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The 2023 Plan, Three Lessons to Guide Me

As time goes on my hope for what can be accomplished by my humble restorations develops and grows. There is an entire post from 2021 on the topic of my evolving goals, but I think the clarity provided by another year of thought, wandering and discussion has modified those goals enough to deserve a new blog post. The overarching theme, the emerging goal, that I want to wrap my efforts around in 2023 is the building of native forb populations on the various restored prairies as reservoirs and examples of the genetics that have become adapted to this corner of the world. If I can do that, those plants can be used as seed sources for others. It’s attempting to create a native plant community within which a genetically diverse, resilient population of as many locally extant wildflowers as possible can flourish, not just for my site, but hopefully as a seed source for other restorations and even for reseeding of depauperate native prairies. I want to take my good fortune in having the opportunity to do these restorations and to offer it to others. The first lesson was the realization of what these restorations could contribute, the amount and quality of seed that can be produced if populations of forbs are large. I can visualize it in a very concrete manner, partly because there are several species that already have what I consider abnormally high populations in my restorations, and I have been harvesting seed from those species.

What are the components of a plan to accomplish this increase in forb populations? And what can I do to significantly move this agenda forward in 2023? First, to use an old saying: “stick to the knitting”. I have a great many reproducing plants of forb species of interest already growing in my restoration. Anything that I can do to make those plants healthier and more competitive furthers my goals. Thus, I hope to get a burn done on the 60 acres with the best diversity this coming April. Fire isn’t magic, but it can seem like magic. The tendency of many forb species to grow, spread and make seed after a spring burn is pretty dramatic. As I indicated, I have already been gathering seed of four species in the restoration which are primarily derived from the seed that I have gathered and spread. By this next summer and fall I have hopes to increase that to eight or ten species. Some of this seed will likely be topdressed over the last two restorations that I have done, particularly over the 20 acres that were seeded last November. However, I hope and expect that there will be enough seed to share with others who are working on similar projects.

This is still only ten species of forbs at best, not the 80-100 species of wildflowers that occur in the native prairies on my farm (I need to compile a complete list to give myself a starting point for future efforts). While I have examples of most of those species in the restoration already, populations aren’t sufficient to have hopes of significant seed production, and I am just hopeful that enough seed is produced to eventually replace, or increase populations of those species within the restoration. As my goals have expanded so must my repertoire of methods to reach those goals. To be more specific, if my restoration is to be a reservoir of seed for the conservation community in this area I need to find ways to increase populations of many more species, first to make them resilient, long lived contributors to my prairies, and subsequently to provide seed for others. Thus, I plan to take a more active part in further increasing populations than I have the past couple years.

Right now there is a 50-60 acre area in the original 100 acre restoration that has a significant population of forbs resulting from seed that I have gathered from my prairies as well as some other prairies that I have access to. This is the area where seed has already been gathered. However, I have 230 acres of former cropped ground that I have seeded down, and by the end of this year 175 acres of it will be under easement with the US Fish and Wildlife Service (FWS). On the FWS easement acres I will feel it worthwhile to spend precious resources, whether that be financial resources or the time and energy that I can put towards this endeavor. That means that there are about 120 additional acres that will be under easement that could benefit greatly from efforts to increase populations of native forbs. Easiest to help are two 20 acre fields that have been seeded in the last two years that have not yet filled in with plants. Experience on the older restoration has shown that it is worthwhile spreading new seed for three years after the original seeding before competition from existing plants precludes efficient colonization from new seedlings. This avenue is likely almost closed to me on the older restorations unless I create disturbance to open things up.

I also need to factor in the probability that some or many of the forbs which have come from my gathered seed are from populations that have a narrow genetic base, the topic of a recent blog post. I not only need to increase number of plants; I need to increase genetic diversity. This is unlikely to occur if I just keep recycling my own seed from the plants on my prairies, so I need to look elsewhere. As I move ahead, I see several sources of seed that will likely have genes different from the ones in my prairies. The first, and easiest, is to gather from other prairies in the surrounding neighborhood. I have a few that I have access to within reasonable driving distance, and will continue to gather and use that seed. This is obviously a good choice as those plants are certain to be adapted to this latitude and climate, but they are discrete populations likely to have slightly different genomes. However, I only have additional sources of perhaps 40-50 species locally, and substantial amounts that I can gather of perhaps half that. That leaves at least 40-50 species for which I need alternate seed sources.

The second, and easiest, path is to buy seed. I bought seed of many species this fall for the new 20 acres of restoration and plan to purchase a significant amount this winter to spread in the spring. As I wrote in that earlier post on the topic, I have, and will attempt to continue to ascertain the origins of that seed, the provenance, to avoid planting obviously maladapted genetics, and hopefully plant seed that provides useful alleles, useful traits to add to the cumulative genetic resource of my forbs. I have already been engaging in conversations with my contact at Milborn Seeds, the local purveyor that I work regularly with, and am getting a list of species together to ask 2-3 other vendors about right now. I really haven’t decided where to draw a line to define “locally adapted seed”, and the answer is likely to be different for different species. In effect, it might depend upon how desperate I feel about the need for an additional source. For a species for which I have no additional sources a generic answer of “Minnesota selection” will likely cause me to leap at a chance to buy some. For others, where I feel I can afford to be more picky because I already have multiple sources, the source might have to be within 100 miles. That is unlikely to be possible from seed vendors in eastern Minnesota or Nebraska.

