Author: <span>Robert Narem</span>

Speculations on Natural History

Fun in the Cold

When I was planning how to accomplish the best restoration possible on the Huggett land, a 20 acre parcel that was seeded last fall, I tried to incorporate the lessons that I had learned on past attempts. The base seeding was done with a Truax drill, a much improved choice over the John Deere no-till drill that had been used on the 100 acre seeding in 2018. I was able to be on site during the seeding, giving me some confidence that a good job was done. I used a higher seeding rate to hopefully achieve full cover in a shorter time. I obsessively patrolled for Canada thistle , hoping to keep it from getting a foothold, trying to eliminate individual plants. All this was at best only partly successful because of a hot, dry summer before our deluge began in mid-August. So, finally, a positive lesson I had learned was that until you have established plants, with the grasses beginning to create a sod, it is very worthwhile to add additional seed. Thus, a fall topdressing of the seed that I gathered this past year would be a valuable exercise. And so that was what I was doing last week as a cold front blew through.

Does this look like the ideal seedbed? Let’s hope so.

It wasn’t horrible out there. It was right at 30 degrees, snowing lightly and the wind was bearable, not the howling banshee that it often is in early December. I had been out with a friend a couple weeks earlier and we had covered the whole site spreading seed by hand. Some of the seed I wanted to spread was unavailable, however, being stored at another friend’s, and I wanted to spread that as well. The restoration site is not accessible if we get much snow, being half a mile down a dirt trail from the nearest maintained road, and while it would have been fine to save some seed to spread next spring, I prefer to let nature do the work through the winter overcoming seed dormancy. Thus, last week, I went to get the rest of my seed, and when I finished the three hours of hand spreading I was cold, tired, hungry and very satisfied with my day. How much fun can an old guy have without being around grandkids? This pretty well maxes it out for me.

Tangentially, I found that one interesting thing was how easy it was to identify where soils changed from xeric to mesic. The light color on all the hills is from yellow foxtail residue. As you come to lower ground where moisture relations are kinder to plants and soil that has eroded from the hills accumulates, it becomes dark, which is the residue of tall waterhemp, both species being common weeds. Here’s another look at what I saw when I was out throwing seed around.

It was very easy to decide where to spread the batches of seed that I mixed up

Another related tangent: a couple days ago I drove to South Dakota State University campus in Brookings to visit Professor Lora Perkins. She has developed a project growing many species of native wildflowers from seed, learning the best methods of handling and propagation. This is the second time I have contributed material to her project and I brought down about 10 containers of seed from different forb species, several of which would be new to her efforts. Much to my delight she traded me back two envelopes of seed derived from material I had originally contributed, as well as another species that I occasionally find in my prairies that I have been unable to gather, but can now spread next spring. As I hope to begin my own project of growing wildflower seed Lora is an extremely valuable source of information for me, as well as great fun to visit. Some of seed I gathered and that Lora grew has even become integrated into landscaping at SDSU by a young horticulturist I happen to know, Tanner, who was friends with my daughter when she was in graduate school at SDSU. South Dakota society is a small and cozy place and these sorts of connections are common, but still a source of fun and satisfaction. Next spring Lora said she will give my wife and me a tour of her plots and show us what is growing in her greenhouse, and maybe we will look up Tanner. and see where our contribution to beautifying the campus has been planted. It’s a good life if you don’t weaken, with rewards around every corner.

Speculations on Natural History

Species List for 100 Acre Restoration

First, as I have often attested, the 100 acres is far from a homogeneous prairie restoration. There are areas of various floristic complexity through the field, most notably there are 25 acres on the east side which is almost a pure stand of grass, devoid of wildflowers. This area was nearly bereft of seed from the original 2018 planting, and grew up to a solid stand of Canada thistle. I then topdressed it in 2019 with a mixture of grasses. Subsequently, this area was sprayed with herbicide in fall of 2019 and 2020 to kill the thistles. Though some thistles have begun to grow back, I am beginning to spread some forb seed to establish a wildflower presence. Thus this list mostly concerns the other 70-75 acres, particularly 40-50 acres of rolling gravelly hills on the west side which adjoins the native pasture where Dakota skipper butterflies have been found. After the common name I give the scientific name, as common names vary. The species are grouped by an exceedingly subjective measurement of relative abundance. Most of the species that I list as abundant are primarily derived from purchased seed, though often supplemented by gathered seed, with some notable exceptions I will point out. At the end of the list of species that I have found in the restoration is a second list of species that were planted that I have not yet Identified, but that I still expect to find. Though there about 45 species that I planted and have not yet found, the second list only includes 12 species, as many of the 45 species were spread in such low quantities that it is unrealistic to expect that I will ever see them. With all the disclaimers and qualifiers out of the way, here goes:

Species which are very common, most of which were in the original mix of purchased seed which was seeded by the Conservation District. Almost anywhere on the better 70 acres of the restoration you will find all these within 100′ or so:

1.Yarrow, Achillea millifolium

2.Canada milkvetch, Astragalus canadensis

3. Cudleaf sagewort, Artemisia ludoviciana

4. Fringed sagewort, A. frigida

5. Big bluestem, Andropogon gerardii

6. Sideoats grama, Bouteloua curtipendula

7. Blue grama, B. gracilis

8. Downy painted cup, Castilleja sessiflora (almost entirely from a handful of very tiny gathered seed)

9. Tall cinquefoil, Drymocallis arguta (same note as above, except it was from a larger quantity)

10. Canada wildrye, Elymus canadensis

11. Black samson, Echinacea angustifolia (I have obsessively, and perhaps unsustainably, gathered this. It was the one wildflower that all sources agreed upon as an important source of nectar for the Dakota skipper butterfly, it is common on my prairies, it is easy to gather as the seeds stay in the heads for many weeks and it is an iconic prairie plant to me.)

12. Blanketflower, Gaillardia aristata (Though I spread some that I gathered, most is from seed purchased which was grown in Colorado. This has meant that the population is actually dropping because the genotype lacks the proper components for cold hardiness.)

13. Maximillian sunflower, Helianthus maximilliani

14. Prairie junegrass, Koeleria macrantha

15, Wild bergamot/Horsemint, Monarda fistulosa

16. Shell leaf/Showy penstemon, Penstemon grandiflorus

17. Western wheatgrass, Pascopyrum smithii

18. Yellow coneflower, Ratibida columnifera

19. Gray headed coneflower, Ratibida pinnata

20. Black eyed susan, Rudbeckia hirta

21. Missouri goldenrod, Solidago missouriensis (though I spread some seed of this, both gathered and purchased, I think most of this blew in and seeded itself down on its own)

22. Little bluestem, Schizachyrium scoparium (Andropogon was so much easier to spell before they changed the genus. That’s a very nerdy botanist’s lament)

23. Indiangrass, Sorghastrum nutans

24. Golden alexander, Zizia aurea

25. Common milkweed, Asclepias syriaca

26. Purple prairie clover, Dalea purpurea

27. Slender wheatgrass, Elymus trachycaulus

28. False sunflower, Heliopsis helianthoides

29. Green needlegrass, Nassella viridula

30. Stiff goldenrod, Oligoneuron rigida

31. Slender penstemon, Penstemon gracilis (yet another small-seeded species where a small amount of gathered seed thoroughly colonized the restoration)

32. Foxglove penstemon, Penstemon digitalis (This species was neither gathered nor purchased but came along as a mistake or a contaminant of the purchased seed mix; a happy accident.)

33. Heath aster, Symphyotricum ericoides (Again, it would be much simpler if the generic name was still Aster.)

34. Switchgrass, Panicum virgatum

35. Silky aster, Symphyotricum sericeum

36. Canada goldenrod, Solidago canadensis, This should really go in the following group because it is only found in the mesic to wet mesic areas on perhaps 10-15% of the restoration.

37. Gray goldenrod, Solidago nemoralis

38. Hoary vervain, Verbena stricta

The following group of species are more widely scattered than the first group. They may be common in areas and absent in others, or just widely dispersed. They all have populations which should allow easy cross pollination, and if they are competitive they might be common in the future. Many of these are species primarily or exclusively from gathered seed.

39. Leadplant, Amorpha canescens

40. Groundplum milkvetch, Astragalus crassicarpus

41. Pasqueflower, Anemone patens

42. Thimbleflower, A. cylindrica

43. Prairie onion Allium stellatum

44. Rose milkweed, Asclepias incarnata

45. False boneset, Brickellia eupatoroides

46. Fox sedge, Carex vulpinoides

47. Unknown wetland sedge, Carex sp.

48. White prairie clover, Dalea candida

49. Showy tick trefoil, Desmodium canadense

50. Northern bedstraw, Galium boreale (I am seeing much less of this during the summer of 2022. Withholding judgement for now.)

