When Winter Does Not Seem That Bad After All
By Read & Run Chicago guide Ryan Ricker
A note from Read & Run Chicago: Jerry Sullivan was a journalist, naturalist, and associate director of land management for the Cook County Forest Preserve District until he passed away in 2000. For many years, he entertained nature enthusiasts in the Chicago Reader’s Field & Street column. After his death, many of these essays were compiled into the book Hunting for Frogs on Elston. (The book is now out of print but you can purchase the ebook from Univeristy of Chicago Press. Thanks to the generous Forest Preserves of Cook County funding for an October 2022 event inspired by this book, readers and runners received a free, gently used copy.) He taught urban dwellers about Native American history, birds, wildflowers, and as the title of the book reveals, even where to hunt for frogs on Elston Avenue.
“Bioregionalists like to devise quizzes. They ask if you know what the local bedrock is or what kind of vegetation once covered the land where your house sits. But what they should ask people to do is tell the time of year by smelling the air. It really is possible. The temperature is 55 degrees. Is it an unusually warm day in early December? Is it the first stirring of spring in late February? Or is it one of those weird days in late May when winter seems to want to come back? If you have lived here a while and if you have been paying attention, you could take a couple of deep breaths, feel the breeze on your cheeks, and immediately know the answer.”
Following Sullivan’s instructions, here’s what I can tell you about the current time of year:
It’s the time of year in which your nose hair freezes within five seconds of stepping outside. I know this, because my day began with a trail run at Wolf Road Woods, part of the Palos Trail System. Seven brave souls joined me, largely (read: entirely) dependent on the promise of post-run pancakes. The sun was shining, the trail was empty, the snow was sparkling. It also happened to be 10 degrees below zero.
These cold snaps cause every Midwesterner, whether a 5th generation or a first timer, to question their life choices. It’s hard not to, as the sun sets earlier and earlier, or doesn’t even come out at all, making you more and more confident that you will, in fact, die alone (just kidding, this author is fine you guys, TOTALLY fine).
Now, our willingness to venture out at that temperature could be attributed to some mental instability, or maybe a chemical imbalance. Perhaps a heightened sense of invincibility. And speaking purely for myself, there might be some truth in that. But I’d argue another reason too. Being in nature, in exactly the last season one would think to do so, is the secret to surviving winter.
The trouble though, is that we’ve been convinced that Chicago has nothing worth seeing in the winter. We have no snow capped mountains, barely any sunshine, and the leaves have long ago fallen off our deciduous trees. But I’d argue that anyone who believes this simply isn’t trying hard enough. The nature out west - the national parks of California, the rainforests of Washington - is obvious beauty. You can drive the scenic highways and be amazed by sweeping vistas without even trying very hard. The Midwest, however, requires a bit more work to be fully appreciated. Take Sullivan’s experience of becoming a birder in his essay, “The Bird Hunter”:
“…for me, becoming a birder was like being cured of color blindness. Imagine seeing red and green after a lifetime of viewing the world in shades of gray. Through birding, I discovered that the natural world exists not just in special parks and preserves, but all around us.” [Emphasis my own.]
Absorb that, and let your mindset shift. It’s a game changer for Chicago winters, and general happiness too. With a bit of research and curiosity, a prairie is no longer just a prairie - grass here, grass there. A prairie becomes an opportunity for endless wonder. Which bugs have turned the stems of dead plants into winter homes? If I stand here long enough, will an owl or hawk swoop low over the field, hunting for their next meal? Will I hear the satisfying tap tap tap of a red bellied woodpecker nearby?
So get to work. Put on your thickest gloves, two pairs of pants, and all the wool you’ve got. Step outside and be rewarded with the wonders of the natural world - frozen rain hanging delicately from a branch of buckthorn (bountiful in our area and unfortunately very invasive), mysterious tracks in the mud (coyote? fox? maybe even a bobcat - the likelihood of seeing this one is debated but a girl can dream!!), and my personal favorite, any and all birds (admitting this is NOT a cry for help).
The more you look, really look, the more there is to be seen. And suddenly, the wonder outweighs the woes and winter does not seem so bad after all.
Need help getting started?
For a local hit: Head to Damn Fine Coffee then walk to Humboldt Park for bird watching. Go first thing in the morning or late afternoon to get the best results.
For a short drive & slightly more rugged adventure: Take Palos Trail System Orange single track and breakfast after at Willow Springs Family Restaurant to refuel.