A third path is to trade seed that has been gathered by other enthusiasts and conservation professionals around here, to try to establish a seed exchange. I already do that with my friend Ben, though mostly I am given or purchase what he gathers. I actually had high hopes a year ago that I would be able to get a great deal of seed from Ben, but he and his wife decided to have a baby instead. So it goes. I don’t look at this as a way to get a lot of seed, rather a targeted way to access small amounts of specific species. This could be done with individuals working on their own, or with organizations working in restoration ecology such as South Dakota Department of Game, Fish and Parks, FWS or The Nature Conservancy (TNC).

I have written about all this in various guises before, but it is basically a preamble to what I hope and expect is a large part of my efforts this next couple years, and the second lesson of the three that I allude to in the title. That is that I don’t have to limit myself to flinging this precious seed into the wind. That can be a dicey enterprise even on a new seeding, but is certain to be very inefficient on an established restoration. What I hope to spend a significant time doing early this summer is transplanting seedlings of forb species that I choose to concentrate on. In order to do this I need to find the appropriate seed, get it stratified and/or scarified, get resources together to germinate and grow the seeds to a size to transplant, and then finally to gather the labor to get them in the ground and marked. This is all prompted by my relationship with Dr. Lora Perkins of South Dakota State University (SDSU), whom I have been giving seeds to for a couple years, and who grew seedlings for me to plant last summer. Before that I had never considered anything other than planting or spreading seed directly in the field. Though circumstances caused my success rate to be poor on the transplants this past summer, the experience was still revelatory. I have spread seed of standing milkvetch (Astragalus adsurgens), in admittedly small amounts, for three years, and so far I have found one plant in the restoration derived from that seed. I planted about a dozen seedlings last spring and believe I now have two more. If I can more carefully get fifty or a hundred planted this spring, what might I end up with? This might sound narrowly focused when I am trying to shepherd development on 230 acres of restorations, but it might be the only way to get a population large enough to be viable in the long term, and to be a significant contributor to the ecosystem services that I desire to provide. Standing milkvetch is a species that is not available from any vendor within several hundred miles. Fifty or one hundred reproducing plants may eventually become several hundred plants and establish a sustainable population here. I aspire to no less than contributing to the long term survival of a suite of forbs/wildflowers with genetics adapted to a significant geographic area, and I am working on the list of species that I hope to work with in 2023, hoping to grow and plant seedlings of 15-20 species this year. This is big stuff here.

There is a catch, however, a large one. I am 67 years old, and my various health issues could preclude making significant progress. There is not a day where I don’t ponder the vagaries of my physical condition, attempting to strike a balance between getting shit done and taking care of myself; ambition versus prudence, or perhaps hubris versus self-awareness. How aggressively can I plan? How many plants and how many species can I attempt? What are the opportunity costs of this new obsession of mine, whether in health or in other activities? I feel like Hamlet talking to himself, “To be or not to be, this is the question.” – but this is real life, dammit! It demands attention and thought. It demands time to allow for wise decision making, and it demands a wide angle view of my world. This leads to the second half of the 2023 plan, and the third lesson, one that all of us tend to learn, forget and relearn repeatedly.

That lesson which has been developing over several years is that this is not just about me. As mentioned earlier, I have a partner in Dr. Perkins of SDSU. Lora has indicated that she will be able to help me out by growing seedlings for me to purchase. A partner with a crew of sharp, young grad students and greenhouse space is a huge resource for me. I have another probable partner at SDSU in Dr. Arvid Boe, an old friend who has been working on growing native species for over forty years. Arvid did an imitation of the old magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat when I last visited him, instead pulling out boxes of packets of old seed of three milkvetches (Astragalus sp.) after I enquired about possible seed sources for those species. He then also offered greenhouse space for us to share, making this into an joint exploratory project on those species. My old friend Dave Ode will once more supply me with seed of two or three xeric adapted milkweed species from central South Dakota, and may help Arvid and I on the Astragalus project. The demands of karma mean that all this good fortune needs to be respected, of course. I have to find ways to repay and reward such kindness, and I plan to do that, both with the individuals involved and with the world at large.

I also have friends who have helped me gather and spread seed over the years, and who last year helped me to plant some of the seedlings. Notably that includes my friend Ben Lardy, who works as a biologist for the South Dakota Department of Game, Fish and Parks. Ben was integral to the seeding of several of the restorations, and has provided gathered seed over the past several years. It includes Roger Assmus, an old friend from graduate school who has come up several times each of the last three years to gather and later to spread seed, and Bri Lind, who was a good friend of our younger daughter in graduate school, and now works for the EROS Data Center as a GIS specialist. Bri has come up several times over the years to gather seed, and she helped me put in seedlings last spring.

So you might ask where the lesson lies, as this is all old news and existing relationships. The lesson lies in recognizing that ultimately this isn’t “my” restoration. My efforts are not just for me and my family. This restoration, especially with the perpetual easements I am agreeing to, belongs to the world. My blog unavoidably is written in the first person and talks about me a lot. It’s my blog, after all. However, this isn’t just my land anymore. It is part of the US National Wildlife Refuge System, and I need to look more expansively at accessing help for my activities. As part of the easement process I will receive a payment from the government for the development rights to the land, and I need to find a way to use some of that money to pay for help to get these seedlings in the ground and to nurture this project.

A question that I have addressed a couple times before has been the worth of this project to society, to the greater world. Figures lie, and liars figure, so I won’t bore you with monetary calculations right now. What I do know is that I feel deeply, in a very visceral way, that this is a good and valuable thing to do. I feel that the time my friends put into it is not just for me, but their contribution to the health of the future world. Land is important and can provide myriad benefits to us and to our children, and I and my friends will be warriors, and do right by this land for all who are yet to come.

