After visiting Salt Lick Point Land & Water Preserve a few weeks ago, the WGNSS Botany Group continued its exploration of the Mississippi River bluffs in southern Illinois by visiting Fults Hill Prairie, a 532-acre preserve 13 miles south of Salt Lick Point. In addition to upland forests and glades, Fults Hill Prairie features the largest complex of high-quality loess hill prairie still existing in the state. This diversity of habitats correlates with a rich diversity of plants, which at this time of year is exemplified by the classic fall genera Solidago (goldenrods) and Symphyotrichum (true asters). While late October is a bit past peak bloom and the persistent precipitation that only began a few days earlier after an extraordinarily dry previous three months further dampened expectations, a decent-sized group of intrepid explorers nevertheless defied the forecast, steep wooden stairway, and slippery final ascent (along with the subsequent descent) to explore the area’s diversity and admire its bluff-top views.

Some of the same goldenrods and asters that the group saw a few weeks ago at Salt Lick Point were again seen during the initial ascent. Among the more conservative of these were Solidago buckleyi (Buckley’s goldenrod), Solidago drummondii (cliff goldenrod), and Symphyotrichum anomalum (many-rayed aster). Less conservative (i.e., more commonly encountered) counterparts also were seen such as Solidago ulmifolia (elm-leaved goldenrod) and Symphyotrichum patens (spreading aster). In all cases, the plants exhibited precious few pitiful flowers due to the combination of late season and the drought-compromised display, but this didn’t prevent the group from practicing their identification skills based on non-floral characters.
Ascending the steep rocky slopes, the canopy was dominated by Quercus muhlenbergii (chinquapin oak)—an indicator of the thin, rocky soils underfoot. As the group continued to ascend, Quercus alba (white oak) also began to appear and eventually replaced Q. muhlenbergii as the dominant oak, signaling the presence of deeper deposits of the wind-blown loess soils that characterize the hilltops. Further up, on the south- and west-facing slopes at the top, such soils are unable to hold sufficient moisture to support the growth of trees. As a result, despite the presence of deep soils, the forest gives way to the first of two large hilltop prairie remnants featured in the preserve. A lone, Quercus stellata (post oak) stood sentry atop the prairie, adding to the diversity of oaks seen and framing a gorgeous view from the prairie across the valley below.

Entering the woodlands along a remnant 2-track belying the past presence of a farm, the group encountered a third species of blue-flowered aster whose cordate, scabrous leaves, pubescent stems, and distinctly winged leaf petioles identified it as Symphyotrichum drummondii (Drummond’s aster). This and another more commonly encountered aster, Symphyotrichum lateriflorum (calico aster), were found scattered along the sides of the 2-track until the group began its descent down into the second large loess prairie remnant.


Also along the 2-track, but only in one small area, the group observed Sceptridium dissectum (cut-leaf grape fern, formerly Botrychium dissectum) in “flower” with mature fertile fronds. The finely divided leaves identified the plants as var. dissectum, which is a bit less common than var. obliquum.

The diversity of oaks seen increased as the group traversed the forests along the 2-track, with Quercus velutina (black oak) becoming co-dominant with Q. alba. Numerous freshly-fallen twigs littered the 2-track due to the recent rains, and the shapes of some of the leaves seemed to suggest they might be from the more southerly Quercus falcata (southern red oak); however, careful examination of their lobes along with newly-formed buds and fully-developed acorns confirmed them, nevertheless, to be Q. velutina.



Still, the diversity observed oaks increased to five species when we began encountering Quercus shumardii (Shumard’s oak), including one particularly grand old tree whose spreading main branches and broadly-formed crown whispered stories about the more open conditions that must have occurred around it during its youth.

Nearby, a rusty farm implement, actively being engulfed by trees that sprouted after the last time it saw any movement, further attested to the area’s long-forgotten days as a farm.

The diversity of goldenrods seen also continued to tick upwards along the 2-track as we encountered what was either Solidago atltissima (tall goldenrod) or Solidago canadensis (Canadian goldenrod). These two species are difficult to distinguish, especially when the foliage is wet since leaf pubescence is a key distinguishing characteristic, but the upland habitat initially suggested the latter since S. altissima prefers more mesic habitats. A number of other more mesic-preferring plant species were also noticed in the area, however, perhaps a result of the underlying deep loess soils, so a final determination was not made. It was upon the final approach towards and down onto the second main loess prairie remnant, however, that the diversity of goldenrods and asters really began to skyrocket. Near the edge of the prairie but still in the forest, we saw Symphyotrichum oolentangiense (pronounced oh-OH-len-tang-ee-IN-say) (azure aster)—easily identifiable by its blue flowers and long, narrow, arrowhead-shaped lower leaves that are rough and sandpapery to the touch. At the prairie edge Symphyotrichum turbinellum (prairie aster), identifiable by its many-branched growth habit, elliptic leaves with tapered bases, and long vase-shaped involucres, began to appear. Symphyotrichum sericea (silky aster) further padded the diversity totals, a small patch of plants with their distinctive silvery leaves occupying the farthest (and possibly driest) extent of the loess prairie ridge before it began dropping precipitously towards the towering limestone blufftop.

The most dazzling addition to the diversity, however, was Solidago rigidiuscula (stiff-leaved showy goldenrod). Until recently considered to be a variety of Solidago speciosa (showy goldenrod), the large showy inflorescences of this species are every bit as attractive as the latter, but the plants feature narrower leaves, and while the flowers had largely faded by this late date, the lower foliage turning brilliant red provided stunning contrast with the still-green upper leaves and more muted colors of the surrounding vegetation.

The group then began its long, slow, careful descent off the prairie and through the lower woodlands back to the parking lot. Separating the two, however, is a limestone glade that features a slightly different flora of prairie-associated species than the hilltop prairie due to its thin, rocky versus deep loess soils, and it was in these glades where the group saw the day’s ninth and final species of aster—Symphyotrichum oblongifolium (aromatic aster), distinctive by its branched growth with numerous small leaves amongst normal-sized leaves (and if there is still any doubt, a quick crush-and-smell of the latter reveals its highly aromatic nature). A sixth and final goldenrod also was seen on the rocky slopes just below the glade—Solidago radula (rough goldenrod), its short, clump-like stature and densely numerous, heavily scabrous, serrate leaves confirming its identity.
As the lone entomologist in the group, I had been keeping my eye out for any insect activity—particularly Oncideres cingulata (twig girdler), a longhorned beetle (family Cerambycidae) that appears only during fall and “girdles” twigs of hickory and certain other trees before laying eggs in them. Numerous such twigs were seen, and I picked up several in hopes of finding females still upon them—unfortunately, to no avail. In fact, but a single insect was seen all day, and even it was not until I had returned to the parking lot—a nymph of the distinctively green Zelus luridus (pale green assassin bug).

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2025
Wow! One single insect! Is this an example of the reported insect apocalypse — or was it just the weather?
Just the weather—a drizzly, overcast day at a time when most insects have already begun bedding down for the winter.