51. Prairie smoke, Geum triflorum (Opposite comment to above. These arbitrary classifications are based upon 2021 observations, and I have seen far more this year. Almost should lift it a category.)

52. Stiff sunflower, Helianthus pauciflorus (Ditto to above comment. Lots more pauciflorus in 2022, plus the rhizome effect.)

53. Porcupine grass, Stipa spartea (This was all from gathered seed, and as it is a terrible pain in the ass to spread I am very satisfied that we got a decent catch.)

54. Hairy goldaster, Heterotheca villosa

55. Alumroot, Heuchera richardsonii Quite a few to begin, but decreasing, probably because it was from ill-adapted seed. Lots in adjoining prairies, so I will try to increase.

56. Dudley’s rush, Juncus dudleyi

57. Unknown rush, Juncus sp.

58. Prairie lettuce, Lactuca biennis

59. Great blue lobelia, Lobelia siphilicata

60. Dotted gayfeather, Liatris punctata

61. Rough gayfeather, L. aspera

62. False gromwell, Omosmodium molle

63. Evening primrose, Oenothera biennis (This was everywhere the first two years, but has found a harder time reseeding itself as the sod forms.

64. White penstemon, Penstemon albidus (Another species that is increasing, probably seeding itself in. Should probably go into the first group.)

65. Prairie ragwort, Packera plattensis

66. Prairie rose, Rosa arkansana

67. New England aster, Symphyotricum novae-angliae

68. Smooth blue aster, S. laeve

69. Sky blue aster, S. oolentangiense

70. Aromatic aster, S. oblongifolium

71. Blue vervain, Verbena hastata

72. Prairie violet, Viola pedatifida

73. Heart leafed golden alexander, Zizia aptera

74. Pennsylvania cinquefoil, Potentilla pennsylvanica (This was a forb I didn’t expect to see, as I gathered very little, but it has been surprisingly successful.)

75. Blue eyed grass, Sisyrinchium campestre

The next group on the list are species of which I saw only a few plants this year, less than 10. I certainly don’t claim to be friends with every plant on the entire 100 acres, but I spend a lot of time out there, so I am confident that they are uncommon. While I hope (and expect) that there are more individuals of these species, it is a source of satisfaction whenever I find a new one.

76. Slender milkvetch, Astragalus flexuosus (One of the big successes of 2022. May need to pop this up a notch.)

77. Canada anemone, Anemone canadensis (I am surprised that I haven’t seen more of these as a fair amount of gathered seed was spread, though it is always possible that most of my gathered seed had insect predation)

78. Nodding onion, Allium cernuum

79. Field pussytoes, Antennaria neglecta

80. Whorled milkweed, Asclepias verticillata

81. Anise hyssop, Agastache foeniculum, (I saw this the last couple years, but have found none this year. This might have been lost.) Update: Saw several blooming late summer 2022

82. Yellow sundrops, Calylophus serrulatus

83. Kalm’s brome, Bromus kalmii

84. Chickweed, Cerastium arvense

85. Flat topped aster, Doellingeria umbellata

86. Scarlet gaura, Gaura coccinea

87. Downy gentian, Gentiana puberulenta (This was another great surprise. Downy gentian doesn’t make good seed until October, and I have invariably gathered it after cold weather, making me uncertain about seed viability. I was very happy when my friend Ben found two blooming this fall, and I have hopes to see more next year.)

88. Sawtooth sunflower, Helianthus grosserserratus (2022 update: quite a few blooming along drainageways, perhaps 20 or 30)

89. Fringed puccoon, Lithospermum incisum (This was fun to find because I put no seed out on the restoration of this, but there are plenty of plants on the prairie bordering the restoration.)

90. Grooved yellow flax, Linum sulcatum (This is an annual that can be very common or absent in my nearby native prairies. Two years ago I saw quite a few in the restoration, but because of a hot, dry June last year I saw none in my native prairies and only one or two in the restoration.)

91. Prairie turnip, Pediomelum esculenta (This, to me, is the most evocative, iconic plant of my nearby prairies, and I was ecstatic when I found two this summer. I continue to carefully plant some, and hope to see more in the future.)

92. Meadow rue, Thalictrum dasycarpum (This is another increasing species, I saw several colonies building along the runs.)

93. Western spiderwort, Tradescantia occidentalis

94. American vetch, Vicia americana

95. Ironweed, Vernonia fasciculata

96. Mountain mint, Pycnanthemum virginianum, (This is another of the species which is finding its place in the restoration. This will probably be moved to the category above.)

97. Standing milkvetch, Astragalus adsurgens

98. Early figwort, Scrophularia lanceolata

99. Prairie larkspur, Delphinium virescens

100. Needle and thread, Stipa comata

101. Flodmans thistle, Cirsium flodmanii

These are a few species I saw the first year of the restoration, but not since, likely because the seed source population wasn’t as cold tolerant as was needed.

102. Butterfly weed, Asclepias tuberosus

103. Partridge pea, Chaemecrista fasciculata

104. Prairie coreopsis, Coreopsis palmata

105. Illinois bundleflower, Desmamnthus illinoencis

106. Wild mint, Mentha arvensis

So that’s the list as well as my memory and poor botanical skill allows. But I will add a list of species that I hope to see in the future because of : 1) The amount of seed that I spread of that plant, 2) It might be there, but I haven’t walked by when a flower or seedhead was out, 3) that I hope to see because I am still adding seed of that species, or 4) I have missed because I am blind and clueless.

  1. American sloughgrass, Beckmannia syzgachne
  2. Tall dropseed, Sporobolus heterolepis
  3. Prairie sandreed, Calamovilfa longifolia
  4. Prairie cordgrass, Spartina pectinata
  5. Plains bluegrass, Poa aristada
  6. Bluejoint, Calamagrostis canadensis
  7. American licorice, Glycyrrhiza lepidota
  8. Joe Pye weed, Eutrochium purpureum
  9. Wood betony, Pedicularis canadensis
  10. Rattlesnake root, Prenanthes alba
  11. Textile onion, Allium textile
  12. Nutalls violet, Viola nutallii
  13. Wood betony. Pedicularis canidensis So that’s it for now. Might there be more in the future? Certainly, but I will also likely lose some on the less common species to the vagaries of climate and the inevitable difficulties of reproduction. However, I may be counter-intuitively aided by the terrible soil of much of the site. A common complaint of practitioners of prairie restoration is the loss of forbs as they are out-competed by grasses. This is less likely on the xeric half of my project which carries the most diversity because the gravelly soils will not allow the grasses to create a thick sod and there is likely to always be some room for new seedlings. This will be aided by the planned disturbances of fire and grazing. And if I am fortunate I will get to reevaluate for many years. I will likely update this list at the end of the 2022 field season.

Postscript:

While I have already added several species earlier in 2022, here are recent additions from late July through early September:

  1. Virginia wildrye, Elymus virginicus, A grass more common in moist woodlands, it is establishing along the drainageways
  2. Northern plains blazing star, or prairie blazing star, Liatris ligustylis, This is very closely related to Liatris aspera, listed above, and may even hybridize with it, but it appears I have a few of both.
  3. Prairie blazing star, Liatris pycnostachya
  4. Harebell, Campanula rotundifolia
  5. Yellow avens, Geum aleppicum
  6. Panicled aster, Symphyotricum lanceolatum
  7. Prairie dropseed, Sporobolus heterolepis
  8. Prairie cordgrass, Spartina pectinata
  9. Prairie sandreed, Calamovilfa longifolia
  10. Bottle gentian, Gentiana andrewsii
  11. Joe Pye weed, Eutrochium maculatum
  12. Unknown white flowered aster, Symphyotrichum sp.
  13. Green milkweed, Asclepias viridiflora (from spring transplants)
  14. Ball cactus, Coryphantha vivipara (again, from transplants)
  15. Slim leafed milkweed, Asclepias stenophylla (transplants)
  16. Spotted bee balm, Monarda punctata, This is a sister species to wild bergamot, Monarda fistulosa, and I thought it was just an atypical example until I saw several. I am not sure where they came from.

September 20. 2022 update: I feel that I have forgotten a couple, but this makes 122 species found on the restoration, far more than I ever imagined, and wonderfully satisfying. Additions are still possible – finding the bottle gentians was a thing of chance while investigating other issues, and I hope to add a few more species through transplanting over the next couple years. Also, notice that I got several hits from my list of species I expected could show up. So that is likely it for 2022, though I will add if needed.