Summarizing 2022

In June I wrote a post entitled “June Observations, 2022”. I periodically revisit old blog posts to continue to root out grammar mistakes and punctuation problems I have missed, and in re-reading that post found that I had promised a year-end summary. Much of this has been referred to in blog posts earlier this year, but this perhaps provides a more complete context. Or, I just like repeating what I have already said. Either way works for me. Fair enough, here goes.

Here is the centerpoint of the entire blog post, and one might say, the entire year. These two pictures aren’t from the identical location, rather from two nearby sites on the same hill a year apart, but I truly believe these photos are representative of the development of the restoration over the past year. Even though the second picture was taken a couple weeks earlier in the summer it shows a denser, more varied canopy of plants and a much higher percentage of ground cover. While I was happy with the development in 2021 I worried that it would take 20 years to achieve full ground cover on the eroded, damaged hills, and that aside from a little pollinator food very few ecosystem benefits would accrue. Certainly the 2021 picture doesn’t yell out “Carbon Sequestration!” with the sparsity of vegetation. However, while the 2022 picture may not be yelling, it may at least be quietly suggesting “carbon sequestration”. The improvement also means that I no longer worry so much about erosion because of the lack of ground cover. These soils will always have some gaps that show the gravel underneath and allow annuals to grow after summer rains, but if I look at the hilltops a few hundred yards away in the relict prairies, those gaps are very small, and I can now visualize my restoration reaching that standard soon. These sites are very droughty, and as such have a limited number of species which will grow there long-term, and I see that sorting process progressively occurring on the restoration, with the grasses and wildflowers that need more water wasting away and being replaced by a burgeoning cover of xeric adapted species as the winnowing process continues. Eventually, the tall warm-season grasses and mesic adapted forbs, which are already sparse on these hills, will disappear and the xeric species should take over. If one could look closely enough I think we would find almost all of the species in the 2022 picture are plants that survive droughty soils.

In short, I am ecstatic at the progress that has been made during the last year. The area where those pictures were taken received almost all its seed in three or four topdressings one and two years after the original seeding. As such it was a blank slate upon which my gathered forbs were spattered in my best Jackson Pollock imitation, and there is less competition from the seed that I purchased for the original CRP seeding. In areas that received more of the seed during the original seeding, mostly better soils, there are fewer of my gathered forbs as there were fewer open spaces they could fill and much more below ground root competition, but I see quite a few plants of some of the more common species that have resulted from the topdressings, such as tall cinquefoil, white penstemon, slender penstemon, black samson and stiff sunflower. And I see scattered plants of many others, including leadplant, alumroot, silky and sky blue asters, gray goldenrod, prairie smoke and even a few groundplum milkvetch. As I keep saying (and keep reminding myself) we are playing the long game here, and even a few of the right plants in the right place could have a big impact in fifty or a hundred years. The next picture was taken about 200 yards from the previous photo. Between the scattered plants from seed gathered from my prairies, some possible further augmentation and potential seed spread from more diverse areas nearby I have high hopes for areas like this, which lack the maximum diversity of the best areas of the restoration, but have great potential.

I have a greater dilemma on 25 acres of mesic soil that received the full complement of seed during the original CRP seeding in June, 2018. Actually, much of it received a double or even a triple seeding. As this was immediately obvious later that year, this area received far less of the gathered seed the subsequent two years. Thus, it is far less diverse than the 50 acres to the north and west. It would be Zone 1 on the map below (the previous discussion was primarily on Zones 2 and 3).

The dilemma here is twofold. First, do I want to spend the time and money to augment the 30 species found on this area? Second, do I want to do something to control/thin out the ubiquitous Canada thistle patches that cover much of this (the mowing shown in the picture above was primarily to keep thistles from going to seed). The two topics are deeply intertwined because most of the thistles are not in thick, discrete patches, but scattered generously throughout the zone, so management of thistles with herbicide inevitably affects the forbs. At present the thistles aren’t impeding growth of the native species that were planted, but they are very competitive and may do so in the future. I do not expect to be concerned with management of thistles down the road, because at some point the restoration has to stand on its own, but at present it is still in its formative stage and I want to give it the best chance to develop. I have been tempted to broadcast spray the 30 acres with Milestone herbicide, accept that it will diminish the forb composition, and then topdress reinforcements. After reflection I have put that idea to the side and have done an experiment. Last fall I spent 4-6 hours laboriously spot treating the west couple acres on Zone 1 with herbicide. My best guess is that less than 5% of the ground actually got herbicide, meaning I had very little impact on existing forbs, but that perhaps 70-80% of the thistles got herbicide, hopefully significantly thinning the stand. Next spring I will get to evaluate the experiment, decide whether it is a good time to topdress a more diverse mix of seed over this area, and also to decide whether it is worth continuing the practice on more of Zone 1. My hope had been to do 4-5 acres but aspirations are sometimes no more than aspirations. It’s difficult to bring all your hopes to fruition.

Another symbol of progress this year was all the new species that I found in the restoration, both expected and surprising (I will list them in a bit). What follows is an incomplete pictorial compilation, but indicative of the variety I saw.

