prairie entrance.

 

 

To truly appreciate the prairie, notice the details, like the berries growing among the grasses.

 

 

A narrow path runs along the barbed wire fence border line of the prairie.

 

FYI: To find the Kasota Prairie, take Le Sueur County Road 21 one mile south of Kasota. Then turn west onto township road 140 and go one mile.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Who are these marauding invaders anyway? July 12, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:21 AM
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OK ALL OF YOU nature-loving entomologist types out there. I need your help.

A swarm of larvae has descended upon my potted fuchsia and I would like to identify these invaders.

At first I thought the caterpillar rather cute as I observed an ant scoot across its back and back. Note the singular word “caterpillar.”

An ant about to embark on a journey across the back of this unidentified larva on my fuchsia.

The larva squirms, reacting to the ticklish feet of the ant and that amuses me.

That was day one.

ON DAY TWO, the singular became plural as I counted some 25 larvae feasting on my fuchsia. Did the scout report back, “Hey, this way, over here, look what I found!” followed by “Forward, march!”  from the commander? The powerful army had stripped away the leaves, decimating the unguarded plant.

The larvae stripped the leaves from one fuchsia and were working on the second plant in an adjacent pot.

Munch, munch, munch. The fuchsia leaves quickly disappear.

Then I stood by as a caterpillar consumed an entire leaf, just like that. Now you see it, now you don’t.

They were entertaining, but certainly no longer cute.

I am determined to determine what type of infestation I have in the pots on my driveway. I consulted a master gardener who works at the library and sent me home with Butterflies and Moths, a Golden Guide, published by St. Martin’s Press. She thinks I may be dealing with White-lined Sphinx larvae. Maybe.

But I am confused because these creatures differ in appearance. Are some male, the others female? Does their maturity or size—some are skinny and others are, well, chubby—change their look?

See how this larva differs in appearance from the one in the image above?

Just a different shot of the same larva. FYI, I'm told the pointed "horn" is the tail. Right or not?

Online research confuses me even more.

So, if you are in the know, please give me your two or three or five cents worth. Heck, I’ll even take a dollar’s worth of knowledge.

And, as long as you’re answering my questions, I would like to know why these creepy crawlies prefer fuchsia to the untouched Diamond Frost, non-stop begonia, Wandering Jew and impatiens planted in the same two pots.

From my female perspective, I’m pondering, “Could fuchsia be the equivalent of chocolate to these larvae?”

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling