his photo was taken for a practical purpose. "I rented a plane and snapped the pictures when the work on these ninety acres was half done," said biologist and land manager Brad Semel. "By studying the photos, I could answer questions that helped me finish the project right."

Ducks, cranes, mink, and orchids lived in a broad marsh here until 1886 when an enterprising farmer installed more than 10 miles of drainage tile by hand. Then for decades this land was farm fields. Millions of acres throughout the midwest were drained similarly, and today we eat the good food produced on that fine land. But in 1972 the state acquired Turner Lake (a bit of which is visible at top right) and surrounding lands for conservation, and the farming ended. There was so little left for nature, that everyone applauded when the plows were pulled off and the land was let go back.

Soon aggressive reed canary grass covered much of the abandoned fields, and European buckthorn began to crowd out even the reed canary grass. Few species of plants or animals that had previously lived here for thousands of years were returning. The invisible drainage tile kept the land dry.

Biologist Semel started by girdling isolated buckthorns, the skeletons of which can be seen near the denser grove just below Turner Lake. But he knew that the major challenge was to restore the water. He found the money through the US Fish and Wildlife Service and the US Army Corps of Engineers. Much of it was from a settlement with a company accused of illegally filling a wetland near Grayslake ­ with a garbage dump.

Semel supervised heavy equipment operators who worked from 5 a.m. to 7 p.m. five days a week for a month. They unearthed and broke 10.6 miles of drainage tile weighing an estimated 345 tons. That was the summer of 1998.

In the spring of 1999 Semel burned and then systematically herbicided the reed canary grass on these 90 acres.

Like the wide-track backhoe, the burning and massive herbiciding would seem extreme to some. But Semel was determined to restore natural biodiversity. That meant tough decisions and hard work.

That summer saw mostly native weeds such as stinging nettle, willow herb, and burnweed. But here and there such fine wetland species as grass-of-parnassus, great blue lobelia, cardinal flower, and grass-pink orchid showed that a quality plant community was on the way. Springs began to flow again, and the marsh sponged up water that until recently had added to flooding on the Fox River.

Two pairs of sandhill cranes nested in 1999. That fall, the high count for wood ducks was 390, here where none had swum for decades. The green-winged teal count peaked at 180. When Semel showed off the site to a high official from Springfield, they heard a squeaking chatter in the herbage. They stood quietly, and soon a pair of feisty mink cavorted within a yard of their boots. Nature is returning here. And it's feeling pretty good about itself.

Photo and work by Brad Semel. Words by Stephen Packard.

For more about Brad Semel and wetland restoration, see "Meet Your Neighbors: Brad Semel," and a section referring to his work in "Birds and the Habitat."

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