The common thread here is simple. It should not be surprising to find new species or to find existing species in new areas. The standard reply to this occurring is that many prairie species will be quite small and hard to find for a prolonged period of time while they develop a crown, a deep root system and carbohydrate reserves sufficient to justify reproductive expenses, at which time they become more visible, though they may already be several years old. Most species also can have a portion of their seeds which have a prolonged dormancy, sometimes many years, before they germinate and grow. It can also be true that there could be new seed being transported from adjacent prairies or other areas of the restoration. The last reason is certainly true for both the yellow sundrops and the panicled aster which I did not spread, at least not knowingly. Conversely, I have no bottle gentians in my relict prairie, and the nearest that I know of are a couple miles away, so these obviously came from seed spread four years ago; they have just been patiently hiding until now. And the larkspur and the prairie sandreed could be from either source, because I spread new seed (a little larkspur and a fair amount of sandreed), and they also occur in the adjacent pasture (once more, a little larkspur and a fair amount of sandreed). My best count is that I have now found 124 native prairie species in the restoration, primarily in Zones 2 and 3. I have likely lost half a dozen of that number that I saw 2-4 years ago and not since, though I had a small epiphany last summer regarding jumping to conclusions as evidenced below:

I had seen a couple flat topped asters 3 years ago on one the gravel hills. The species is not adapted to xeric sites, however, so I wasn’t surprised when I did not see it the past two years. Then, late this summer I found several blooming near the drainage that cuts across the restoration, an appropriately moist site for flat topped aster. In the Midwest it is noted as a “facultative wetland” species, meaning that it doesn’t require soggy feet, but neither does it mind wet toes. This is another species that I have not found in my prairies, and the restoration is on the western border of flat topped aster’s range, but there could easily be other examples within a few miles, and I am happy to have found some. Maybe there will be other revelations in 2023.

Here is the list of new species found in the restoration in 2022:

1. Needle and thread (Heterostipa comata)
2. Virginia wildrye (Elymus virginicus)
3. Prairie sandreed (Calamovilfa longifolia)
4. Tall/Prairie dropseed (Sporobolus heterolepis)
5. Prairie cordgrass (Spartina pectinata)
6. Flodman’s thistle (Cirsium flodmanii)
7. Bottle gentian (Gentiana andrewsii)
8. Ball/Pincushion cactus (Coryphantha vivipara) I transplanted about 10 that cows had dislodged in the adjacent pasture and some appear to have survived.
9. Standing/Prairie milkvetch (Astragalus adsurgens)
10. Joe Pye weed (Eutrochium maculatum)
11. Panicled aster (Symphyotricum lanceolatum)
12. Prairie blazing star (Liatris pynostachya)
13. Northern plains/Meadow blazing star (Liatris ligustylis)
14. Harebell (Campanula rotundifolia)
15. Yellow avens (Geum aleppicum)
16. Early figwort (Scrophularia lanceolata)
17. Green milkweed (Asclepias viridiflora) This and the other milkweeds are from transplants that were surplus from a graduate project of Grace Villmoe, who works with Dr. Lora Perkins at South Dakota State University (SDSU) and I think some of each species survived.
18. Slim leafed milkweed (Asclepias stenophylla)
19. Plains milkweed (Asclepias pumila)
20. Showy milkweed (Asclepias speciosa)
21. Spotted bee balm (Monarda punctata)

A new activity I engaged in this year, and one which I hope to continue in 2023 and beyond, is augmenting populations of selected species with transplants of seedlings that have been grown offsite over the winter/spring. I transplanted 250-300 plugs in mid to late May this year. They had been grown in greenhouse space at SDSU by staff working with my friend, Dr. Perkins. Other than some transplants of the four species of milkweed listed above, the seedlings were grown from seed gathered by me on my prairies. They would have been better off had they been transplanted several weeks earlier to allow for more rooting before hot weather occurred, but health issues didn’t allow that to happen. When I evaluated them during the first week of June, a couple weeks after planting, I estimated 70-75% survival, a success rate I would have been very happy with. However, a very hot and windy three day spell just after that evaluation dropped survival to 25-30% Would 2-3 weeks longer in the ground have provided enough roots to keep more alive? It’s impossible to know, but is likely, and the lessons that I learned will be implemented next spring with several hundred more seedlings. We will see what we can accomplish. Subsequently, I received a couple hundred left over seedlings of several species from another graduate project at SDSU and planted as many as I could in October with the hope that they will overwinter and begin growth next spring.

The final activity of my year was the seeding on the 20 acres in the northeast corner of the quarter, labeled “still farmed” on the map above. I recently did an entire post on that so won’t dwell on it, but will just mention that with that final piece in place the entire quarter was accepted by the U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service for a grassland easement, a topic that is likely to get its own blog post in the future. This will be a perpetual easement, meaning the restoration will have a chance to “live long and prosper”, a phrase that I think is a fine coda to this post, as I hope the same thing for myself and for anyone who reads this. Happy New Year!

Additions from 2023:

