Nature nerd Emily Bredthauer took the pictures enclosed below in August and September. (It’s better not to be too specific about the location of rare wildflowers.)

I am of the opinion that Indigenous people should be celebrated every day. I am constantly full of gratitude for the people who have cared for the earth, plants, water, and wildlife that I enjoy here in Iowa. In celebration of this Indigenous Peoples’ Day, I’d like to share some wisdom from one of my favorite Indigenous authors, Robin Wall Kimmerer: “In indigenous ways of knowing, it is understood that each living being has a particular role to play. Every being is endowed with certain gifts, its own intelligence, its own spirit, its own story.”

This essay will introduce Great Plains’ Ladies’ Tresses (Spiranthes magnicamporum) and share some of this plant’s gifts and story.

Katie Byerly of Cerro Gordo County is also known as Iowa Prairie Girl on YouTube.

Have you ever been on a nature walk and gotten yourself into a jam? Maybe that desire to find that one rare wildflower, or maybe just a plant you’ve never seen before, has now gotten you into a position you’re not sure how to get out of?

No? Not an adventurous plant geek? Then how about a hike to a hidden waterfall or mountain vista view? A tipped canoe? A flat bike tire? I would hope you have some type of nature adventure story you can relate to. This is my story of my wetland excursion that didn’t end as planned, but was oh, so worth the trip. 

Katie Byerly of Cerro Gordo County is also known as Iowa Prairie Girl on YouTube.

When I find a plant listed in multiple Midwestern states as “threatened” or “endangered,” I can’t help but wonder what the location looked like prior to the plant becoming a “special concern.”

We prairie lovers have all tried to imagine the tallgrass prairie waving and rolling over millions of acres across the great plains before they were settled. But what about the other habitats?

Iowa was also once covered with prairie potholes. I assume that like the tallgrass prairies, these too were blanketed with wildflowers. Many of those wetland plants are now hard to find. Earleaf false foxglove (Agalinis auriculata) isn’t necessarily a wetland plant, but it does like wet meadows, and sadly is listed as “rare” on many wildflower websites. 

Diane Porter of Fairfield first published this post in late August on My Gaia, an email newsletter “about getting to know nature” and “giving her a helping hand in our own backyards.” Diane also maintains the Birdwatching Dot Com website and bird blog.

My garden has been a golden extravaganza this summer. Masses of Partridge Peas (Chamaecrista fasciculata) planted themselves with the seeds that fell from last year’s plants. For a couple of months, they have bloomed with enthusiasm and with no help from me.

And they’ve been mobbed with bumblebees.

The Partridge Pea patch 

Katie Byerly of Cerro Gordo County is also known as Iowa Prairie Girl on YouTube. Her video about wild parsnip is at the end of this post.

I don’t use the word hate often. If you asked me if I liked black licorice, I would say “I don’t like black licorice.” I know I wouldn’t say “I hate black licorice.” Hate is a strong word, and I avoid using it. But I’m going to use it here: I hate wild parsnip!

Kenny Slocum, the owner/operator of Light Touch Ecological LLC, features another good wildflower find in northeast Iowa.

I left my job with the Clayton County Conservation Board in March of this year to pursue private land restoration full-time.

It was a leap of faith. I had done some forestry work on the side for several years, and finally felt like I had gotten enough to interest, and enough spousal support, to justify leaving behind the relative comforts of government work and benefits.

Financial concerns aside, I also worried I would come to miss the places I had spent the last decade restoring. I reminded myself often in that work, when I would find a primitive shelter left by behind by boy scouts who haven’t learned leave-no-trace or a bunch of morel stumps indicating someone had found my honey hole, that these lands belonged to everyone and I must abandon feelings of ownership.

I wanted to work more with private lands, in part because my area of northeast Iowa appears to have both the need on the landscape, and the appetite among the landowners for more of the kind of healing work I find valuable.

But on the other side of that coin lies, often, much more degraded landscapes. None but the most dedicated landowners have the practical capacity to engage with the land as often as I could in my prior role, to say nothing of the hands tied by various cost-share programs, for better or worse.