March 26, 2024 update: I have edited and added comments on some of the species listed above, and below I list a few additions from last year, as well as a couple we are transplanting this spring.

  1. Culvers root (Veronicastrum virginicum) A single plant which I was shocked to see and ID.
  2. Wolfberry/Snowberry/Buckbrush (Symphoricarpus occidentalis) A small, common native shrub which found its own way in.
  3. False indigo (Amorpha fruiticosa) Ditto the previous comment.
  4. Sand sage (Artemisia campestris) A somewhat weedy biennial which seeded itself in.
  5. Curlycup gumweed (Grindelia squarrosa) Again, ditto the previous comment.
  6. Oval leaved milkweed (Asclepias ovalifolia) Transplant from Dave Ode seed.
  7. Unknown milkvetch (Astragalus sp.) Was given a mislabeled packet of old seed by my friend Dr. Arvid Boe which still needs clarification.
  8. Showy goldenrod (Solidago speciosa) See note for Canada goldenrod above.
  9. Plains Muhly (Muhlenbergia cuspidata) I found a few plants in the adjoining pasture to dig for Arvid; he grew them in his greenhouse space, and then we gave seeds to Dr. Lora Palmer to grow for seedling plugs to transplant. Anyway, I have some in the restoration now.

That’s all that I can remember for now though I am likely missing a couple. That brings the total found to 131 species, of which perhaps 8-10 aren’t there anymore and another 8-10 are there in very small numbers. Surveying is one of the many priorities I have this summer (2024) and I hope to do a total rewrite this fall or winter. I know that I have a few other species in the 20 acre Huggett restoration which I will document this summer and also list this fall.

Speculations on Natural History

The New Restoration – Progress

When I was planning for seeding a 20 acre patch of restored prairie last fall I wrote a blog post entitled “The New Restoration”, detailing what my ideas were to make this new project a wonderful prairie restoration by incorporating the lessons from earlier work. This I tried to do, and the restoration was seeded in early November of 2020, with a base mix put in by the local Conservation District with a Truax drill, and a significant amount of gathered seed spread over the top, broadcast both with a spinner spreader and by hand. Immediately after completing the seeding I had a big surgery, a laryngectomy, to which I lost my entire winter in recovery and therapy. So it was with great anticipation that I went to the field in late April, but all I saw coming up were areas of thick cheatgrass. This was a bit disappointing, but not really unexpected considering the history of the field. Cheat is crazy competitive, so I lined up the neighbor to spray Roundup to kill the cheat before any of the seeds from the restoration seeding germinated. My hopes ran high.

As the spring progressed, a very dry winter turned into a very dry spring and early summer, so I was patient until we finally had a good rain in early June. What appeared after the rain was not a carpet of prairie flowers, but a thick carpet of yellow foxtail, a weedy, annual grass. Weeds are certainly expected in any restoration, and at first this didn’t concern me very much, but as June progressed I became more worried. The foxtail was extremely thick, to the point of precluding all other growth over most of the field, and it was dry enough to wonder how any new seedling could compete with the annual grass carpet. In droughty soils which are often planted to wheat this foxtail seed bank is a common phenomena; the lack of competition in mid-late summer from a thin (because of the poor soils) maturing wheat crop almost invariably allows foxtails to proliferate and make lots of seed right before the wheat is harvested. I could have attempted to combat this by fallowing the field for a year before seeding the restoration and attempting not to allow any weeds to go to seed, thus hoping to limit the amount of weed competition the subsequent year. However, that is not an easy task, as life always seems to find a way, so I now had a decision to make. Very little of my planting had yet germinated, as I only saw a few cool season perennial grass seedlings; but new seedlings of many species are very cryptic, and I might have more out there than I thought.

I decided to trust 40 years of agronomic experience and to have another herbicide application made, this one specific to grasses, and to hope that the perennial grass seedlings that I knew I would be killing (primarily wheatgrasses and green needlegrass which had germinated in the June rain) would be replaced by plenty of brothers and sisters later. The application would spare any dicots, whether weeds or wildflowers, so this didn’t affect my plans to mow the restoration twice later in the summer. My hopes were still high, but tempered with the realization that I was killing some plants that I didn’t want to kill. And the summer sped on.

Or at least it sped on for those who enjoy warm, sunny days at the beach. If you are a farmer, or a seed hoping to germinate, the endless days of sunshine and 90 degrees were a millstone around the neck, a trial to be endured. While this was certainly not a drought of historic proportions, it was damned hot and dry. The wheat crop withered, the pasture grasses turned brown and it was looking like a bad year for my restoration to be starting. I remember going up and down the hills in early August and searching in vain for seedlings that I was responsible for seeding. While I was confident that many of the seeds would be there for next year, I still would have felt much better had I felt I was achieving some cover over the erosive hills. I was starting to regret my second herbicide application, and my hope was wavering.

Any average hides the fact that it is simply the mathematical mean of what might be wildly disparate inputs, a mean of extremes. And so it was this year. When the year ends the records will show a rainfall total for 2021 slightly above average for the 130 years that measurements have been taken. In that average year almost half the rain falls from May 1 through the end of July. This year we had less than half our average rainfall during that period, but then almost 300% of our average precipitation during August, September and October, normally drier months. Any rainy spell is often casually referred to as a “monsoon”, but the term refers to a specific phenomena of moisture flowing on winds induced by the differential heating of land and water. The rising air caused by the heating of the ground draws in cooler, moisture-laden air from over the ocean. The Indian subcontinent famously has the summer monsoon (My daughter was married in Goa, on the west coast of India, in July several years ago, and it was as if the gods were dumping buckets from the heavens. It wasn’t like the thunderstorms that I was accustomed to; it was more like a direct transfer of those buckets being lifted from the Arabian Sea to our west, and then pouring out as a warm, if overwhelming, shower to rinse away the sweat that dripped from our bodies in the incredible humidity), but the southwest United States has a monsoon as well, and sometimes the winds bring those rains as far as South Dakota. When that contribution was added to an abnormally busy traditional late summer rain regime we ended up with almost 20″ of rain in a little over three months, much more rain than we had received in the previous 12 months. What were the effects of all this water?

A small forb seedling, likely a stiff sunflower (Helianthus pauciflorus), possibly a blace eyed susan (Rudbeckia hirta).
Again, a guess, but probably a tall cinquefoil (Drymocallis arguta)
Several warm season grass seedlings, but the moss growing on a gravelly hilltop is a wonderful thing to see
Yarrow (Achillea millefolium) sharing living space with Canada thistle (Cirsium arvense), not a fun roommate to have.

What had been a wasteland was transformed into a nursery. Of course, not all the plants were desirable, as the pictures all show; the sun shines and the rain falls on saint and sinner alike; but by early October I could find at least a couple native perennial seedlings per square foot almost everywhere I went. In the meantime I had already ordered a supply of seed, primarily grasses, to blend with all my gathered forbs to “salvage” the restoration. Though I have so far been unable to get much spread I still have hopes for an opportunity. However, if I am unable to get to the field because the grass trail I use to access it is blocked with snow I will feel that there is already a fine start to the restoration. I believe in redundancy, and to waste some seed on the areas which are well stocked with young plants in order to help areas less well stocked will feel fine.

Black eyed susan (Rudbeckia hirta)
Hoary vervain (Verbena stricta) and cudleaf sage (Artemisia ludoviciana)
A group of perennial grass seedlings of uncertain species.

As always there is a bit of “cherry picking” to make sure the prettiest pictures get in the blog, but there are a lot of new seedlings that germinated during the wet spell that began in early August. Dormancies of all kinds had undoubtedly been overcome, and I just hope that there was sufficient time for those seedlings to establish crowns so they can overwinter. The main reason for seed dormancy is so that seedlings don’t start too late in the fall, but rather wait for the next spring, and it is possible that some started too late this fall. So if I am able I will broadcast another batch of seed this week and some of those will perhaps be there ready to germinate as reinforcements next spring. And once more, as I enter my 67th year, I also will await spring. As I get older and accumulate more physical ailments the waiting becomes more poignant, the anticipation sharper and the coming of new life in April sweeter. Every season is more likely than the last to be the final time I can envelop myself in the prairie and be at home. But mindfulness demands my attention to the arc of this year, to November of 2021, and so I will try to finish it on a high note with the accomplishment of spreading the additional seed. Perhaps I can even find an opportunity to wander a bit in the hills before the weather shuts me down. It will make the waiting easier to know that I didn’t waste November.

