The Illinois Prairie, a Foolproof Solution to Writers’ Block

Anyone who has done any writing, either professionally or for their own personal enrichment, has experienced writers’ block. It is frustrating. It feels impossible to shake it off. When I experience writers’ block it helps to think about what I am going to write for a while before I can put it into words.

When I began my career in the Forest Preserve District of Cook County as a Naturalist, I often had to write articles for the District Digest, which was a wonderful newsletter that anyone could receive, if they wanted it. There was always a quick turn around on it and I typically had several ideas in my head on what to write; sometimes nothing presented itself. On those occasions, my supervisor would suggest that I take a walk, and surely an idea would present itself. That suggestion made sense, after all, John Muir once said, “In every walk with nature, one receives far more than one seeks.” I generally went out to various Forest Preserves in the Palos Division in northeastern Illinois, which I consider my home turf. I walked in Spears Woods, Country Lane Woods and my favorite, Cranberry Slough Nature Preserve.

Cranberry Slough Nature Preserve is a special place, with unique wetlands, woodlands with beautiful oak trees and small pockets of prairies. This stunning area has been monitored and stewarded by Dr. Dennis Nyberg, a biologist and volunteer steward of Cranberry Slough Nature Preserve for decades. I remember an early spring day in the early 1990s when I was walking through one of the prairies, looking to see if the woodpeckers had eaten the larva inside goldenrod galls, when I smelled the fragrance of a wetland just waking from its winter slumber and came across mountain mint (Pyncnanthemum sp.). The minty odor from the seed head that over wintered was so refreshing I said to myself, ‘this is where I need to be.’ I walked back to my desk with a clear head and a good idea for my writing. So, when I was asked by the OutdoorIllinois Journal editor to write an article, I said yes, but then the writers block set in. What will I write? What will I do? I felt a little anxiety.

The answer proved simple: follow John Muir’s advice, go to the prairie, you’ll find something there. And then some. What would I receive? Would I see birds like the dark-eyed juncos moving along in groups getting ready for their spring migration north? Would I encounter a male woodcock, also known as a timberdoodle, in the prairie or along the edge in the woods doing his wobble dance to attract a female? Would I see and hear wild turkey toms courting hens? I hoped to see some male bluebirds in the nest boxes but knew it likely was too soon in the year. As it was a nice warm sunny day in early spring, would it be possible to see a woodchuck or two coming out of hibernation, along with their close relative the thirteen-lined ground squirrel? You never know just what you will see in nature. You just must take that first step.

I decided to go to a prairie to lose my mind and recover my soul, so to speak. The closest prairie to me is the Siverly Prairie in Lincoln Trail State Park, where I work. In the early 1990s, this Clark County prairie was stewarded by former Illinois Department of Natural Resources (IDNR) biologist Jeff Ver Steeg and park staff who enhanced the site by collecting and spreading seeds of the site’s many remnant prairie plants. In recent years, IDNR staff, volunteers, Scouts and students have helped clear invasive shrub species, conducted prescribed burns and sprayed invasive plants with herbicide. That hard work has really paid off; it is beautiful. A couple of years ago, some talented summer conservation workers enhanced the site by building an observation platform, installing an interpretive sign and placing a bench made from recycled materials.

Siverly Prairie has become a perfect place for someone, like me, wanting to clear their mind. I tried not to focus on my never-ending to-do list for a while. Cleaning privies, timekeeping, turning on the water and ordering equipment for our Earth Day project had to wait just a bit. I tried to focus on a topic for my OutdoorIllinois Journal submission. I couldn’t think because of all the racket the crows were making. White-breasted nuthatches, chickadees, blue jays and a lonely field sparrow joined the chorus. It was loud and distracting; how dare they. I heard loud drumming on a tree in the distance, then I heard similar hammering from the other side of the prairie. Male pileated woodpeckers were letting each other know who was boss. I realized that I could not hear the cars traveling on the distant highway, nor tractors, trains or trucks. I was in that moment in a prairie.

To add to the sense of peace, I heard, felt and smelled the breeze as it rushed through leaves remaining on the oak trees and rustled through last year’s vegetation on the ground. As the breeze passed through the big bluestem it reached its destination, my face, eyes and nose. Sensory stimulation was swirling around me, but I was there seeking motivation for writing an article. High in an oak tree a fox squirrel emitted a loud bark. Now I don’t speak fluent squirrel, but I caught the gist of his tone of voice bark. He was not happy to see me in his neighborhood and suggested that I return to the office where I belong. I heard his message loud and clear.

Pausing for a moment to investigate Siverly Prairie, I saw a plant that stirred memories. I looked upon my old friend mountain mint, picked a seed head and took a good whiff of it. My soul was revived! I gazed at the plant for a moment, savoring the mintiness it left on my fingers and in the breeze. It was a wonderful distraction from my to-do list, but alas the list awaited me. I still had writers’ block.

I’m sorry folks, I don’t really know what to write about, I will keep working on it. In the meantime, I will make more trips out to the prairie, seeking a boost in creativity and reduction in the anxiety faced by a looming deadline. So should you.