Diane Porter of Fairfield first published this post on My Gaia, an email newsletter “about getting to know nature” and “giving her a helping hand in our own backyards.” Diane also maintains the Birdwatching Dot Com website and bird blog.

I reached down to touch the yellowing fruit. I only noticed it because the leaves it was hiding under were withering away.

At my touch, the fruit dropped into my hand. It was soft.

So the Mayapples were ripe.

A month or two ago I had seen quite a few fruits hidden beneath the Mayapple leaves.

Now they were gone.

James Enright is a Sioux City native, avid hiker, fish keeper, and prairie enthusiast.

In the spring of 2025, I began a job on the road that would eventually allow me to visit over 50 different prairies and preserves all over northwest Iowa over the summer and fall. I’ve been hiking the Loess Hills most of my adult life, but I typically cut back on my hikes and prairie visits during the long, cold Iowa winters. Working on the road, however, allowed me to continue to seek out new prairies and hiking spots that I could enjoy once the weather warms up and the prairies become lively again.

Last summer, I visited as many different prairies as possible, mainly because they were all new to me, and I had no expectations. This continued through early winter when I decided to take a different approach. I began visiting prairies with the hope of learning how to ID seed heads, so I could spend the rest of the winter determining which prairies were the most diverse and interesting to visit in 2026. I love all of our public lands, but some prairies are just more diverse and undisturbed than others.

After visiting dozens of prairies—remnant, restored, and completely reconstructed—I decided to narrow my focus to remnant prairies, at least through spring until the reconstructions, which tend to be summer-heavy in terms of seeding, can catch up.

Melissa Wubben lives on a farm in Warren County.

Monarch butterflies have become an iconic species, representing the plight of all of our native pollinators struggling with habitat loss and population decline. They are great ambassadors for conservation because they are so easy to love. From the scientific fascination of their unparalleled migratory journey to the symbolism of their metamorphosis from caterpillar to beautiful butterfly, they have something to offer everyone, and nature enthusiasts have begun planting and nurturing milkweeds to help them recover.

Milkweeds and Monarchs are linked together in people’s minds, and for good reason: milkweeds are the host plants for Monarch caterpillars. They are a necessity for any Monarch to complete its life cycle. Milkweeds do not, however, provide everything that a Monarch needs. While the adult Monarch butterfly will consume the nectar of milkweed flowers, they need additional sources of nectar to sustain them throughout the season, which typically runs from May through early October in Iowa.

In order to create a successful Monarch habitat, it is helpful to consider the whole life cycle of these butterflies.

Katie Byerly of Cerro Gordo County is also known as Iowa Prairie Girl on YouTube.

In spite of its tall, straight stature (between 2-5 feet tall), Prairie dogbane (Apocynum cannabinum), also known as Indian hemp, is often overlooked.

I really like Prairie dogbane. I often say out loud, “Oh, look, Prairie dogbane!” Sometimes I’m pointing it out to others. But more likely I’m just saying it to myself—and probably to the plant itself. I feel the plant needs to know it’s appreciated. 

Bruce Morrison is a working artist and photographer living with his wife Georgeann in rural southeast O’Brien County, Iowa. Bruce works from his studio/gallery–a renovated late 1920s brooding house/sheep barn. You can follow Morrison on his artist blog, Prairie Hill Farm Studio, or visit his website at Morrison’s studio.

Iowa’s Western Echinacea

For many years I have become familiar with the Narrow-leaved Purple Coneflower (Echinacea angustifolia), sometimes just referred to as Narrow-leaved Echinacea. In our northwest corner and the entire western edge of Iowa, this is the most common native Echinacea species.

The BONAP’s North American Plant Atlas (NAPA) shows it as stretching as far as from western Iowa and Minnesota, all the way to Montana, Wyoming, the Dakotas, down through Nebraska, Oklahoma, Colorado, Texas, and into New Mexico.

Kristie Brown is a homeschooling mom who has dedicated her life to creating a better world for her children and future generations. Self‑taught in languages, cooking, sewing, gardening, and more, she has spent countless hours in independent study. She believes children are the foundation of tomorrow, and it is her calling to give them opportunities and a life richer than those who came before us.

