Nature Journal

13 June

At the end of what we called Frog Road

Surrounded by the threat of storms in all directions, we headed out to the Trempealeau National Wildlife Refuge a bit past noon.  We parked in at the Elmaro Vineyard gravel lot and unloaded the
bikes, packed up the bike bags, and headed down Delaney Rd. onto Prairie, then into the Refuge.

Tremp. Prairie Oak Savannah

There were few if any others on the trails today, a flat bottom here or there and a couple of poles tugging at lines over a backwater bridge.  The Prairie Loop Trail, possibly the most dynamic trail we've been on, skirts around an Oak Savannah Prairie, one of the last of its kind, maintained yearly

Purple Prairie Clover

by prescribed burn. Enormous rounded green fields full of bluestem and Indian grasses, Spiderwort, Purple Prairie Clover, with the occasional ancient oak looming on the soft ridges of the hills.  The trail itself is a ground gravel that doesn't become muddy and easy to bike over in all weather.  Lookouts line marsh edges and benches are placed on prairie trails moving inland.  We stopped by Listening Point to rest and listen to what was listed on a sign as at least 4-5 species of frogs chirring or burping in the painted underbrush.  As we sat there momentarily, we could hear an orchestra of more wildlife than we could ever keep track of.  Marsh birds song merged with the throttle of frogs and click of crickets.  An inchworm on a white flower next to us made no sound but it stood out all

the same.  We got back on bikes, finished the Prairie Loop, then ducked back off onto the Great River Trail towards Bluffs Siding.  Here, in regular intervals, there were piles of smashed white eggs which we could tell had been found by the digging of some small animal.  As we went along we saw what seemed a hundred chipmunks and wondered if they hadn't been the culprits to uncover turtle eggs buried at higher ground.  As we circled back, we took an old built-up dike road out to the water's edge.  Hundreds of frogs leaped from the center of our path back into the swampy underbrush.  As we parked and looked out onto the marsh shallows stocked full of lily pads and the occasional great blue heron, frogs scattered at every step.  The slenderest of blue dragonflies helicoptered in swarms over the lush green bushes.  At one point, I looked straight out onto the water only to see one of these flying blue threads hovering directly in front of my nose looking at me wondering what was this creature, then flew off out of sight onto more exciting leaves.

Blue Dragonfly