A view of the seeding which doesn’t show all the
activity one sees when close to the ground.

POSTSCRIPT: Today (November 19) a retired friend came out to help me topdress seed. We walked repeatedly up and down the field and hand spread mixtures of purchased and gathered seed across the 20 acres, each of us walking perhaps five miles trying to do a good job. Though I am sure we missed some areas, with the help of a 15 mph crosswind I think that most of the field got some additional seed. A flock of horned larks was certainly interested in the new food source, but I have very high hopes that some of that seed will evade their grasp to germinate next spring and summer and add depth to the restoration. I am very tired and sore this evening and very happy.

Speculations on Natural History

I Get By With a Little Help From My…

As I remember we were looking for ball cactus (Picture by Bruce Toay)

Not a terribly creative title to steal from the Beatles, I know, but I have decided that I need to buckle down and get some thoughts on the blog. My last post was written just before I hosted a gathering of eight conservation professionals at my restoration for a field day and brainstorming session. There were three biologists from the South Dakota Game, Fish and Parks Department (GFP), the rangeland specialist for the South Dakota Cooperative Extension Service, and employees for Audubon Dakota, Ducks Unlimited (DU), The Nature Conservancy (TNC), US Fish and Wildlife Service (FWS) and my partner in this venture, Ben who works for Pheasants Forever (PF). What surprised me a little was the depth of interest and knowledge from some of the participants. Most were prairie nerds, just as I am, and really dug into what was out there.

Selfishly, I was most interested in what I could learn from the collective experience of the participants, of course. Secondarily I hoped to deliver the message that the site is available as an example of what can be done with marginal farmground. I put together some maps and handwritten summaries of the project history and goals, similar to what I put into my last blog post, and off we went on walkabout.

The main questions I wanted to explore were:

  1. How seriously should I pursue Canada thistle control?
  2. How should I go about augmenting forb diversity in areas lacking diversity? This is especially true in areas where I have had to apply Milestone herbicide to thin out thistle patches.
  3. Ideas on burning.
  4. Could my restoration be used as the basis of a “learning group” of prairie enthusiasts? (That name is already used for an organization in Wisconsin, but as long as I don’t capitalize it I feel it is fair game to use as a descriptive phrase)

The first question was the most trenchant, as I hope to do some spraying of thistle patches in the next couple weeks as opportunity allows. Not sure how the picture will translate, but here is what at least 2-3 acres of the restoration looks like.

90 % of the vegetation here is Canada thistle, on the way to 100%

The consensus of the group was simply to go easy. As far as I could tell, none of the participants were purists, and most had personal experience with handling thistles in restorations, including the use of Milestone herbicide. There were a couple comments along the lines of “You call this a bad infestation?” However, I had made the choice of showing them the best of the restoration, and we didn’t spend much time in areas with dense thistle patches. That was probably the right choice, considering time constraints, but it skewed their view of my restoration. In effect, they think it is better than it really is. I have several areas that I know the thistle patches are thick enough to preclude growth of the native vegetation, and I think I need to respond to that. However, my thoughts before the gathering were to hire the farmer who rents my land to apply Milestone as a broadcast application over 2-3 areas with the worst thistles on perhaps 20 acres. This would mean that close to half the restoration would have been treated with herbicide in the past two years. Rather than do that I am now planning to use my ATV to spot treat. This will provide much more control over what is treated and probably mean that no more than a couple more acres of the restoration will receive herbicide. This decision became even easier when I found two species growing along the draw next to some of the thistles I had been planning to spray, Great blue lobelia (Lobelia siphilitica) and Canada tick-trefoil (Desmodium canadense). Though a great many forbs have tolerance to Milestone, as I have seen this summer, there is no doubt I will be eliminating species (such as the lobelia) that I don’t want to eliminate in areas where I spray. I have known all along that I would be living with thistles and I just need to make my peace with it.

The second question, that of adding more forbs to forb-deficient areas, is a thornier one, because there are several layers to reaching an answer for a particular site. First, quite simply, is whether more forbs are necessary. Of course I would like a hundred species every damn place I look, but we go back to the concept of ecosystem services. Are more species needed to deliver the services I desire. More is better than less, but we are talking expensive plants here. The success rate of establishment into a three year old planting will be poor and seed will be expensive, whether in the actual cost of purchase or in the time it took to gather. And as long as I have other more receptive areas to seed there is an opportunity cost. Seed spread in one spot obviously can not be spread in another spot. Other factors to consider are whether I have a good grass sod building which will make it difficult for new seedlings to establish, whether I should burn or graze before (and perhaps after) I spread seed, how much I am willing to spend and whether I have, or am likely to treat with Milestone. Over-analysis of a question tends to lead to inaction, not something that suits my personality, but neither do I want to waste a lot of money and time beating my head against a wall.

Here, again, there seemed to be a consensus. Even in areas where it looked like there was room for more seed there might not be. Much of the action in the prairie occurs below the ground. The roots of the various species are doing battle and doing their damndest to lock up as much of the turf under the surface as possible to support what goes on above the surface. Right now I have 20 acres that were seeded last fall that still has a great deal of biotic space to colonize. That is where I should put my resources. I spread a little forb seed in the area of the 100 acre restoration that had been managed to control thistles earlier this year. I will probably purchase some seed of some species which are tolerant of Milestone (which was sprayed there last fall) and spread some more as an experiment, and try to be happy with what I have on the rest. The decision might be different in three or four years if I see forbs being out-competed by the grasses and forb populations and diversity declining in the heart of the restoration.

The third question, regarding burning, was quite immediately relevant because the summer’s drought (which has ended in the 5 weeks since the field day) had opened up the restoration to emergency haying, and one of my renters has cattle, so I was faced with the decision on whether to hay the entire 100 acres or whether to leave some forage standing to burn next spring. The decision is complicated by the fact that because of the drought, the gravel hills with the best forb diversity to manage didn’t have enough biomass to make haying worthwhile or to carry a fire next spring. It is fair to say, however, that every conservation professional I have met loves to burn prairies. Fire is fun, and the short term results oflten tend to be dramatic and very satisfying. My renter with the cattle cut about half of the restoration, including the most productive soils, for hay, and then cut a fire break around the rest. We will attempt to burn the remaining area next spring, realizing that part of it may not carry a burn. It is very possible that it will mean burning on a couple different days, or at least re-starting the fire if it reaches a point where it burns itself out. In native prairies a major goal of fire is often to set back cool season invasive species of grass such as brome and Kentucky bluegrass. While I have a little of those two grasses establishing, a larger short term goal on my restoration will be to discomfit a different invasive species, wormwood sage (Artemisia absinthium). This might mean a different timing for the burn as wormwood grows very early in the spring. It will be incumbent on me to get my resources together so that there is some flexibility in getting the fire done right.

Here is what a fire will have to work with next spring on the left, and the hayed area on the right.

The fourth question, concerning the use of the site as an educational tool, has no immediate answer, and we didn’t spend significant time in discussion at the field day. Really, it has two parts. First, is this a good site to elicit discussion and to provide examples of what can be done with the land? I think it is premature to answer that in full because so much is in flux. The restoration, after three years, is really not yet grazeable, though it might be next year. The new 20 acres is just a weed patch, and will still look like just a weed patch next year. The fencing which will allow rotational grazing is not yet complete. A work in progress is a candidate for a good teaching tool, but it seems to me it will be better in another year. The second part is tougher. I am turning 66 with health issues and an inability to speak. It will be difficult for me to “manage” an educational farm. I hope to have conversations with a wide variety of people to explore the possibilities both in how the site might be used, and who will develop/lead/promote events and tours at the farm. In other words, this was a good introduction to several people who I can have further discussions with to consider the possibilities.

All in all it was a very good day. I brought some sandwiches and food, and a good time was had by all. We saw the best of the restoration, we went to a couple problem areas, we looked at my new restoration and I was very impressed with the quality of the conversation. Everyone there seemed to think it was time well spent and contributed thoughts and ideas. I think that it will be the start of several valuable and enjoyable relationships and many good discussions. In the end I think that what I am doing is a good thing, but I am not pretending to present any grand model for conservation on a working farm, so I need to have fun with it too. Mission accomplished.

