Yesterday, at the Metro Training, we had the opportunity to tour the Eloise Butler Wildflower Garden in Minneapolis. Our very knowledgeable guide walked us through the bog, trillium woodland, fern glen, hemlock site, and then proudly, took us around their prairie.
When I hear the word "prairie," I envision endless tracts of waving grasses interrupted with patches of colorful forbs. Prairie is where the buffalo roam, where prairie dogs scamper about, where trees don't exist.
What struck me about the EB prairie was its...messy-ness. Everywhere I looked, there were not only grasses and forbs, but shrubs and vines. Rather than a prairie, I guess I'd call what we saw a meadow - that transitional zone bordering woodlands where trees give way to grasses, but conditions favor all the other kinds of plants, too. Like vines and shrubs. It was lovely, and maybe I'm just being picky, but it wasn't prairie the way I see prairie.
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