In the summer of 1995, we were having a family get-together at my grandparents’ house on Walker Street in Des Moines, Iowa. I was five years old, playing outside, but I could still hear all the adults talking about my grandparents’ neighbor to the right of their home. It was a woman who was unusual and kept to herself. She had a beautiful Victorian home, but what captivated me was hiding behind it. I could see all the wildflowers peeking through her backyard fence.

The adults debated calling the city on her for having such a wild yard and said she must have bugs and rodents in her home. I did not agree with them, but being five, I knew to keep my mouth shut when the adults were talking. I remember seeing all the life in the yard. The purple cone flowers and the dozens of butterflies sparked my imagination. I was the only one in the neighborhood who admired the yard.

Until recently, I didn’t realize how much this particular moment in my life would affect me as an adult. I was consumed with envy, and I wanted to live there with her.

Diane Porter of Fairfield first published this post on My Gaia, an email newsletter “about getting to know nature” and “giving her a helping hand in our own backyards.” Diane also maintains the Birdwatching Dot Com website and bird blog.

Down the grassy slope from my house, in June a great tangle of wild roses suddenly blooms with hundreds of flowers. They billow in every tint from deep raspberry through pale pink to nearly white.

It is the Climbing Rose (Rosa setigera), one of Iowa’s several wild roses. According to botanists, it is considered uncommon in Iowa. I’m rather pleased to find that it grows on my land.

Katie Byerly of Cerro Gordo County is also known as Iowa Prairie Girl on YouTube.

I like it when plants are named after the supposed useful functions they provided to our forefathers. After scanning the Iowa wildflower Wednesday index, I found that our writers have covered several of these named plants. We have snakeroot and boneset, fleabane and catchfly, compass and cup plants to list a few. Then there’s bedstraw – Laura Belin covered the “cleavers” bedstraw (Galium aparine) back in 2020. 

Here I will review a different plant in the bedstraw/madder family: Northern Bedstraw (Galium boreale). And yes, just like the name suggests, these plants were used for mattress stuffing. 

Northern bedstraw with Prairie phlox:

Paul Deaton is a lifelong Democrat living in Johnson County whose first political work was for Lyndon Johnson’s presidential campaign.

Is reed canary grass an invasive species? This photo suggests that it is.

Nature nerd Emily Bredthauer took the pictures enclosed below in April and May. (It’s better not to be too specific about the location of rare wildflowers.)

On a quintessential rainy April day, I traveled east hoping to see an early woodland wildflower I’d not beheld before: Prairie Trillium (Trillium recurvatum). “Thank you,” I couldn’t help but say quietly out loud as my eyes feasted on dozens of trilliums in all manner of early protuberance. As I looked and oohed and awed, the trees gently informed of the oncoming rain by the soft sound of drops on their newly grown leaves. The thunder kindly reminded me of the forecast. 

Already feeling successful in my day’s quest, I had no expectations for the next new-to-me trail. The scent of rich earth greeted me as I entered the woods. The rain had brought the color out in everything. The greens, browns, and oranges were outstanding in their vivid variety. 

I stopped to admire a very solid oak tree, gazing down at her feet where a very distinctive leaf caught my attention. Oval, like the leaves children might draw in pictures of daisies, with a thick pink petiole. The green stuck out from the orange and brown leaf collage of the forest floor. The identifier that confirmed the ID without a doubt, the conspicuous white parallel pinstripes. 

Jo Hain lives on a farm in Cerro Gordo county and likes to explore and photograph nature.

Last year, I went to a local county conservation park and saw a bush by a popular fishing spot. I checked my plant app, which identified it as Ninebark (Physocarpus opulifolius). I was determined to see what it looked like in bloom.

This spring, I remembered. I went in late May and was not disappointed. It was everywhere! Especially the south and west parts of the park. Inside the park and along the outside of the park.

Bear in mind, this park used to be a gravel pit. The terrain is pretty inhospitable to a lot of vegetation. Very rocky. But, Ninebark said, “Pffft, challenge accepted!”

