Date: 11/20/25 4:45 am From: Joseph Neal <0000078cbd583d7c-dmarc-request...> Subject: Old Walt Whitman would know (Maysville November 19 2025)
(Birds with photographs, submitted to eBird: https://ebird.org/checklist/S285278940).
In western Benton County, State 72 runs from Gravette to Maysville through what old timers knew as Beatie Prairie. No special highway signs to that effect. Ornithological and botanical signs aplenty.
In high summer, patches of Big Bluestem Grass, extravagant flowering of tall purple Blazing Stars, whole rights-of-way covered with Compass Plant. By late summer, Sawtooth Sunflowers 8 feet in a clear blue sky. That is, fencerows full of prairie botanical history that once ruled a whole country.
I’ve been visiting old Beatie since late 1970s. Sometimes on these trips I hear booming of Greater Prairie-Chickens, though of course it’s my busy imagination. My way through that sometimes seemingly impossible barrier, time.
Back in 1980s I met Maysville native late Maurice Loux who remembered those chickens from his youth in early 1900s. Prairie-chicken booming grounds may today be Simmons chicken houses and pastures, but that doesn’t erase legacy. Savannah Sparrows and a Loggerhead Shrike belong to my trip today. They too are legacy.
Pritchard Road part of former Beatie Prairie has little traffic and legacy aplenty. Most of it is grassland. The road passes through an old – ancient – Post Oak barren but no urban opportunities. Decidedly out of step with juggernaut Northwest Arkansas City.
Call it “blessing in disguise.” Call it what Tufted Titmice and brilliant red Fox Squirrels call it.
Very little traffic passes through a Post Oak barren. Tiny acorns fall in the road. Big birds like Red-headed Woodpeckers and Blue Jays pick up small acorns and fly off. Simmons poultry trucks and the postal carrier – and yes, the occasional birder – crush whatever acorns remain. Resulting acorn meat is a blessing for Carolina Chickadees and Dark-eyed Juncos.
Pastures and hayfields still have prairie mounds a little west of Pritchard Hill, along Leonard Ranch Road. Eastern Meadowlarks were singing in today’s warm sunshine. So were whole choruses of White-crowned Sparrows. More legacy.
I sing the song of Tallgrass Prairie. Bison and prairie-chickens, even if unseen. Eastern Meadowlarks and prairie grass. Loggerhead Shrikes and Savannah Sparrows flocks. Big Bluestem and Indian Grass. Where Turkey Vultures soar. Where diamond sunlights dance in white fluffy-encased seeds of bluestem grass. I sing the Indian Grass.
Old Walt Whitman would know what I mean about tall grass. Modern prairie acolytes, too.
