For 62 years - Dedicated to Protecting, Preserving and Promoting
The interests of The Eloise Butler Wildflower Garden and Bird Sanctuary
The Friends are hosting a party for the benefit of the Eloise Butler Wildflower Garden. Tour this historic house and garden on Lake of the Isles on June 25th 2015, 5 to 8:30 PM. Details Here.
A brief review of the spring season of 2005, 1990, 1965, 1940 and 1915, details . . .
How bad or good can April weather be at the Garden? Read about it. .
The Garden is host to over 600 native plant species with habitat varying from marsh to woodland to prairie and Oak savanna. For photos, species listings, plant information - read more. .
A photo selection of what activities go on in the Garden in early Spring after April 1st.
Former Curator Martha Crone describes the weeks of Early spring at Eloise Butler Wildflower Garden and Bird Sanctuary.
Wild Plum is the common but beautiful woodland shrub of Minnesota Springtime. Eloise Butler wrote "From a distance thickets of the thorny, still leafless, Wild Plum now seem covered with snowflakes, the illusion being due to myriads of white blossoms. We find the resultant red and yellow, somewhat puckery fruit not unpalatable, if the birds do not forestall us in harvesting it." More plant info. .
“Do not think, then, that the fruits of New England are mean and insignificant while those of some foreign land are noble and memorable. Our own, whatever they may be, are far more important to us than any others can be. They educate us and fit us to live here in New England. Better for us is the wild strawberry than the pine-apple than the orange, the chestnut and pignut than the cocoa-nut and almond, and not on account of their flavor merely, but the part they play in our education." Henry Thoreau, from Wild Fruits.
The Spring reveals herself in secret only,
Thro’ hidden signs we guess her mystic power,
The fields are bare, the woodlands wild and lonely,
But lo! beneath the earth she hides the flower.
The willows quicken at the river’s brim,
The eager alder breaks her tawny buds,
The upland hills are wrapt in hazes dim,
And sweet, impulsive life has stirred the woods.