Walking with Nature: Walking the Greenway in February

I walked the DuPage River Greenway in mid February with two objectives: to look for a “natural valentine,” and to spot signs of spring. The ice which had proved to be hazardous on my January walk had melted, and most of the mud and detritus had been shoveled off the bike path.

“Have you seen anything interesting today?” I asked a hiker who was exiting the Greenway as I started down the path. “Only squirrels,” was the reply, “but what a wonderful day for a walk.” She was right; the sun was out, the wind, quiet, and the squirrels were active.

The first squirrel I spotted saw me first. She (or he) bounced off into the tall grass. There was no chance of catching a photo, but I enjoyed following the waving tail until the squirrel was out of sight. Squirrels have to be quick because most of the squirrel-eating predators—hawks, eagles, owls, raccoons, opossums, wildcats, coyotes, foxes, snakes and dogs—are quick. Had I been a hawk, I might well have caught the squirrel before she managed to hide. Humans are also predators who hunt squirrels for their meat and, especially, for their hides. Few humans are fast enough to pounce on a squirrel, but their bullets can outrun the little rodents.

Squirrel tails are a marvel of nature. Sometimes a squirrel folds his tail up over his back to protect himself from rain or snow. Since a squirrel’s umbrella is attached, he always has it with him. His tail also serves as a warm quilt in cold weather. When a squirrel jumps from a tree, he can use his tail to slow the fall; he doesn’t have to reach for a parachute. Scholars think squirrels communicate with their friends and family by flicking their tails. The squirrel I saw dashing into the grass may have been waving a warning to kinfolk or neighbors.

The second squirrel I saw, an American Fox Squirrel, seemed to be posing as I approached with my camera. About the color of dead leaves, it might have thought it was concealed. I managed to get fairly close before the squirrel ran toward the road, changed its mind, and scurried back to the closest tree. It seemed to think the branches in which it hid camouflaged it. If I could speak squirrel (I’ve read that they have a large vocabulary of clicks and clucks), I would have advised this creature to take lessons from squirrels who stretch out flat on a branch or hide in a hole in a trunk. Squirrels live a hazardous live; most of the predators on their “Ten Most Wanted List” have homes nearby.

Leaving the squirrel in peace, I concentrated on my search for natural valentines. I found garlic mustard. The leaves are heart-shaped, like those of violets, but larger and shiner, with toothed edges.

One rule of the DuPage River Greenway and other natural preserves is “Take nothing but pictures; leave nothing but footprints.” The staff at the Hidden Oaks Nature Center told me they make an exception for garlic mustard. They even told me that there are many garlic mustard recipes on the Internet. Their negative attitude toward these “green valentines” reflects the fact that it is an invasive species which threatens the survival of native wildflowers and insects by monopolizing light, moisture and soil nutrients.* Girl Scouts help pull out and dispose of garlic mustard along the Greenway and at Hidden Lakes Trout Farm each year.

On this walk, I saw more remnants of fall than signs of spring. The Greenway was largely brown, due to the accumulation of dead and dormant leaves and grasses. There was still ice on the wetlands along the path and on the Hidden Lakes. The bright green leaves of the garlic mustard were not signs of spring; they stay green all winter. I saw a number of Mallards in pairs, but they sometimes mate in the winter, so that is not necessarily a sign of spring, either.

I did see hints that the warmer-than-usual winter weather was awakening plants, however. There was a bit more green, and there were more red stalks on some of the bushy plants. Also, a number of trees were already budding. The problem with budding this early is that a late cold spell can freeze the buds. If so, the tree may be weakened and have fewer leaves, seeds, flowers and/or fruits this summer.

did not get the big snow some were predicting for Feb. 23 and 24. Nevertheless, the ground was white enough on Friday morning to inspire me to head back to the DuPage River Greenway. I arrived early, thinking I might be the first trekker of the day, The asphalt had already been tracked by a pair of hikers – one human and one canine. I was evidently not the only person drawn to the black-and-white beauty of tree trunks decorated with snow. Seed clusters wore white wool caps. The river flowed on downstream, its beauty enhanced by the contrast between the water and to the snowy shore.

My time was severely limited, so I only hiked to the ¼ mile sign before turning back. As I approached the exit to the Greenway, a male cardinal in his valentine-colored suit serenaded a mate or potential mate. It was a perfect ending to my short walk on the DuPage River Greenway during the month in which we celebrate love.

* The National Park Service has an interesting web page about Garlic Mustard here. They warn that you may mistake toothwort, sweet cicely or early saxifrage for garlic mustard if you are not careful.

© 2012