1. Culvers root (Veronicastrum virginicum) Late last summer I saw a tall wildflower from a distance and was amazed when it turned out to be a 4′ tall culvers root. As far as I know I did not plant any, and there are no native examples for close to 100 miles (though there is always the chance there are a few nearby that have never been documented). Most likely it was a hitchhiker in some purchased seed that I spread. One plant of any species will certainly die out, so I am trying to decide whether to add more or just let nature take its course.
2. Western snowberry, Buckbrush or Wolfberry(Syymphoricarpus occidentalis) Wolfberry is a common shrub of the area, with colonies (it is rhizomatous) in every native pasture, often many thick colonies in overgrazed pastures. It is likely called buckbrush because the big deer use it for sleeping and hiding in during the day, but my memories are of searching through patches looking for calves whose mothers had stashed them there while off grazing. I have a clear memory of spooking a 1-2 day old calf out of a patch, which immediately sprinted in the opposite direction through a barbed wire fence. I remember my father was quite upset with me, as I don’t think we ever found it.
3. False indigo (Amorpha fruticosa, though there is a possibility it is a close relative, A. nana) Like the snowberry, this is a small native shrub that found its own way into the restoration from adjacent native pasture.
4. Sand sage, or Field sage (Artemisia campestris) These are common on the site, but I had neglected to mention them in the past as they are a somewhat weedy biennial.
5. Field gumweed (Grindelia squarrosa) Another biennial weedy native I have decided to list. Unlike the sand sage which is ubiquitous in my better prairies, gumweed is more clearly a weed which infests overgrazed pastures. only a few in the restoration.
6. Showy goldenrod (Solidago speciosa) A close relative of Canada goldenrod that can hybridize with it, but I think that I have identified some. These tall, aggressive goldenrods are the bane of restoration practitioners in true tall grass prairie restorations farther east, but are a welcome addition as pollinator candy in my harsher environment.
7. Oval leaved milkweed (Asclepias ovalifolia) Transplanted from Dave Ode seed out by Pierre last summer.
8. Unknown milkvetch (Astragalus sp.) This is an addition from old seed that my friend Dr. Arvid Boe had gathered in western SD some years ago. It was mislabeled and of uncertain identity .

Fun in the Cold, November 2022

The latest addition to the Narem prairie restoration family is now seeded and put to bed for the winter. The Day County Conservation District came the first week of November and seeded the 20 acres with their Truax drill, using a mix of about 20 species I’d worked out with the Pheasants Forever employee who helps with seeding plans. Because of my experience and history at this they tend to follow my lead and work with me to get a mix that I want. Once the “official” mix of seed that has germination and purity tests went in I then began to augment the base mix with the hodgepodge of stuff that I have gathered and bought.

Here’s what one afternoon looked like. My friend Roger, a retired soil scientist, drove up from Brookings and we hand spread about 12-14 acres of the restoration with most of what is in the picture. Though we were dressed for worse, the weather turned out to be reasonable for November 20, with sun and just a moderate breeze to go along with the 25 degree temperature. We got a lot done, and with the dusting of snow it was very easy to see our tracks and the seed on the snow, so seed coverage was decent. Because the drill had already covered every acre completely there was no need for Roger and me to attempt 100% coverage. I would mix up each batch and divide it between two five-gallon pails a little over half full. With that we would cover about 1.5-2 acres. Thus, I could adjust the blend to match the soil type every couple acres. The gathered seed we spread was mostly forbs/wildflowers which I blended with some native grass seed I had purchased to help get a more even mix. I had spread 3-4 acres a couple days before and finished the last 3-4 acres a couple days later.

There are several species whose seed doesn’t “play nice” and can’t really be blended with the main seed mix. They wad up into balls that defy mixing and demand concentrated attention on them , picking out a few seeds at a time to spread – not an efficient way to get the seeding done, but the only way if I am going to have those plants in the restoration. One of these species is porcupine grass (Stipa spartea).

Take a look at this mess. I wrote about this several years ago and I believe I referred to a lump like this one as a “ball of spiny hell”. I haven’t changed my mind. Somehow they self organize as they shift in the container they rest in, perhaps induced by bouncing down rough section line trails. I don’t know how it’s done, but it’s pretty freakin impressive. To the right you see all the awns wound into a tight circle while the weapons, the spears, all point to the outside, like a phalanx of Greek soldiers under Alexander the Great about to do battle with the Persians.

I tossed out three pails of the porcupine grass, 5-10 seeds at a time, on all the mesic soils in the new restoration, plus a few acres of the old restoration which are without that species. That leaves about three more pails of seed. I am saving most of that for an attempt to augment the population in the original 100 acre restoration after the spring burn we hope to accomplish next spring. There is an area of about three acres of mesic soils in the 100 acre patch that has less diversity than the poorer soils (30-40 species rather than 80-100), and I am going to experiment on those acres to see if I can get some new stuff to germinate after a burn takes off the residue. I plan to purchase some mesic forbs to go with some that I have held back from spreading this fall, as well as some of the porcupine grass, stratify the seed in some vermiculite or sand in the garage at our place in the Cities, and then spread the seed, now with dormancy overcome and ready to germinate after the burn. If there is still too much residue interfering with seed to soil contact I may hire the neighbor to roll the area with a packing roller that all farmers have nowadays, to get the seed down to the ground. The big flaw in this plan is that there may be no free seats at the table for the new seed even after the burn. The root coverage of the various grasses and forbs, and their subsequent regrowth after the fire may mean that very few seeds get to germinate or new plants to establish. Thats why it’s called an experiment.

The other half of the experiment is to see what the burn does to the wormwood sage (Artemisia absinthium), an introduced sage that is the second most vexing weed in my restoration after Canada thistle. I have no hope that the burn will kill the sage, but wormwood starts growth very early, and I hope that burning off the new growth weakens the plants. The experiment area has perhaps the thickest stand of wormwood on the restoration, and at the very least, it will set the stage for me to use the gun on my ATV sprayer to do a very targeted job of spot treating, which will impact very few of the seeds that I spread, and very few of existing desirable forbs. A plan to do something similar went to hell last year because of health problems I experienced, but perhaps I will have better luck next spring.