Visiting before we head out (Picture by Josh Lefers)

Postscript: About a month after this gathering one of the participants, Josh Lefers, who works for Audubon Dakota emailed to ask permission to come out with two coworkers to see the restoration. I happily invited them and had a great time showing off my work, with some very interesting discussion. The visit was made even sweeter because one of the participants, Juli Bosmoe, had just stood up for my daughter Diane at her wedding. Already progress on goal number four listed above, and a fun morning. Life is pretty sweet some days.

Speculations on Natural History

Future

When I began the thought train that led to the decision to do a big prairie restoration, my goals were fairly well defined, and definitely prompted by my daughter’s master’s thesis characterizing prairies where Dakota skipper butterflies, a federally threatened species, had been found. I had a friend come out and a few skippers have been found on my prairies, and that cemented the idea that a legacy I would leave the world was enhanced and enlarged Dakota skipper habitat. As I have written before, in a post titled, “The Ten Year Plan”, the more comprehensive list of goals would include:

  1. Pollinator Habitat. Much of this was planted as pollinator habitat under the federal Conservation Reserve Program (CRP) with emphasis from me on species used by Dakota skipper butterflies
  2. Water Quality Protection. The 100 acre restoration is part of a closed drainage which ends up in Bitter Lake, a large (approximately 10000 acre) lake about two miles from the restoration. Because of the nature of the soils, though, most of the water which doesn’t leave through evapotranspiration or runoff actually ends up in the aquifer, so we are protecting both the aquifer and Bitter Lake with the project.
  3. Erosion Control. This can obviously be a water quality issue, but the rolling sandy hills covering most of the site are clearly at risk from both water and wind erosion and productivity of those hills is predicated upon keeping and rebuilding the soil.
  4. Wildlife Habitat. Grassland dependent birds including bobolinks, dickcissels, grasshopper sparrows, upland sandpipers, sharptail grouse (all of which I have already seen in the restoration) and others are a category that has been documented as generally declining, and the hope is to provide a boost to local populations.
  5. Carbon Sequestration. The low tillage rotation used by the renter of my farmground is almost certainly already sequestering some carbon, but the use of the full growing season, the lack of disturbance, the absence of the use of fertilizer, tillage and other crop inputs and the buildup of perennial root growth will certainly create a more stable pool of organic matter to sequester carbon. Prairies provide climate change resilient carbon sequestration.
  6. A place to wander and enjoy, perhaps to achieve peace.

This was all very salutory and a good story, but as time has gone by I have realized that I haven’t been thinking big enough, and there was more to gain from the restoration, and from other work that I was doing on the farm. Once more, some of this has gone into past posts, but I think it worthwhile to list and summarize my thoughts here. My goals have expanded to:

  1. Extend the reach of local xeric-adapted biotypes of plants, especially forbs, and thus their attendant pollinators, seed predators, and perhaps microbial partners. A big revelation to me in the last ten years, and thus a big emphasis for my plans, has been the realization that forb diversity in most native prairies in my area is very low. This is true because of overgrazing, but even more true because of the resultant broadcasting of herbicides and the ultra-competitive nature of two introduced grasses, smooth brome and Kentucky bluegrass. Smooth brome, in particular, has the ability in mesic soils to form thick stands that approach monocultures. This is less true, however, in the xeric, gravel hills of my prairies. Even overgrazing, if not combined with flying on broadleaf herbicides, tends to leave a large amount of native forbs, though often in very subdued growth habit. I rather like my tough forbs, and like to think they have value out of proportion to their often humble size and appearance, and so I have been gathering significant amounts of native seed from both my prairies and a few others that I have access to and am attempting to give them some spiffy new “digs” in my restorations. A larger gene pool in proximity allows more possibilities for favorable mutations and crosses; it can in effect enhance the evolutionary capability of my local genotypes. And I am trying to be careful not to be too parochial in my approach, by bringing in seed gathered from other prairies which might provide valuable genetics.

2. To take this idea a step farther, I am looking to establish “Foundation Seed” plots of some of seed that I gather from some of these species to grow out and give the opportunity to harvest larger amounts of seed, potentially for use by other restorers of prairie. I have begun discussions with my young partner Ben to begin a business (though not a business I have any expectations of profit from) to accomplish this goal.

3. Develop an evolving plan to integrate this restoration with some other restoration work I am doing on my farm and with the native prairies and the crop ground. With a neighbor we can then add livestock (the neighbor is already grazing several pastures on my farm) and create a whole farm plan to maximize the various ecosystem services provided by the land. As confidence hopefully builds that we are on the right track we may be able to add some of the neighbor’s acres to the plan.

4. Use my 587acres, the entire farm, as a research/demonstration/educational site. This could be for conservation professionals; it could be for other farmers; it could be used for school groups; it could be a site for someone’s masters thesis research. I know that I am not going to be the person able to manage this aspect down the road; not having a voice anymore makes some of these tasks awkward, However, I can work toward presenting the work and the opportunity to interested parties, and some possibilities might come clear.

The home section. We own all but 120 acres of farm ground in the northwest quarter.

So here is the layout which I have to work with, which doesn’t include 62 acres of CRP and hayland in the section to the west which has been fenced in the last couple weeks and will be grazed very soon. There are management decisions large and small which I need to work through over the next few months. The actions I am taking this year are pretty well decided and in progress, but I am starting a discovery process which will hopefully include input from many other people to think through actions to be taken next year. The next post will be after a brainstorming meeting I am hosting at the site with several conservation professionals which may provide some insight into my future actions so I will end here and pick this up again in a couple weeks. Who knows what might be illuminated by the ferment of discussion and argument? A really crappy paraphrase of Socrates would be that “Wisdom is revealed in the dialectic,” which simply means that several minds working together in verbal give and take can sometimes do what individual minds can’t do. I end with the requisite pretty pictures of the goal. These were taken on a hill in my hayland which was burned this spring, just to the west of the restoration. I don’t know how long it might take to achieve this in my restorations, though I am confident that I will never see it. Still, it is a lovely image to dream about; a goal to aspire to.

Base of burned hill where the prairie onions grow
Towards to top of the hill where the black samson grows
And the middle of the hill where the leadplant is common
Speculations on Natural History

Beginning of July

It has now been three years since the original seeding on the restoration and this will be an update and documentation of where we are now, July 1, 2021. I was heartbroken observing the seeding the first fall in October, 2018, as it was obvious that 80-90% of the seed had ended up on about half the seeding. Providentially, I had been gathering seed all that year, a year with good seed production, and mixed that with several thousand dollars worth of seed that I purchased to spread. Before I talk more about that, this is probably a good time to resurrect the map of the seeding I made that fall evaluating what had happened and what I hoped to do about it.

Zone 1 is the area where almost all the seed dropped during the original seeding. It’s an area of gently rolling, silt to sandy loam soils, fairly mesic, and most of it has a dense stand of the 30 species that went into the seed mix approved by the NRCS. It is literally jam packed with all the cheap, adaptable species which fill up pollinator plots all over the Dakotas and Minnesota. Maximillian sunflower, yellow coneflower, brown eyed susan, blanketflower, gray headed coneflower, horsemint, new england aster, yarrow, purple praire clover, false sunflower, golden alexander, hoary vervain, canada milkvetch, shell leaf penstemon and a few more forbs join with eight or ten grasses to make what looks like a wonderful restoration. And as packed with plants as it is I have spread very little additional seed on this area. Here’s a couple views of what it looks like right now, the last week of June.

A nice horsemint (Monarda fistulosa) with a blooming prairie clover (Dalea purpurea) in the left foreground
A close up of some Monarda, yellow coneflower and a photobombing vetch
A good, broad view. Yarrow and yellow coneflower blooming with probably seven or eight other forb species in the frame along with at least 6 grasses and lots of last year’s growth still cluttering things up.

There’s more Canada thistles than I would like to see, a few patches of which I am spraying with Milestone herbicide to allow at least the grasses to compete for the space. But this was basically beyond helping with additional seed by the first fall. Does this provide the ecological services I hope the restoration provides? Welllll, some of them. It certainly provides food for pollinators; its in a bit of a lull between the early bloomers and the mid summer blooms, but there is a lot of pollen and nectar produced here. It will sequester carbon like a bandit, and provides wonderful ground cover for a lot of life. What’s not to like? We will put that discussion off until we get to Zone 3.

But first to Zone 2. Generally Zone 2 is in more xeric soils than the silt loam of Zone 1. It got a reasonable seeding rate, probably about what it was supposed to get. Two years ago it looked a bit barren compared to Zone 1, but as more seed has germinated (and we have probably lost some of the excess plants from Zone 1) it has come to look just fine. Here’s a couple images.