Patrick Swanson has been restoring a Harrison County prairie. Click the links to read his posts about previous LoHi Treks in June 2021, May 2023, October 2024, and April 2025.

Just in time to witness the earliest spring wildflowers, this year’s multi-day LoHi (Loess Hills) Trek was held April 8-12, with Monona County serving as our base camp. This was my fifth LoHi Trek, and was a homecoming of sorts for me, as it was five years ago that the inaugural version of the LoHi Trek was launched in this special part of the Loess Hills. I even pitched my tent in the same place by the pond that gave me such an unforgettable experience during the first Trek.

Golden Hills Resource Conservation and Development once again coordinated the event, and recently highlighted our daily hikes and activities as we traversed through public and private lands (with special landowner permission) in portions of Woodbury and Monona counties. I am grateful to them and the many partners, businesses, and volunteers who helped make this Trek possible. 

As a preamble to our arrival at our base camp, we stopped by the nearby Tuuli Farm to see the Farm’s signature flock of sheep. Early April is lambing season on the farm. Being able to spend some time watching two newborn lambs nestled together in their fold being looked after by their recovering momma was a special treat. 

Leland Searles has had a long interest in birding and wildflowers. He combines that with over fifteen years as a consultant in ecological assessment and restoration, along with graduate studies in environmental and psychological anthropology. His recent writing addresses some facet of ecology, often with awareness of social interests and power that shape our regard for the environment.

Triosteum: “having three pits [seeds] as hard as bone.” This genus of plants in the Caprifoliaceae family has six species, with three in North America and three in East Asia. Two occur in the Midwest: Orangefruit Horse Gentian (Triosteum aurantiacum), and Late Horse Gentian, Feverwort, or Tinker’s Weed (Triosteum perfoliatum, from the appearance of the stem perforating the leaves). In my experience, the last is the more common in Iowa.

Diane Porter of Fairfield first published this post in April on My Gaia, an email newsletter “about getting to know nature” and “giving her a helping hand in our own backyards.” Diane also maintains the Birdwatching Dot Com website and bird blog.

Sunshine lit up the forest floor. Overhead, tall walnut and oak trees had no leaves yet. A white trout lily (Erythronium albidum) stood alone, just above the sparse new grass. Its petals arched in arabesques, as if lifting the flower above the earth.

Some accident of placement or ancestry, of light and moisture, had singled out this one to bloom today. Nearby, the other trout lilies were still asleep on pink stems, their buds drooping.

Bleeding Heartland’s Iowa wildflowers series returns for a fifteenth year. Past posts are linked here (alphabetized by the plant’s common name) and here (for posts covering many species).

Leland Searles has had a long interest in birding and wildflowers. He combines that with over fifteen years as a consultant in ecological assessment and restoration, along with graduate studies in environmental and psychological anthropology. His recent writing addresses some facet of ecology, often with awareness of social interests and power that shape our regard for the environment. This essay first appeared on his Substack newsletter, Home on Earth.

In the past two weeks, I have already visited three woodlands to see which early plants have emerged. Over those three visits, the phenology is clearly visible: a few small leaves poking from the chilly but warming soil and no trees in leaf; larger leaves and more species on the surface and swelling buds on trees and bushes; and finally, a few leaf buds bursting into miniature, sometimes crumpled leaves and flowers hovering above or nestled within the growing stems.

Among the emerging plants are: Black Snakeroot (Sanicula, leaves only), Bloodroot (Sanguinea canadensis, flowers topping encircling leaves only on April 5), Dutchman’s Breeches (Dicentra cucullata, at first leaves and now blooms), Elm-Leaved Goldenrod (Solidago ulmifolia, recognizable basal leaves), Fragile Fern (Cystopteris fragilis, from tiny fiddleheads to expanding blades), Heart-Leaved or Woodland Blue Aster (Symphyotrichum cordifolium, basal leaves around last year’s dry stems), Violets (Viola, leaves only), Virginia Bluebells (Mertensia virginiana, from leaves to the first flowers), and Wild Ginger (Asarum canadense, the first fuzzy leaves).

