Clumps of crescent-shaped seed pods embellished a dried plant that stood a few feet tall. The plant lined an open trail and called for a closer examination. A few of the seed pods were cracked open, revealing tiny red seeds tucked inside the chocolate-brown shells. Some pods were completely open and empty, their seeds having fallen somewhere below.
I later learned from the plant identification service hosted by the Chicago Botanic Garden that this is Desmanthus illinoensis, or the Illinois bundleflower. When in bloom, the flowers look like tiny white fireworks, and the leaves are neatly fernlike. Despite its name, this wildflower does not only reside in Illinois. This particular specimen was found in a preserve in Indiana. It is known to live in midwestern and southern prairies, where it can enjoy full sun.
When drawing the plant’s outline, I could not help but admire how expertly engineered it was by evolution. The layered seed pods reminded me of pea pods, which makes sense. This wildflower is in the Pea family.
Using colored pencils, I layered rusty oranges for warmth and pale blues over rich browns for sheens. Thin rigid stems called for some grays and beiges. I chose to work on paper with a warm tone, an homage to the winter landscape in which this plant was found, where more orangey and browned plants deprived of chlorophyll populate the stretch of preserved prairie bordered by a river and a major highway.