Looking southeast from the north edge of the restoration.
Pretty good growth on a terrible soil next to an old gravel pit

Because there was much more room for additional seedlings fall of 2018, almost all of Zone 2 got the full component of gathered and purchased seed spread over the top as a second seeding, and we have a smattering of local genotypes in with the bulk of the purchased seed. I am pleased with most of this area, which will look a lot different in a couple years as the bunchgrasses expand their footprint and most of the ground surface gets cover. Species I see in this zone for which I gathered the seed include tall cinquefoil (Drymocallis arguta), downy painted cup (Castilleja sessiflora), black samson (Echinacea angustifolia), prairie onion (Allium stellatum) and alumroot (Heuchera richardsonii). Hopefully more to come as I continue watching.

We now skip to Zone 4, which was a fiasco from the beginning. Almost no seed was dropped on 20-25 acres, and the entire area was Canada thistle which blew over from the neighbor to the south. There was really no choice other than a total re-set, so I have eliminated the thistles with two broadcast herbicide treatments and have respread a mix of grasses to establish cover. Once more, a couple pictures.

A sea of grass with a golden alexander in the middle and a white penstemon (Penstemon digitalis) that have snuck through
A good view that includes a couple milkweed recovering from last fall’s herbicide treatment

I guess that I should be happy that this looks as good as it does. In the spring of 2019 after being in the ground for a year there were very widely spaced perennial grasses, perhaps one/10 square feet and almost no forbs from my seeding. There were, however Canadian thistles over almost every square inch of the 20-25 acres. It was terribly discouraging, but my experience as an agronomist kicked in, and I realized that the thistles would allow nothing else to establish, and almost certainly cause the seeding to be considered a failure by the NRCS, stopping CRP payments. The only choice was to start over, so another batch of seed, 95% grass, was spread in the fall of 2019, and the first of two herbicide treatments was applied. Canada thistle creates an enormous bud bank below the surface, and you have to win a war of attrition. So over three years this has been mowed five or six times, and sprayed twice with different herbicides, and it is turning into a diverse field of native grasses. Along with the big bluestem, Indiangrass, western wheatgrass, Canada wildrye and switchgrass, we have sideoats grama, slender wheatgrass, prairie junegrass and some porcupine grass which was hand spread from gathered seed. There are even a few hardy forbs, as seen above, notably golden alexanders which are remarkably tolerant to the herbicides I have used. Earlier this spring I experimented with spreading some new forb seed over part of Zone 4, and if it looks worthwhile I will likely do more this fall.

But where are we sitting on the question of ecosystem services? Not great. Erosion control and water purification are covered, and it acts as a buffer from pesticide applications that are occasionally made on the cropped field to the east. Carbon sequestration is partially covered, though would be a lot better if there were still some legumes to feed nitrogen into the system. No pollinator habitat; and no habitat for lots of little critters that want a diverse herbaceous buffet and landscape to live in. And Zone 4 makes no contribution to the two specific overriding goals I want my restoration to accomplish: It provides little for the Dakota skipper butterfly and it does not contribute to the preservation and spread of the local plant genotypes. Which brings us to Zone 3.

An interesting variety of native forbs, perhaps 15 species identifiable in this photo
The most common forb in Zone 3 is tall cinquefoil (Drymocallis arguta), all from seed I gathered, seen in the lower left of this frame
Pennsylvania cinquefoil (Potentilla pennsylvanica) in front of an enormous blooming prairie junegrass (Koelaria macrantha)
Vigorous blanketflower (Gaillardia aristata), yellow coneflower (Ratibida pinnata), black samson (Echinacea angustifolia) and purple prairie clover (Dalea purpurea) all xeric adapted species doing well, and lots of droughty Canada milkvetch (Astragalus canadensis) which is not adapted to such a paltry amount of water.

What all these pictures have in common is their forb diversity. All this occurs on perhaps 20-25 acres of very xeric hillsides, some almost bereft of anything recognizable as soil. There would be very little overburden to remove should we wish to turn this into a gravel mine. The diversity is fairly evenly split between species which were either seeded in the original seeding or broadcast from purchased seed that fall, and species from which I gathered the seed in my adjoining native prairie. Several species that I gathered have become some of the dominant contributors to my restoration, notably slender penstemon (Penstemon gracilis), tall cinquefoil, downy painted cup (Castilleja sessiflora) and black samson, but there are many others. Most of this zone has been spread with seed 4 separate times. My hope had been to increase the range for local genotypes of my prairie species, and I have been able to do that for 20-25 species. This pleases me greatly. After three years I have seen three species for the first time this spring, slender milkvetch (Astragalus flexuosus), prairie turnip (Pediomelum escusenta) and leadplant (Amorpha canescens). This gives me hope of yet seeing some of the dozen or so species for which I gathered and spread seed with no visible results yet.

Pollinator activity in these areas is ubiquitous, and the number of black samson I have blooming out there gives me hope that we may even find a Dakota skipper butterfly out there someday slurping up some nectar. This still doesn’t look anything like the native prairies in the area, but there are solid bones to grow on. This is what I envisioned when I dreamed of my restoration, and on a few acres my dreams came true.

Speculations on Natural History

A Small Success

I had hoped to have some of my native prairie burned this year, but my management choices last year made it difficult. The farmer that rents my pastures was running out of grass in September, because of a long, hot summer, so I suggested they fence in 20 acres of prairie (that was burned 3 years ago) to graze with the adjacent pasture. This piece hadn’t been grazed for 50 years or so, and several acres were an impenetrable mass of brome that I hoped the cattle would graze down hard. As it turned out there was so much old dead in that area that they failed to make much of a dent in the thickest areas. They did , however graze enough on the rest of the pasture to remove burning as a management tool this spring. On the hayland that was burned four years ago, I decided to make hay for our horses because our forage was also short, so there was little left to burn there either. However, there were a couple hills too steep and short of forage to be worth haying, and these were left. Though they weren’t worth haying, there was plenty of dead forage from last year to carry a burn.

So in the end we burned three small areas, the largest about an acre. I had been disappointed in that particular hill the past couple years, as there was hardly enough forbs blooming and making seed to be worth walking over to gather. The lower slopes were brome and Kentucky bluegrass (Poa pratensis), and the top was more blue grama (Bouteloua gracilis) with the bluegrass. There were a few black samson (Echinacea angustifolia) on the top, and a few roses (Rosa arkansana) and onions (Allium stellatum) towards the base of the hill. I thought that a couple more things would show up and was hoping to try an idea of spraying Roundup over the burn regrowth in a couple very small areas of the brome and then carpet bombing native seed over the top.

These are a couple pictures a week after the burn. Just a few spears of brome coming.

When I saw this, these pictures being representative of much of the hill, I figured I would come out in 2-3 weeks to try out my idea. Though the burned clumps indicate a native bunchgrass, likely needle and thread (Stipa comata), nothing that I saw indicated what I came back to two weeks later. Here is a smorgasbord of offerings of what the hill looked lie 3 weeks post-burn:

Here we have leadplant (Amorpha canescens), alumroot (Heuchera richardsonii), silky aster (Symphyotricum sericeum), some little stiff sunflower (Helianthus pauciflorus) shoots, and another aster, probably aromatic aster (S. oblongifolium) in the lower right.
This picture is bookended by two small, blooming buffalo beans (Astragalus crassicarpus).
Additional species here are black samson (Echinacea angustifolia) and probably heart leafed golden alexander (Zizia aptera) on the left.
Here we can add pasqueflower in the upper left (Anemone patens) to our cast.

There’s more, but you get the idea. These pictures have two things in common: they are all about 5-10 square feet, the area I was going to kill with Roundup, and the fact that it would be very stupid to spray Roundup when this diversity is staring me in the face. The next step will be in another week to two, to see if grass diversity matches forb diversity, and to see how many new forbs I find. I have 20 so far.

A final interesting picture:

Four various sized burned clumps of pincushion cactus (Coryphantha vivipara).

Our hills have always had some of the easternmost examples of this cactus. It is only found on extremely xeric, south facing slopes, and growing up I would have bet that I could count all the cactus we had on my fingers and toes. Four years ago I accidentally started a fire in early April that denuded 30 acres of prairie, and showed me that I had many more cactus than I assumed. Here is another example. All together there are probably 10 cactus carcasses on the south facing crest of the one acre hill. Four years ago I thought that I had probably killed my cactus, and instead found that I had stimulated a burst of new growth. This burn was over a month later, about the 15th of May. We will see what the effect on cactus is this year. All in all, the burn was a success, a small success in size, but a success nonetheless. Every year is so different; there is always so much to learn.