Normally I would publish this post on the last Wednesday of the calendar year. But thanks to Governor Kim Reynolds, I was tied up on New Year’s Eve writing about the December 30 election results in Iowa Senate district 16.

I enclose below a photo from each of Bleeding Heartland’s 26 posts about wildflowers last year. This series has become a favorite for many readers since 2012.

As in 2022, 2023, and 2024, guest authors and photographers carried much of the load. In alphabetical order: Emily Bredthauer, Katie Byerly, Lora Conrad, James Enright, Jeff Ewoldt, Jo Hain, Beth Lynch, Bruce Morrison, Diane Porter, Leland Searles, Kenny Slocum, Patrick Swanson, and Melissa Wubben. Special thanks to James, Jo, and Melissa, who contributed to Bleeding Heartland for the first time (but I hope not the last!) in 2025.

This series will return sometime during April or May of 2026. Please reach out to me if you have photographs to share, especially of native plants I haven’t featured yet, or any plant that hasn’t been featured in the past eight years. The full archive of more than 300 posts featuring more than 250 species is available here. I have also compiled links to several dozen posts that covered many plants found in one area, rather than focusing on a single kind of wildflower.

For those looking for wildflower pictures year round, or seeking help with plant ID, check out the Facebook groups Flora of Iowa or Iowa wildflower enthusiasts. If you’d like a book to take with you on nature outings, Lora Conrad reviewed some of the best wildflower guides last year. A book featuring plants native to our part of the country is probably more reliable than the plant ID app on your phone.

When Thanksgiving arrives, it’s time to put this series on winter hiatus. Iowa wildflower Wednesday will return sometime during the spring of 2026.

Please reach out to me if you’d like to contribute wildflower photographs next year. Guest posts focusing on one species at different stages of development are always welcome, especially if you want to spotlight a plant never seen before on Bleeding Heartland, or not featured in more than five years. The full Iowa wildflower Wednesday archive is here, alphabetized by the plant’s common name.

I also enjoy publishing essays about many native plants found in one park or prairie, or along a particular trail. You can find lots of inspiration in the posts linked here.

The Iowa wildflower enthusiasts Facebook group remains active year-round, for anyone seeking a break from social media negativity, help with plant IDs, or advice on what to do with your seeds or garden over the winter.

My long list of things to be thankful for includes a fantastic group of guest authors and photographers. (Scroll through the “wildflowers” tag to see their work.) I enclose below a collection of photos by Jeff Ewoldt, who recently found many plants still blooming in central Iowa. Sometimes, unusually warm autumn weather can produce new flowers on plants that normally bloom in the spring or summer.

Wishing you health, happiness, and good food over this long holiday weekend.

James Enright is a Sioux City native, avid hiker, fish keeper, and prairie enthusiast.

The 36-mile Glacial Trail Scenic Byway loops through the Little Sioux River valley, covering parts of O’Brien, Buena Vista, Clay, and Cherokee counties. Along the way, it reveals prairie bluffs, oak savanna, timber, deep ravines, and fertile farmland. I first visited with my wife several years ago and was immediately struck by the landscape. I didn’t return until May of 2025, when a new job required travel throughout northwest Iowa. Since then, I’ve driven at least one stretch of the byway more than 50 times this summer.

There is a sense of familiarity in these glacial hills that reminds me of my native Loess Hills. The prairie mostly occupies hillsides too steep to plow, tile, or even graze. Some lower regions also contain mixes of remnant and restored prairie. The ridges are generally dry, open, and exposed to near-constant wind. I encounter many drought-tolerant plants here that I see back home, including rough and dotted blazing stars, spiny golden asters, silky asters, and various drought-tolerant grasses like dropseed and muhly.

If I didn’t know better, I might expect to see yucca, skeletonweed, or prairie bluets on the west- or southwest-facing ridges. This region contains more remnant prairie than anywhere else in Iowa outside of the Loess Hills.

Katie Byerly of Cerro Gordo County is also known as Iowa Prairie Girl on YouTube.

