Photos of the Week – October 21, 2026

It’s getting hard to find any wildflowers still in bloom. Insect diversity is way down. We had our first frost last week. I think it’s about time to say goodbye to the 2026 growing season.

That doesn’t mean prairies are finished showing off, though. I was in Kentucky and Tennessee most of last week for the Eastern Native Grasslands Symposium (great conference – thank you for inviting and inspiring me!) but I’ve still managed several recent trips out into local prairies. I’ve seen plenty of beauty during each prairie visit. The most recent of those visits was this morning when I helped Mike Schrad check his small mammal traps (we caught just one plains pocket mouse) at the Platte River Prairies.

I arrived early this morning and found a variegated meadowhawk on its overnight roost. The sun wasn’t up yet and there was a thin layer of fog across the prairie. I got low to the ground and managed a few photos of the dragonfly before Mike arrived and it was time to get to work. Surprisingly, this was my first photo of a meadowhawk during this fall migration. I normally run across quite a few of them in late September and October as they’re moving southward through Nebraska, but I’ve just not been in the right places at the right times until today, apparently.

Variegated meadowhawk dragonfly in pre-dawn light
Tall thistle seed (Cirsium altissimum)
Milkweed bug nymph

I have, of course, continued my photography of milkweed seeds. You might be getting tired of seeing them but I’m not. Feel free to skim past the photos but I’m going to keep putting them in front of you.

This photo reminded me of virga – the rain that falls from clouds but never hits the ground
Common milkweed seed
Seeds coming out of a milkweed faucet?
Backlit milkweed seeds

I’ve also been catching a lot of sunrises recently. It’s a lot easier to do that this time of year when the sun is coming up at almost 8am. It hardly feels like a challenge at all to get up before the sun these days. Now the challenge has switched to being able to get out to the prairie and then back to work before people expect me to be on calls or in meetings.

Sunrise and milkweed pod #1
Sunrise and milkweed pod #2
More milkweed seeds at sunrise
Yet another milkweed seed at sunrise

This week, I caught a sunrise at Lincoln Creek Prairie that provided some terrific color. Just as the color was starting to fade, a big bank of clouds slid slowly across the sky and gradually squeezed the light out. It was the unusual situation in which the intensity of light decreased as the sunrise progressed. Here’s a series of photos showing the photos I took as the clouds stole my light.

Peak sunrise light with wild bergamot (Monarda fistulosa)
Illinois tick trefoil and a milkweed seed
Bergamot in front of an ever-tightening band of color
Common evening primrose pods
Green ash leaves as the clouds swallowed the sun
Milkweed seeds just before the light disappeared
Milkweed seeds after the sun went behind the clouds
Last shot of the morning – wild bergamot

The morning after I returned from some warm sunny days in Kentucky, we had our first frost of the season here at home. I stole a few minutes in my backyard prairie garden and captured a few shots of the frost before the sun burned it off.

Bergamot and frost
Stiff goldenrod leaf
Wild bergamot flower
Black-eyed Susan
Leadplant leaf
The same stiff goldenrod leaf as above as the sunlight was getting almost too intense to work with

I hope you’re having a great October so far. There’s a lot happening in the world, but if you’re like me, a little time in the prairie can make it all a little easier to handle. Be well, friends.

Photos of the Week – October 9, 2026

My adult son has been giving me a hard time for several days about when I’m finally going to post again. I want to be clear that I’m posting this today because I want to, not because of his pestering. You hear me, John? This has nothing to do with you.

I hope you like the photos, though.

We’re nine days into October but local prairies are still buzzing. It’s getting harder to find blooming wildflowers, but when you do, hoo boy, are they getting a lot of attention from local wildlife. As flowers diminish in number, seeds take their place. That’s kind of how it works. Seed production happens all summer, of course, because various flower species bloom and make seeds on a staggered schedule across the season. In the fall, though, seed heads really take center stage.