Speculations on Natural History

Not All Plants Are Created Equal

One of my primary hopes for the restorations I am doing is to extend the reach of the native species that I have growing in my relict prairies in the hills of northeast South Dakota. Without getting too deep into the biological scrum that is inherent in the concept of a species, it is obvious that the plants that I have growing in my prairies are not the same genetics as the plants that I grow from purchased seed. They are the same species in the sense that they will cross pollinate with the plants grown from purchased seed, but the phenotype, the physical representation of the plant as it grows and develops, is different. In some cases, such as the blanketflower that was in the CRP mix I purchased three years ago, they are very different. I looked back at the seed tags and saw that the seed came from Colorado, at least 600 miles away, for crying out loud. I was too naive when I began this process to even realize this was how the business worked, though in retrospect I should have been asking more questions. This certainly doesn’t guarantee that the Colorado blanketflower will die soon, or that it can’t contribute to the ecosystem services I hope the restoration accomplishes, but it brings up some thorny issues.

First and foremost, is whether they will live. Selections on most wildflowers/forbs and even many grasses are made to appeal to gardeners, not restorers. That means it is almost inevitable that the selections came from more gentle, forgiving environments than my prairies. Exhibit A is below:

Two very hardy, windblown pasqueflowers

These pasques were blooming, and at least trying to pollinate, on a 35 degree day. While it had been warmer several days before, raising the soil temperature enough to stimulate initiation of spring growth, the highest air temperature for four days was 40. They don’t look very impressive, but I wonder if pasques growing from purchased seed would be out blooming and trying to pollinate. While on the whole it was a very easy winter, there was a ten day stretch in February when temperatures failed to get above zero, with minimal snow cover. What effect will that have on my blanketflowers from Colorado? Am I likely to lose a chunk of my original seeding? I don’t know, but will begin to find out very soon as soil temps rise.

While survival is paramount, I also wonder about the timing of bloom matching the timing of pollinator activity, the possibility that cross pollination back to my native forbs may actually produce maladapted seed, and even the introduced plants’ compatibility with the local microbial community. Marissa Ahlering, with The Nature Conservancy, has presented the idea that climate resilience may be enhanced by seed sourced from outside the local community, as opposed to the accepted wisdom of only using locally sourced seed, but she was suggesting incremental changes, not adding seed gathered or selected from 600 miles away. Ultimately the real question is what seed will further my long term goals for the restoration.

It is fair to now ask where I am going with this. The seedings are done and any additional seed will come from seed I gather. Why beat the topic about the head, so to speak? Well, I am afraid that as long as I am alive nothing will ever truly be completely finished. There are many tangential paths to follow.

The next part of this story begins with a very interesting visit to an old friend a week ago. Dave Ode was the State Botanist for the South Dakota Department of Game, Fish and Parks for many years, and has an incredibly broad experience in the conservation history and needs in South Dakota. He has chosen as a retirement project increasing seed from selections from a number of the native milkweed species in South Dakota. His house in the country is ringed by small plots of these milkweeds, growing out the seed. I was very interested because I have already been gathering some seed from my three year old restoration, spreading it over the 20 acres that I seeded last fall, and even letting my friend Ben gather some to sell. What changed how I viewed the project, however was a simple descriptive phrase that Dave used, that he was growing “Foundation seed”. Foundation seed is a common phrase in the agricultural seed industry designating the original stock to increase seed from a new, discrete genetic selection. Foundation seed implies that the particular genetics is of a quality to be increased so that it could be widely planted. A farmer doesn’t just plant wheat. The farmer plants wheat of a particular variety that was selected for certain qualities and increased from Foundation seed.

We didn’t get too deep into Dave’s thought process, but I think that he was concerned that in the huge push to plant milkweeds in support of monarch butterflies, a lot of ill adapted seed was being planted. Several of the species that Dave is growing are completely unavailable from commercial vendors, and all was collected from native sources in South Dakota that he has documented. I need to have him elaborate more on the potential avenues for distributing the seed, but what he has told me so far implies that he feels the needs are large enough and varied enough that it is not necessary to worry about it too much. He mentioned several parties he had been in contact with regarding distribution of the seed he grows, and when I left he gave me small amounts of two species of milkweed to use in my restoration. I now wonder if I shouldn’t treat them as foundation seed and use them for plots to further increase availability.

And that brings me back to my prairies, my restorations and my plans for the year. I had already talked to my friend Ben about starting some seed plots of gathered seed, primarily as a potential income source. Now I am thinking a little bigger, in effect establishing my own foundation seed enterprise. What species will I concentrate on and what properties will I look for? Well. I won’t overthink it. If there is a species that is difficult to access it will be a candidate, and its ability to thrive in the environment of my prairies is the property that I value. Maybe the seed will only be used by Ben and me, but maybe there will be others interested in seed from this geography, from this sort of site. Maybe I have something to offer that part of the restoration world that is working to bring back prairies in a circle around where I live.

Slender milkvetch (Astragalus flexuosus)

If I were interested in doing a restoration at Jamestown, North Dakota or Brookings, South Dakota or perhaps even Alexandria, Minnesota, I know I would be interested in slender milkvetch seed sourced from a collection on my prairies in Day County. This is one of many species of forbs in my prairies that cannot be purchased. Perhaps I can facilitate their availability for others This is potentially a large project, far more than I would ever be able to accomplish myself in my diminished physical state, but I am not alone. I already have some potential partners. But first I have much to learn.

Postscript: I wrote the first draft of this two days ago. Today I returned to the restoration to look around and see what had begun growing. Well, not too damn many of my blanketflowers are growing. Blanketflower is not a long lived species but I still didn’t expect to find 90% of the plants dead. I think my Colorado plants got a little stressed during the February cold spell and gave up. The restoration was awash in blanketflower blooms the past two years and perhaps I will have a new crop from all the seed that has dropped. I think that convinces me that blanketflower from my native prairies is going to be one of my Foundation seed choices.

Speculations on Natural History

The 2021 Plan

The last post was the picture from above, flying at 30,000 feet and looking at the farm across both space and time. That’s fun to do, and necessary as a starting point, but ideas need to lead to actions. Most of the actions I want to take in 2021 are already baked into the cake, so to speak, that I began with previous seedings, so that is where we can begin.

First, there is still work to be done on the restoration that was seeded in June, 2018. While I am not planning to spread any more seed on that restoration, I am certain that I will be tempted to supplement thin areas. There is enough native species growing and producing seed now, however, that seeding may be as simple as gathering on one side of a hill and scattering what I gather on the other side of the hill. I have documented about 90 species so far on the 100 acre restoration, and some of them were already producing significant amounts of seed last year. I expect to see more this year. Mostly, though, I will spend my time spot-treating biennial and Canada thistles with herbicide. It will not be possible to eliminate thistles on the restoration – I would spend a lot of money and also eliminate most of my native forbs. However,I would like to thin patches enough to keep allelopathic effects in check and to allow native species to establish completely. While herbicide application is not a very palatable management choice I am afraid that I need to risk some damage to some forbs in order to allow many others to establish and colonize. Two or three acres of actual herbicide treatment can go a very long way if I am resolute and judicious with spot treating.

Another reason why I will be unlikely to spread new seed on the older restoration is that I am likely to obsessively gather and purchase seed to topdress additional seed on the 20 acres that were seeded last fall. I do need to be a bit careful, as I have gathered a lot of seed the past three years. For most species that is not a problem because it is impossible to gather a high percentage of their seed production; the problem is that it is difficult to gather much at all before the seed drops, blows away or the plant senesces and rolls away. For a few species, however, notably black samson (Echinacea angustifolia) and groundplum milkvetch (Astragalus crassicarpus) it is possible to harvest almost every seed. This summer I need to gather the seed in a more conservative manner on such species, leaving more on the landscape.

Something that would help that goal would be access to other native seed sources. As it turns out there is a 70 acre mesic prairie that adjoins farmland that I have consulted on for many years located about forty miles southeast of where I live. I was walking in that prairie last fall when a vehicle with Minnesota license plates drove up. The young gentleman was an employee of Prairie Restorations Inc., a business that has a long history of planning and implementing restorations in Minnesota. They had been contacted by the landowner, who lives in the Twin Cities, to give a bid on performing a prescribed burn on the prairie. While it is a long way to drive to gather seed, fire can stimulate spectacular seed production that might provide a bonanza worth the drive, and I may need to contact the landowner to receive permission to gather.