Have you ever noticed that some flowers have fun nicknames, while others have none? Old farmers know Marsh marigolds as cowslips. Soapwort is also called Bouncing Bet, and then there’s Common mullein . . . also known as cowboy toilet paper, flannel leaf, Quaker’s rouge, and Aaron’s rod, to name a few. 

On the other hand, some wildflowers have few nicknames. Asters and Goldenrod come to mind. Perhaps that is because both these wildflowers come in many varieties, which are hard to differentiate. I imagine our forefathers may have felt the same way I do. . . another #%! aster. Heck, even Sylvan Runkel didn’t take time to recongnize all the asters and goldenrods in either of his Wildflowers of the Tallgrass Prairie or Wildflowers of the Iowa Woodlands books.

Editor’s note from Laura Belin: As Halloween approaches, I am republishing an article by Beth Lynch, professor emerita of biology at Luther College. She wrote this piece for Bleeding Heartland in 2017, adapting an article called “Tiny joys of a botanist,” first published in November 2013. Beth takes great delight in finding rare plants tucked away in the hills and valleys around her and is dedicated to protecting and restoring habitats for native species.

I write to share with you one of my tiny joys of late fall. I took this photograph during the first week of November. What is it? A twig with some leaves, right? Look again. What are those yellow stringy things hanging from the twig? Spiders? Whiskers? Look closely.

These are the bright yellow petals of the witch hazel flowers. Think about it: flowers blooming in November! Every fall when most of the leaves have dropped from the trees and the sun is weak, I look for these cheery little flowers on the witch hazels. They bring a bit of warmth to the cold dark days when I seem to need it most. Tiny joy, indeed.

Diane Porter of Fairfield first published this post in September on My Gaia, an email newsletter “about getting to know nature” and “giving her a helping hand in our own backyards.” Diane also maintains the Birdwatching Dot Com website and bird blog.

On the first full day of fall, the Blue sage (Salvia azurea) of my garden is in full bloom. Flower spikes are head high. Some are deep blue, others paler. The ones I love best are the color of an Iowa summer sky.

Down in the heart of each flower, the petals narrow and form a well. Inside, a drop of nectar pools. It is ready for a visitor, someone whose flight is powered by sugar, someone who will pollinate the blossom.

Usually it’s a bumblebee who comes. It lands on the ruffled platform of the lower petal and pushes its head into the flower, probing for sweetness with its tongue.

Nature nerd Emily Bredthauer took most of the pictures enclosed below between August 30 and October 4, 2025 in Story, Marion, and Dallas counties.

I feel so blessed when I come upon a plant I don’t recognize. It’s like a gift from the Universe, inviting my curiosity to be satiated by the endless wonder of the natural world.

In late August, Lobelia inflata was a gift from my rain-soaked sacrament—the very small lavender-colored flowers caught my eye amongst the bevy of bright green. 

Bruce Morrison is a working artist and photographer living with his wife Georgeann in rural southeast O’Brien County, Iowa. Bruce works from his studio/gallery–a renovated late 1920s brooding house/sheep barn. You can follow Morrison on his artist blog, Prairie Hill Farm Studio, or visit his website at Morrison’s studio.

I can’t remember the first time I visited a prairie during the Fall season, but believe it was on Cayler Prairie in Dickinson County. I do remember how struck I was with the color everywhere! It had never occurred to me that prairie habitat would exhibit this color change—duh! So used to autumn color in the forested landscape; the trees that we herald each fall lighting up the scenery with vivid to subtle colors of reds, yellows, orange and ambers! But grasses and plants of prairies? Well, why not?

All plants have the same triggers that cause a color change when autumn arrives. As temperatures drop and daylight duration shortens, chlorophyll (the green pigment) breaks down, revealing other pigments. The carotenoids in differing plants bring on yellows and orange hues as the plant chlorophyll fades. And other plants produce anthocyanins in response to sunlight and cooler temperatures, resulting in red and purple colors. Different species have varying pigment compositions, affecting each type’s fall colors. For instance in the image of Stiff goldenrods (Solidago rigida):

Katie Byerly of Cerro Gordo County is also known as Iowa Prairie Girl on YouTube.