I was at our family prairie last week and was pleased to see that recent rains had filled our pond/wetland. I haven’t seen water in it for what seems like several years. I expected to see a bunch of dragonflies hanging around, but I mainly saw damselflies, which was also just fine. I hung out with one specific damselfly for a while as the sun set and photographed it through the changing light…

The katydid below has gone through a rough patch, it appears. It is missing one and a half of its legs on its right side. On the one hand, that might be why it sat so nicely for me while I photographed it. On the other hand, if I’d recently lost a couple legs, I think that would make me less trusting and more likely to skedaddle – even awkwardly – when something large approached. Either way, I’m glad it survived whatever traumatic event it went through.

Katydid with 4.5 legs
Tall thistle seeds (Cirsium altissimum)
Tall thistle seed caught on a stem

Some of the most abundant insects around right now are drone flies. I think most of what I’m seeing are yellow-shouldered drone flies, which, as far as I can tell, are not a migratory species. There are other drone fly species that do migrate, though, and we still have a lot to learn about migratory flies, so who knows, maybe we just haven’t caught yellow-shouldered drone flies at it yet. What I do know is that they’re very abundant in our backyard prairie – but also in every other prairie I’ve visited recently.

Drone fly on heath aster in my backyard.
Another drone fly on heath aster.
A different fly on sideoats grama (still in my backyard).

Heath aster and stiff goldenrod are the last two native wildflowers blooming in our nascent backyard prairie garden. Nascent is the kind of word I like to throw in now and then to prove I’m literate. Literate and sophisticated are different things, though. Sophisticated people don’t write dumb quizzes. I assume. They probably don’t think the word “booger” is funny, either, which proves there’s more to life than being sophisticated.

Anyway, drone flies, sweat bees, wasps, moths, butterflies, and beetles have all been descending upon those last wildflowers in our yard. It’s been a few days now since I’ve seen a bumblebee, which I just realized as I started this paragraph. I wonder if their season is over or if they’re just going elsewhere for sustenance this week.

Stiff goldenrod is still blooming in our home prairie garden and drone flies seem to appreciate it.
This orange sulphur butterfly had to work hard to find space between flies.
Here’s a feather.

Insects like crickets, grasshoppers, and katydids are still playing their late season music. I’m going to miss that when it’s gone. Lots of all three were feeding on sunflower seeds (I assume) at the Platte River Prairies earlier this week.

Tree cricket at the Platte River Prairies
Katydid at the Platte River Prairies

I made a cool discovery in our yard yesterday. Most stink bugs feed on plants, but a few species are predatory. At least some of those predatory species have sharp points on their “shoulders”, which helps identify them as such. I’ve never been able to find or photograph a predatory stink bug with prey. That is, until this week, when I found two different ones within a few minutes of each other – right in my backyard. What a great surprise!

Stink bug (Podisus sp.) with a drone fly (of course).
A different individual of the same stink bug species with a male paper wasp.

I went out to Lincoln Creek Prairie briefly this morning and was surprised to find spittle bugs on pitcher sage. I don’t remember seeing them on that plant species before, but that doesn’t mean much. I did wonder, though, how they overwinter. Do they need to hurry up and finish feeding so they can pupate before winter? Or can they survive as larvae? I’ve never seen frozen spittle bug bubbles in the winter, but wouldn’t that be something?

Spittle bug bubbles on pitcher sage.

As happens every year, fall brings milkweed seeds and I’m unable to resist photographing them until everyone but me gets tired of looking at the photos. Here are just a few of the ones from this morning.

Milkweed seeds by themselves are pretty great, but I also found some insects on milkweed seeds and managed some photographs of those as well. I don’t think the mosquito was feeding on the milkweed seed, but I’m pretty sure the little bug was.

Mosquito roosting on milkweed seeds.
A bug (dirt-colored seed bug, I think) silhouetted against the sunrise on a milkweed seed.

This is the final paragraph of the post where I should write something that summarizes what I’ve covered so far. Or refer back to my introductory paragraph. I’m not going to do that this time.