In addition to the porcupine grass I spread several gallons of needle and thread grass (Heterostipa comata), a close relative of porcupine grass which also tends to ball up in an amorphous mass which demands patience to pull small groups of seeds with their twisting awns to spread. This was the first year that I was able to gather needle and thread, so I felt this was a great opportunity. Needle and thread is adapted to xeric sites, so I scattered their seed across the hilltops. I did the same with the pasqueflower (Anemone patens) that I had gathered and some locally sourced prairie smoke (Geum triflorum) that I purchased. I found an interesting new way to spread those two species. I wadded a combination of the two (they live in the same droughty sites) into a ball and repeatedly rubbed the ball against the rawhide strip in the palm of my leather glove. Seeds kept rubbing off and would drift away on the ever-present breeze of November. I did that on the xeric acres of the new restoration, some similar sites nearby on the 100 acre restoration and on the restoration a half mile away that had been seeded two years before. This had been a good year for gathering pasque seed, and I had enough to cover the hills on 50-60 acres.

In the end, after a tough start, it was a good and satisfying finish to the year. It had been an excellent year to gather 15-20 species that aren’t always available, and I had been able to get them out on the land where they can become contributors to the prairie. In addition, I saved back some seed of about twenty wildflowers to attempt to grow seedling plugs next spring that I can replant into the restoration. I even had visions of going out one more time to toss out a few odds and ends that have not been spread, but we are likely to get a good winter storm in a couple days which will end that illusory hope. And I end with a self-portrait of a silly old man (me) out spreading seed on November 29, on a day the temperature was 25 degrees (not bad) but the wind was 30 mph (colder than snot). I wrote a post a couple months ago with a title that began: “The fall of my dreams”. I don’t know if I accomplished that, but it was a damn good fall for a 67-year-old with my health challenges. I am very content.

Going Deep in the Weeds on Gathered Seed

Here is the second part of my digressions on seed gathering. The first, “Getting Serious About Seed Gathering” was published a couple weeks ago.

There are several undercurrents of ideas regarding the use of “locally adapted” seed, and the strategy of gathering that seed from existing native vegetation to accomplish this. The ideas center around the concept of genotypes, sub-populations of species that share combinations of genes (and thus traits). In effect, a genotype is a derivative of the idea of the species, dividing species into smaller and smaller increments. The core concept of the species is a group of organisms which can breed and have viable and fertile progeny. That definition is much more difficult and messy than it sounds, but even without introducing the myriad exceptions to the rule (and absolutely needing to ignore micro-organisms) there is the stumbling block that, while populations of plants and animals may breed true, that doesn’t mean that they are interchangeable. Many of the species that I find in my prairies have ranges that encompass much of the continent, and occasionally are even found in Eurasia. Genetic differences develop in different geographies. A personal example which brought this fact home occurred when I seeded the original restoration in 2018. The blanketflower seed that I purchased turned out to be grown in Colorado, and looks very different from the blanketflower that is found in my relict prairies. It is not as winterhardy as the plants native to my prairies, and starts blooming earlier than my native plants. While some are still alive, their eventual demise seems certain. Clearly there are genetic differences which make it less suited to a long, productive life on my restoration; thus, even without any deeper knowledge of its genome, I feel safe in calling it a different genotype. This was clearly not locally adapted seed.

It is fair to ask, then, what implications this has for the stability and longevity of my restorations. One of my stated and explicit goals for the restorations is enhanced populations and spread of the prairie plants that have been able to survive on these gravelly, godforsaken hills my grandfather purchased well over a hundred years ago, my local genotypes. Have I already shot myself in the foot, or whatever old metaphor you like for describing ineptitude? Well, I admit that I would really like to have known everything that I know now when I began this process, and had not purchased blanketflower which originated in Colorado. Why didn’t I just use seed from my relict prairies?

First, as I wrote about in the last post, it is very difficult to gather enough seed for a complete restoration. Relict prairies with sufficient seed to gather are not a dime a dozen. I have gathered as much of my blanketflower as I have been able and has seemed prudent, but it has only made a small contribution to the restoration. That is one reason that I want so badly to expand the reach of my genetics. Second, adding new homes for my local species is only one of the purposes of the restorations. There is a whole panoply of ecosystem services that I hope my farm can deliver, and I need more seed than I can gather to accomplish the other goals of carbon sequestration, food for pollinators, wildlife habitat, water quality enhancement, etc. Thus, the question isn’t really whether I will add more seed than I can gather; rather it is how to get the most out of the seed that I do gather, and how to purchase seed that can further all my goals. Before I return to the idea of the value of my gathered seed, I will delve into its limitations and potential weaknesses

First, imagine what the prairies looked like 175 years ago, before the plow found the prairies. There was an expanse of grassland that extended over 1000 miles from north to south, and perhaps 400-600 miles from east to west. Individual prairie species rarely inhabited this entire geography, but many covered hundreds of thousands of square miles. If a species inhabited even 100,000 square miles and occurred an average of only 1 plant per acre, that would still give a population of 64,000,000 plants of that species. Many species likely had populations in the billions. On a local level, if an event occurred that extirpated that species in an area, there was an almost limitless ability of the surrounding landscape to resupply seed to recolonize. If an ice age began or ended, there was a path for each species to follow the climate north or south, east or west, to find its niche; to literally put down roots. Because of the number of plants of each species that were reproducing in an area there was also almost unlimited opportunity for each species to accumulate genetic mutations, weed out deleterious changes and, in effect, create a storehouse of possibilities in the genomic bank that was available for future use. In evolutionary terms they were increasing their “fitness”, the ability of their descendants to thrive and reproduce. Unfortunately, times have changed.

