A selection of savvy observations on urban ecology from one of the Midwest's foremost authorities on the subject, Hunting for Frogs on Elston collects the best of naturalist Jerry Sullivan's weekly Field & Street columns, originally published in the Chicago Reader . Engaging, opinionated, inspiring, and occasionally irreverent, Hunting for Frogs on Elston pays tribute to Chicago's natural history while celebrating one of its greatest champions.
Published in association with the Chicago Wilderness coalition, Hunting for Frogs on Elston comprehensively chronicles Chicagoland's unique urban ecology, from its indigenous prairie and oft-delayed seasons to its urban coyotes and passenger pigeons. In witty, informed prose, Sullivan evokes his adventures netting dog-faced butterflies, hunting rattlesnakes, and watching fireflies mate. Inspired by regional flora and fauna, Sullivan ventures throughout the metropolis and its environs in search of sludge worms, gyrfalcons, and wild onions. In reporting his findings to otherwise oblivious urbanites, Sullivan endeavors to make "alienated, atomized, postmodern people feel at home, connected to something beyond ourselves."
In the sprawling Chicagoland region, where an urban ecosystem teeming with remarkable life evolves between skyscrapers and train tracks, no writer chronicled the delicate balance of nature and industry more vividly than Jerry Sullivan. An homage to the urban ecology Sullivan loved so dearly, Hunting for Frogs on Elston is his fitting legacy as well as a lasting gift to the urban naturalist in us all.
What a great collection! Unfortunately, Jerry Sullivan has passed before my time and interest directed my readings his way. But I do enjoy reading the Chicago Reader and something told me I would have enjoyed a column called "Field and Street," focusing on urban ecology and the pockets of wildlife that are scattered around Chicagoland.
Reading his columns, I've grown to understand that these aren't really 'pockets of wildlife.' Pioneers and policy setters actually did a great job at preserving some of Illinois' natural areas (that is comparatively speaking, of course). Sullivan's columns motivated me to check out some urban wildlife hikes I've always wanted to do (Somme Woods in Northbrook, kayaking the North Branch, Miami Woods, Bunker Hill Prairie Preserve near Devon and Caldwell, etc). In the spring I hope to visit each one and spot some of the wildlife I read about in the book, now that I know what to look for.
On top of an interesting read, Sullivan writes really colorfully for field reporting, and has a grasp on Chicagoland that most of us can relate to. I thought it was funny when he wrote about killing a wasps nest on his deck, he opted not to because that was "the suburban thing to do... Suburbanites are much more into poisons than we are, and their obsession with guarding the ethnic purity of their lawns leaves them with an impoverished selection of arthropods. Suburbanites are people who saturate their property with a mixture of Agent Orange and dieldrin and then say things like, 'I couldn't live in the city, I like nature too much."
I heartily enjoyed this book about nature in and around Chicago, which I read for my nature and science book group, despite the myriad typos. (It's possible I've never read a book with so many, and it's almost certain I've never read a professionally published book with so many. I once worked for this publisher, University of Chicago Press, so that's embarrassing.) And yet I'd read it again. It was a collection of columns that appeared in The Reader, Chicago's alt weekly, a few decades ago, and I admit I appreciated the shortness of the pieces, each about four pages. Jerry Sullivan and his sense of humor were awfully likable. He comes across as a truly good guy who knew a whole lot about nature, although he pokes fun at himself and his limitations throughout. (He also pokes fun at suburbanites, those who go gaga for the Northwest, and people who need 10,000-foot rocks in their scenery.) The book reminded me (as all nature writing does) of how little I know and see of what's going on around me in nature. Some things have changed since he wrote those columns, for worse (he mentions barely being able to look up while outside in September and not see a monarch butterfly) and for better (much nature restoration, especially of prairies and savannas, has been done in our area in the last few decades). Especially if you are a nature lover in or around Chicago--even if you're a suburbanite--or if you are interested in prairies and savannas or the good folks who work so hard to restore these areas, you will probably want to read this book.
This kind of discovery is the reason that I own a couple roomfuls of books. I bought"Hunting for Frogs on Elston" several years ago outside a discussion by a speaker at the Chicago Humanities Festival. It was, and is, a posthumous collection of essays by Sullivan that were originally published in the Chicago Reader about the the natural environment of Chicagoland. I pretty much forgot about the book for about a decade, then picked it up a couple of weeks ago. Sullivan passed away in 2000. The book was published in 2004. Most of the essays date from the 1980's and 90's. It is a missive from the recent past about the state of our local savannas and prairies. Dozens of bathroom-break sized essays talking about how the world around us used to be, and what it is becoming. An obscure tome gathering dust in my bookshelf, and an unexpected and serendipitous pleasure.
A collection of stories from Jerry Sullivan, a former writer for the Chicago Reader. They are tales of Sullivan's encounters with "urban ecology", or finding nature in unexpected pockets of the city & suburbs.