10/08/2026
I landed in Chicago at 11:30 a.m., picked up my rental car, and was downstate by 4:00.
I took the back road to the prairie, pushed through the brambles and brush, and walked into an incredible scene: Indian grass everywhere, plus a little bluestem that had spread all the way from the western edge of the property to the southeastern corner. I gathered a few seeds and took some photos.
The next morning I couldn’t get through the brush, so I came in through another entrance and ended up on an adjacent seven-acre field. This was 300 yards across the timber from the original ten-acre sight planted in 1972. That seven-acre field had always been a conservation corp: fescue and w**ds. But sure enough, I spotted something that looked like a w**d, tall and beautiful. It was Indian grass!!! We never planted that field.
As I walked deeper into the field, surrounded by white oak and Illinois timber, I found more and more of these standalone plants. They’re about 9 feet tall now, and I ended up walking the whole project.
There it was: a brand-new, solid colony of Indian grass. What an incredible experience!
Back in 1972, Jim Clinebell, Richard Clinebell, and John Torbert went out there with a borrowed tractor and 300 pounds of grass seed, collected by my original guitar player, Ronnie Arganbright, and a couple of other hooligans (including me). They planted it all.
Now here we are, late September 2026, Indian summer, and the Indian grass has found its own way. Amazing. It reminded me never to lose faith in my higher power. Most importantly, the power of the native prairie grass restoration movement.
If you look real close, you can see a monarch butterfly on the first photo!