Another task I hope to accomplish is to expand my soil carbon sampling project. So far I have seven sampling points providing baseline measurements in the 100 acre restoration and adjacent cropped ground. I hope to expand that to take samples in the new 20 acre restoration and adjacent fields. The task is made more difficult by the soil type, a very thin glacial outwash soil. I may have to settle for 12-18″ samples because the gravel and stones that underlay the topsoil make deeper sampling useless. In any case I will figure out a protocol that fits the site and get more information.

On a different front, I entered into a contract with Ducks Unlimited (DU) to help fence the restorations so that I can use cattle to help achieve my goals. This summer two new pastures will be created, both combining some native prairie with some restored prairie, a total of a little over 100 acres. This will create a potential grazing system of four paddocks, totalling about 170 acres. If you then add the grazing of cover crops and crop residues on adjacent farm fields it should be possible to have a unit providing well over 200 Animal Unit Months (AUM’s), or almost enough for a 40 cow herd for a six month grazing season. The 20 acres that were seeded last fall won’t be ready for any grazing until 2022 or 2023, but the assistance from DU runs out on June 30, so we begin on 12000′ of fencing soon.

Finally, my dream for many years was to have a retirement business purchasing land to restore and implement conservation practices on, much as I have done with my home farm. My health issues have put that dream out of my mind the past couple years as I realized there is a valid reason that 65 is considered a reasonable retirement age. Physical infirmities limit one’s abilities to take on new projects. That has changed because of my recent surgeries. While I am still a used up 65 year old guy, I am now a used up 65 year old guy with more energy. The results of the surgery have not only greatly reduced my susceptibility to pneumonia, they have also provided more consistent ability to get oxygen, and thus more energy and stamina. This means more and higher quality sleep and also better aerobic capacity. I am exploring different possible partnerships and collaboration, both with used up old farts like myself who can provide experience and perhaps capital, and with young conservation professionals who provide the youth and energy that I lack. We will see; perhaps I can flesh out some ideas in a future blog post.

That’s what is on my plate in 2021. I have begun preparations on all of the tasks I listed, and spring is here, or at least the geese and ducks think so. Over the last few days we have received over three inches of rain on what was very dry land. When it warms up we will see if I have the time, energy and good health to accomplish these goals and to kick off the 10 year plan with a flourish. I need to – it won’t get any easier. And I will close with the first wildflower of the spring, a picture of a pasque flower that I took before Easter, the earliest I have ever seen them bloom.

Speculations on Natural History

A Ten Year Plan

Last fall while I was writing about the planning and execution of planting 20 more acres of prairie I was also planning and the surgeons were executing a laryngectomy. A laryngectomy is a serious operation (mine turned into three operations) that removes the larynx (voicebox), rebuilds the esophagus and, as a result, separates the air (going in the tracheostomy tube in my throat to the lungs) from the food (mouth to stomach). There is no longer a connection between the two paths. This leads to some interesting effects such as a greatly diminished sense of smell (since air no longer goes through my nose while breathing) and difficulty spitting (since I can’t summon up air to provide force). More importantly, it means that I should no longer be prone to the chronic lung infections and pneumonia which were fed by the leakage of food and secretions into my lungs. Big stuff, because to paraphrase my surgeon, “If you think you’re going to live a long life getting pneumonia regularly, you are mistaken.

In other works, a long range plan was a pointless exercise. While I may not have been in imminent peril, it was unlikely that I would be around to execute a ten year plan. The surgeries that I had four months ago appear to have accomplished their purpose. I no longer suffer from a chronic bacterial infection in my lungs; I am breathing better than I have for a very long time. This means that even through my healing and rehabilitation, which was significant, I usually had more energy than before the surgery. The reconstructed esophagus is even allowing me to eat again. And I now feel that I have a future. I can begin the work on a long range plan for my farm, what I am calling “the ten year plan”.

Any plan is simply a road map of actions to achieve goals, so first I need to define my goals. I’ve discussed this in the past, but I feel that my good fortune in having control of a substantial block of land, almost 590 acres on my “home farm”, meaning the farm where I grew up, creates both the opportunity and the obligation to try to do something grand. Maybe I should capitalize that to emphasize the idea; to Do Something Grand! The goal is nothing less than to produce food, improve the productivity of both the farmed acres and the rangeland, store carbon, filter water, provide habitat for native plants and animals; and to provide recreation, pleasure and peace for my family and others who may visit. If I can tie this in with any neighbors and neighboring land then those benefits can hopefully accrue in a widening circle, amplifying the effects of actions taken on my farm. How does one accomplish all this on 590 acres? “Aye, there’s the rub!” to quote Shakespeare. There lies the need for a carefully thought out and flexible plan. This post is an introduction to that and will begin once more with a map.

An aerial view of the “home farm” from the south.

Not a fancy map, one with a few scribbled notes, and one I hope to edit and update with more specific planning information in the future. We own three quarters and a 40 in Section 12, and a 65 acre chunk of grass in Section 11 to the west, on the southeast side of Anderson Lake. At this time there is about 150 acres of native grass in four parcels, 210 acres of restored prairie of various qualities and 220 acres of cropped ground. This surrounds 120 acres of cropped ground owned and farmed by a neighbor, who also rents my pastures (though not my cropped acres). This is the canvas, so to speak, though the metaphor falls flat when one thinks about it. We are not creating a painting, an image that pleases us. We are trying to engage in a dance with the natural environment to modify the biotic community on this 590 acres to provide the various services I listed earlier. The idea of control, or the idea that we can create something is dangerous and counterproductive. What can be done is to create conditions, a starting point; and then let time, weather and the seasons develop what they will, and dance with the results.

So what are the tools that can be used to initiate and engage in this metaphor of the dance? I have already seeded down 210 acres to varying complexities of native species, and that may be all that I seed of the farm. There will probably be topdressing of additional seed on the most recent restoration, and perhaps on some of the less diverse restoration acres (about half has 100-150 species seeded and the other half 20-40). We will probably use fire as a tool on some acres on occasion, including on 15-20 acres this spring. On the cropped acres we will be incorporating cover crops, and hoping to move from reduced tillage to a pure no-till system. The big tool to tie everything together, and hopefully to make the dance really swing, will be creative use of cattle to achieve management goals.

Ultimately it’s all about the fate of the biomass that grown on the farm. Perhaps 4-5,000,000 pounds of dry matter biomass will be created on the 587 acres every year, and the fate of that biomass will determine whether we achieve the ecosystem services we desire. Biomass as wheat or corn or soybeans will be removed, providing food and fuel. Cattle will remove biomass to create beef, as will other grazing animals from deer to rabbits to grasshoppers. The stabilization of biomass as organic matter will sequester carbon in the soil. The soil will be physically protected both by the covering of biomass, and chemically protected by the “glue” effect of the microbial byproducts as they eat and modify the residues of the year. Those stabilized soil clumps (peds) allow water infiltration and thus reduce runoff and cleanse the water as it percolates through the soil profile. This is obviously dependent upon a robust microbiology in my soils, and the biomass is the home of the microbes, as well as the feedstock used by the microbial community, including the symbionts that will support lush, efficient plant growth. It is the structure, both above and below ground, which provides a home for animal life. In the prairies it’s density (or lack thereof) will favor different suites of plants, and thus other life. Managing land is then, to a large extent, managing the fate, distribution, height, density and type of biomass left after a year of growth and use. As every year gives a different symphony of rain, temperatures, wind and sunlight, the dance needs to be a little different every year.

The tools are cows, combines, mowers, tillage implements, seeding, and the lighted match, though not always in that order. I emphasize that cattle are integral to the plan, and that is a complicating factor, as they are unlikely to be our cattle. I will need to have a partner who understands my goals and has some flexibility, even as I will need to understand the constraints that he is working under. That is a challenge I welcome, as I feel it will sharpen my thought and reasoning. We all get into mental ruts, but that won’t cut it if I am challenged by a sharp young farmer. Our goals will not be the same, but I am optimistic that collaboration will lead to the results we both desire.

So that is the big picture. The next post will delve into the specifics of actions I plan to take this year and how they advance the greater goals. Every action needs to advance the capability to provide those ecosystem services, if only indirectly. Every action needs to enhance the ability of the land to grow food, store carbon, filter water, support pollinators, enhance the biodiversity of the neighborhood and to provide pleasure and peace to those who go there. Those goals need to be taped up where I will see and remember them, at least metaphorically, in the conversations I have with myself and others. So today I am putting up the bulletin board in my brain and writing my goals in capital letters. And then we will begin with a slow, simple waltz, but more intricate routines may lie ahead.