Now, on my land, I have a substantial amount of the diversity of species one would hope for in this area, but the number of plants available to provide that depth of genetic possibility is greatly diminished. The conversion of prairies to cropped acres, overgrazing and herbicide use on remaining native pastures and the insidious spread of smooth brome have all impoverished the genetic storehouse. Not only are there far fewer plants of each species creating new genetic possibilities with mutations and crossbreeding, but even the bank of genes that remains diminishes as the plants come and go. Mutations regularly occur that have no immediate positive nor negative effect and thus can quietly creep into the metagenome of a species. However if there is no positive selection pressure which insures that plants with those mutations survive, and there are only a few plants of that species in a geographic area, pure chance will mean those mutations, those traits and potential traits, will often disappear. In a large, robust population pure chance will more often leave some individuals with that mutation reproducing. Later, when that gene becomes important because of a change in conditions, it is available to allow that species to thrive even while challenged by a new disease, insect, or a change in climate. To fully explain the process, called genetic drift, would take examples and perhaps graphics, but in short, more is better, and a lot more is a lot better. A larger population will provide more genetic possibilities to respond to the inevitable challenges to survival.

Here’s an example I have been thinking about lately. There are perhaps 30 plants of standing milkvetch (Astragalus adsurgens) on my prairies, and I don’t know how far one would have to go to find the next example, perhaps several miles. It will only take a very small bit of bad luck to lose the entire population, and genetic drift is likely diminishing the variability of the groups’ collective genome, leading to inbreeding. If I want to save my local population steps will have to be taken. Without help this local population is likely to eventually perish. What is my response to this?

A good starting point is trying to gather the seed from my prairies and other nearby prairies, giving me the confidence that the seed that I plant is adapted to the climate and soils of the adjacent restoration, and to use that seed to establish a lot more plants. However, as discussed earlier, the amount that I can gather is insufficient and perhaps impoverished genetically to respond to challenges going forward. Simply increasing the number of reproducing plants, providing a larger number to create new mutations, new genes, is a big deal. Turning 30 standing milkvetch plants into 300 is a big deal. That’s still not many plants, however, and again, it’s derived from a very narrow genetic base, likely with low diversity of genetic possibilities. Thus, while increasing the number of plants with obviously adapted genetics is great, I feel that I need to do more. I feel a need exists to import some new genetics to add to my burgeoning population.

The question now becomes: From where? How do I best accomplish this genetic enrichment? For some species I have the obvious choice of gathering seed from the prairies owned by friends. Most notably, we have several native pastures in my wife’s grazing unit, Whetstone Grazing, 30 miles east of the restoration. This is a more mesic site than my restoration, and at 800’ lower in elevation it will provide genetics adapted to a little warmer and wetter climate, just what we are likely to get over the next hundred years. Near the Whetstone Grazing pastures is a small prairie owned by my best friend, on a dry mesic site, and he has kindly allowed me to gather seed there the past several years. There are a couple other corners that I get to gather on, and these have been my main sources along with the relict prairies adjacent to the restoration. They have been a good source of 40-50 species, but that leaves 40-50 species for which I would like to find additional genetics, including the standing milkvetch.

Which brings me back to purchasing seed. Many of those 40-50 species are sold by native seed vendors, and now that I am a more informed shopper, I can try to buy more seed that I have the ability to gain some knowledge about, to ascertain the source. I am doing that with Milborn Seeds in Brookings, my main supplier, and will begin communicating with Prairie Moon Seeds in southeast Minnesota, my secondary source. I have come late to this knowledge, as I am almost past adding seed to my first 100 acres of restoration, but am trying to do a better job on the last couple patches, the last 40 acres., and on any future restorations that I contribute to.

And now to circle back, going back to the title of the piece, the great worth of the gathered seed is that it has a base of adapted genetics which might not be available in the marketplace. I know for certain that the seed from my relict prairies is going to have the ability to grow in my soils and the present climate of my site. In that sense it is almost priceless and irreplaceable, and all my hours of wandering and gathering is priceless as well. I might only gather $50-100 worth of seed in a session, if measured as retail price of that species from a seed vendor, but I feel it could be worth many times that to me as the beating heart of the restoration. That is not to denigrate the purchased seed, for even poorly adapted purchased seed, such as my stupid Colorado blanketflower, may have genes that are valuable and can enter the gene pool through cross pollination. There is a concern I have read that poorly adapted genetics will weaken the population of the local plants, but I doubt that is likely. Deleterious crosses will lose out, and will be destroyed in the meat grinder of evolutionary pressure. Good riddance to bad garbage. Traits and crosses that add to evolutionary fitness will thrive and increase, sending their progeny down the generations to the future. I know that sounds like a hopelessly optimistic view of the brutally efficient process of evolution, but the logic is really pretty direct. Occam’s razor says the simple, direct explanation is most likely to be the correct explanation, and I think this is it: Evolutionary processes, survival of the fittest, will sort out the genetics that can survive and reproduce at my site, and that genotype with maximum fitness may change as time goes on. Efficient working of that process will depend upon the base of the adapted genetics from gathered seed, a large population that allows a multitude of mutations and crosses to occur, and additions of new genetics, outbreeding if you will, to provide a deep bench of traits which will provide resilience down the years.

And it depends upon time, a lot of time. I have stated in several posts that I am playing the long game here, and I am presently waiting for an offer from the US Fish and Wildlife Service for a perpetual easement on about 200 acres of restoration and pasture which will guarantee the time for this to become a real prairie. It is often said that once prairie is plowed up it will not return, and even the best restoration is but a pale imitation of the glory of the real thing. Baloney! People who believe that are correct if their time scale is ten or twenty years. Twelve thousand years ago the glaciers were melting away and we didn’t even have a prairie until perhaps 8000-9000 years ago. Somewhere in that span of time a dynamic prairie developed, and changed with time and the management of the indigenous people who lived there. Patience is required. If my descendants care to look at and walk in the restoration in three or four hundred years my bet is that they will find a functioning ecosystem. I can’t say what that will look like, and I certainly can’t say what the climate will be. However, I expect that the restorations will be whatever native prairie has become in South Dakota in the 23rd century. And with that I humbly bow, and submit to the unknowns of the future with a smile and a wave.

