I was alone in the Orland Grassland last Sunday.
The temperature hovered near freezing and the paved trails were icy and the grass trails were soaked in grey ice.
I thought I’d explore it because I hadn’t been there. Apparently, the Orland Grasslands or prairie is a loving restoration of old farmland. While walking in the grass, which was at least shoulder high, it was not too hard to imagine that most of Illinois once looked this way.
I wandered around and read a few of the signs and spotted a few lonely picnic tables nestled in the tall grass, and then the ice and slush and cold got the best of me, and I retraced my steps to the car. I promised to go back in the summer.