Occasionally when I go fishing with my husband, the desired fish will be in the “shallows” of the lake. Fishing the shallows often requires casting from the boat towards shore. For any wildflower-loving fisherperson, this opens up the opportunity to observe the aquatic plants growing around the anchored boat.

That is how I first recall noticing Spatterdock—casting for walleyes in Clear Lake.  

Diane Porter of Fairfield first published this post in July on My Gaia, an email newsletter “about getting to know nature” and “giving her a helping hand in our own backyards.” Diane also maintains the Birdwatching Dot Com website and bird blog.

Winged Loosestrife (Lythrum alatum) is a slender waif. It grows up surrounded by bigger, taller plants. I didn’t discover it until we had been neighbors for almost twenty years.

I found it in a natural opening in the woods at the bottom of a hill. It’s near an intermittent creek, surrounded by trees. I named that spot the Pocket Prairie. To explore it, I mowed a trail through it.

The ground is often wet there. That may be why trees haven’t invaded. It is home to wildflowers that I don’t find up top, where the ground is drier. It’s a magical feeling to enter. This Pocket Prairie is where I discovered a native Iowa wildflower named Winged Loosestrife.

Diane Porter of Fairfield first published this post on My Gaia, an email newsletter “about getting to know nature” and “giving her a helping hand in our own backyards.” Diane also maintains the Birdwatching Dot Com website and bird blog.

On September 9 I watched a Ruby-throated Hummingbird visit the purple blossoms of Rough Blazing Star (Liatris aspera). For a couple of seconds she hovers at bill’s length from the flowers, then moves slightly up or around the stalk. I couldn’t see her tongue, but I knew she was using it to slurp out the nectar.

Most adult males had already migrated out of Iowa by that time. Females and the young of the year linger a while longer. They zip around seeking flower sugar, which they will put away in the form of hummingbird fat. They must store calories to power their long migratory flight south, right across the Gulf of Mexico and on into Central America.

Kenny Slocum is the naturalist and natural resource manager for the Clayton County Conservation Board.

I remember when I first moved back home to Iowa, I worked hard to identify plants mostly out of a desire to eat them. I would scour books on wild edibles, go out into the field, find what I thought looked like, say, chokecherry, come back home to double-check the references, and eventually give up because the field never matches the guide.

Foraged plate circa 2015

Eventually, Seek by iNaturalist came along and put those field guides right into the palm of my hand. Even better, the Almighty App rendered moot the tedious process of perusing all “ pink flowers,” or all “August bloomers,” or whatever section I had to examine based on how an author decided to organize his or her guide.

Suddenly, with a simple wave of the camera, I had my identification. Or so I thought.

James Enright is a Sioux City native, avid hiker, fish keeper, and prairie enthusiast.

I have spent most of my adult life hiking the Loess Hills prairies. The rugged Loess prairies are my home. I was born there, raised there, and I am content to spend the rest of my days hiking those bluffs and prairies.

Just over a year ago, I started sharing pictures of my Loess Hills adventures and information regarding the various preserves I visit on social media. I was surprised by the amount of feedback I received. To my surprise, even many locals were unaware that these preserves existed.

I spent most of the winter and early spring of 2025 hiking and photographing various preserves in the Sioux City area. I visited some of my favorites with snow on the ground: Stone State Park, Heendah Hills, The Broken Kettle Grasslands, Riverside Bluffs, Five Ridge Prairie, The Sioux City Prairie, and others.

Things changed in May 2025 when I began a new career path, which would take me on the road all over northwest Iowa five days per week. I decided to save my hiking posts for long weekend hikes in the hills until a fateful mishap at work left me lost and confused about my whereabouts.

Lora Conrad lives on a small farm in Van Buren County.

Poison Ivy (Toxicodendron radicans) is a plant anyone in Iowa should learn to identify. Most of us have heard stories about it, seen it (or thought we did), and many have experienced it.

Poison ivy is also the topic of many folk sayings—some helpful, some not, some just confusing. This article will help you learn how to identify this plant, what its effects are, and which of those many sayings are accurate.

