Color Me Beige

It is easy to be completely gobsmacked by the brilliant shades of red, yellow and orange this time of year. Our local trees are in full autumn glory and they are putting on quite the show.

As a lover of beige, however, I cannot help but be drawn to the less ostentatious beauty of the prairie colors in our region. Here are a few ecru moments from a recent walk in my favorite park.

Dawn's early light sneaks in ever so slowly at the 44th parallel in the fall months. The air has a nip to it and the birds and I anticipate the warmth being promised by the rising sun. Feathers and jackets are always appreciated.

I push my way through thick, reedy grasses in my quest for a peek at migrating sparrows. They love this seed smorgasbord and flitter their way in and out of the vegetation. I wish they would wear name tags so I would feel more confident in my avian ID skills.

If I am lucky, my little bird friends perch in these trees for a few minutes. White-crowned sparrows, sporting their snappy striped helmets make little chipping sounds to let me know they are present. White-throated sparrows contribute a song or two. The chunky Harris's sparrow flies in to show off his black head gear and forceful voice. If your eyes are better than mine, maybe you can see them in the trees.

The fiery color of this grass shimmers in the sunlight as the wind tosses their stems to and fro. A Ring-necked pheasant flushes out of this area with its familiar cackle. I wanted to tell him to stay close to the park. It is not safe to venture too far during hunting season.

A stately Great Blue Heron adds a subtle wash of blue against the striated pinks of the granite walls surrounding the quarry pond. He is everything I am not. Quiet, calm and exceedingly patient.

Look closely and you will see a little Pied-billed Grebe looking for a good place to dive down for his food. He is a loner in this pond and the noisy Canadian Geese are not interested in his company. I was fortunate to watch this intrepid Grebe pop up from one of his dives with a rather large fish in his mouth. In seconds, he gulped his tasty meal down his gullet. Take that, you noisy geese.

No, I was not at Jurassic Park but there certainly is a prehistoric feel to this Snapper. His dinosaur-like tail and rather grumpy face reminded me to give him his space. It did feel good to have a walking partner that was slower than me, however.

Hordeum jubatum or Foxtail Barley adds a soft touch to the sharpness of some of the spiky plants. I think the Lakota people got it right when the name they use for this plant means "to tickle the face."

An iconic plant of the upper plains is the milkweed. It is quite toxic to many animals and has fallen out of favor as a desirable plant. Of course, the monarch butterflies would disagree. The fluffy seed explosion is also appreciated by chatty chickadees, diminutive goldfinches and busy, busy juncos returning to this area for the winter.

This clump of grass is taller than I am and is filled with bustling birds. Occasionally one will pop out long enough for me to get a viewing but most of the time they only let their presence known by clicks, whistles and a song or two.

No matter the color palette, I hope you enjoy your fall views. And remember, do not underestimate the power of beige.