HOW TO IDENTIFY POISON IVY

The genus Toxicodendron includes Poison Ivy—both Eastern (Toxicodendron radicans) and Western (T. rydbergii), as well as Poison Oak and Poison Sumac. Poison Ivy was originally placed in the genus Rhus (the Sumacs) but by the 1930s, botanists began separating the irritating plants from the other Sumacs. They were assigned to the genus Toxicodendron which is Greek for “poison tree.” Both species of Poison Ivy occur in Iowa. T. radicans is the familiar trailing or climbing vine that is called Eastern Poison Ivy. It is widespread throughout Iowa. You can see why it is called a poison tree:

Leland Searles has had a long interest in birding and wildflowers. He combines that with over fifteen years as a consultant in ecological assessment and restoration, along with graduate studies in environmental and psychological anthropology. His recent writing addresses some facet of ecology, often with awareness of social interests and power that shape our regard for the environment. This essay first appeared on his Substack newsletter, Home on Earth.

On August 13, I drove some back roads on the way from the Des Moines area to Grinnell. Often I do this, despite the extra gas it uses, to see what birds sit on the utility poles and wires, spot plants and plant populations in the roadways and adjacent riparian areas, and collect a few data points. In addition, when the native plant species are in seed, I stop to collect some seed to scatter elsewhere.

This activity has become a near-habit in the past ten-plus years, as my awareness of indigenous plant species has grown. That happened because I contracted with three counties over several years to conduct roadside vegetation surveys under the Iowa Roadside Vegetation Management program.

Melissa Wubben lives on a farm in Warren County.

Since childhood, I have had a keen interest in the plants and animals that share the planet with us. Whether I was learning to identify “weeds” while walking beans on our family farm or dreaming about seeing particularly pretty birds as I flipped through my mom’s bird identification book, nature provided ample opportunities for education and appreciation.

Later, my fascination with nature turned toward conservation, and my husband and I started our farm with a desire to integrate conservation and agricultural practices.

Our journey began with the purchase of a small flock of sheep in 2012, the first year of severe drought that would last for several years. I began reading about pasture management, soil and water conservation practices, and anything else applicable that I could get my hands on. Eventually, this research led me to native plants.

Jo Hain lives on a farm in Cerro Gordo county and likes to explore and photograph nature.

I was in my garden a couple years ago and I noticed some plants coming up. Looked like catnip to me, so I left it alone. It got taller and no longer looked like catnip.

Then I thought it was Stinging Nettle, so I didn’t want to touch it. I used my plant app and it said it was American Dragonhead (Dracocephalum parviflorum).

Plant apps are useful but not always correct. So I did look it up and, yes, it was American dragonhead. I posted it to the Iowa wildflower enthusiasts Facebook group. Someone confirmed it there as well.

Katie Byerly of Cerro Gordo County is also known as Iowa Prairie Girl on YouTube.

The American lotus (Nelumbo lutea) is a big, bold, beautiful aquatic wildflower.

However, like all shallow water dwelling plants, it presents with an inconvenience: accessibility. I have several funny stories of coming home wet and muddy (and sometime shoeless) after hunting marsh-loving wildflowers. Because the American lotus thrives in quiet backwaters of rivers and edges of lakes and ponds, I have considered myself lucky anytime I find one blooming close enough to a dock or water’s edge to snap a picture. Otherwise, up close observations of the plant require a boat or wading.

This July, I kayaked what locals call Kaster’s Cover in Ventura, Iowa. This is the smaller section of Clear Lake on the east side of McIntosh State Park.

Bruce Morrison is a working artist and photographer living with his wife Georgeann in rural southeast O’Brien County, Iowa. Bruce works from his studio/gallery–a renovated late 1920s brooding house/sheep barn. You can follow Morrison on his artist blog, Prairie Hill Farm Studio, or visit his website at Morrison’s studio.

Just a couple years back, Hairy Four O’Clock (Mirabilis albida) was a new one for me; another native Four O’Clock to Iowa—never knew! Thanks to a heads up from friend Lynn Graesing, who discovered it on county ground (southeast O’Brien County) that was once part of her family years ago. Lynn had taken some pictures, but I could not tell her what it was, so went out with my camera to see it for myself and took a few images.