Postscript: I recently received an offer from the US Fish and Wildlife service to accept a permanent easement on 140 acres of the restorations and I immediately accepted the offer. The restorations will have their time to develop. Maybe my descendants really will get to see what happens.

Getting Serious About Seed Gathering

This is a post that I wrote a couple months ago, and then forgot about before it got published. Thus, some of the temporal references are dated, but rather than rewrite the post I would like you to pretend that it is September 1. With that awkward introduction out of the way, here’s the post, which I plan to follow with a post delving back into the topic of “locally adapted seed”.

The last post discussed hopes and plans to increase availability of seed for restorations by growing some species for harvest, in effect agricultural fields of native seed. This is obviously dependent upon first gathering native selections to increase. Thus, I have decided to devote a post to a summary of seed gathering and some of the attendant issues, both practical and conceptual.

Over the past four years I have spent a lot of time in my relict prairies, as well as some owned by friends, gathering seed. I’m unable to spend long hours in the field, but an hour or two at a time 2-3 time a week over 15-20 weeks adds up. How much seed do I gather? Well, that becomes a complicated question dependent upon the target, the time of year and the quality of the area I am working in. Early in the year, meaning anytime before now, I often have one or two targets, and can spend my entire gathering session to get only a handful of a desired species. Yesterday I ended up gathering small amounts of six species, four of which are in the picture below. The other two went into a bag that is a catchall for any xeric adapted species, and I didn’t want to try to guess what amount was gathered yesterday to remove for the picture.

Doesn’t look like much for the work of an hour and a half, even if you add what was a big handful of blanket flower (Gaillardia aristata) and hairy goldenaster (Heterotheca villosa), the two species that went directly into the bag, but to me it’s more important than the paltry amount looks. I will return to that thought in my next post, but will backtrack to some bigger issues of seed gathering first.

There are two conjoined conundrums of conservation seed gathering: How to gather enough seed to make an impact on the restoration where the seed will be spread, and how to limit seed gathering to am amount which doesn’t impact long term viability of a species in the relict prairie. A proper balance between these two often competing goals is not always possible, but is rarely a large dilemma. The first goal is usually the larger problem. This spring I had prairie smoke (Geum triflorum) and pasqueflower (Anemone patens) blooming everywhere on both my restoration and the relict prairies. I assumed that I would be able to gather large amounts of both species.

Both these species bloom early and make seeds that stay attached to feathery plumes that waft in the wind. The window for gathering both is perhaps 7-10 days, after which the abscission layer is complete and they blow away. A seed that will blow away in the wind needs to be small and plants tend to make a lot of them, hoping some tiny percentage have an opportunity to continue their lineage. Add in the fact that they will not all mature at the same time and it is almost impossible to gather enough seed to worry about a detrimental impact to the population. The problem, rather, is timing an opportunity to get a useful amount. As it turned out, I had the opportunity to gather the pasque on what may have been the perfect day and have a nice amount of seed, perhaps 4-6 ounces. That is in a refrigerator waiting to be spread on the new restoration this fall. The prairie smoke matures 7-10 days later, and there were three consecutive days of 95-100 degree weather with high winds during that period which abruptly matured and then distributed the seed hither and yon. I may have gathered 10-15% of the pasque seed in my prairies, but doubt I got more than 1% of the prairie smoke, less than an ounce. I will either have to purchase some prairie smoke to supplement what I gathered, or rely upon better luck in gathering next year, no sure thing.

There are several other ways that plants make their seed hard to gather, such as shelling out immediately upon maturity, becoming nondescript brown entities which are almost impossible to find or by being eaten by animals and letting the animals distribute their seed Add in 35 cows with calves eating their way across the pastures to all the other native seed users, and quite a few seeds disappear right before I have the opportunity to pick them. Suffice to say, gathering sufficient seed from the relict prairies to supply the 20 acres of new restoration is a significant problem, and gathering enough seed of most species to impact populations in the relict prairies is less of a concern.

Here is another way to put it: over evolutionary time every species has developed a strategy that allows it to use its resources to maximize its “fitness”, which in short means its ability to send its genetics into another generation. One significant implication of this is that plants don’t really “waste” their resources to produce excess seeds. Over many generations plants of all the prairie species produced enough seed to maximize their chance to continue their genetic line and successfully procreate. Thus, even for species which make a great deal of seed I must assume some might find a new home and become new plants. Gathering a small fraction of their available seed of a species such as pasqueflower seems harmless, but it might mean a few less plants grow the next year. I can balance that fact out, however, with the high population that exists now in the relict prairie and the reasonable hope that I can turn that seed into a significant increase in population and range in the restoration. I have reason to hope that 10,000 seeds gathered that might have become 10 or 20 additional plants in the relict prairie can become 100 or 200 new plants in the restoration. The numbers are cheap speculation, but I think it is fair to assume that many more of the seeds will germinate and grow in a new area with a great deal of biotic space than in an existing prairie with very little. Thus, even though I am assuming I am impacting their natural reproduction in a small way, the more significant problem is not gathering too much seed, but how to access enough adapted seed of those species to augment my restorations.

There are a few species for which this is not true, however. They are more visible, they hold on to their seeds for a longer period of time, and populations in my prairies may be lower, scattered rather than ubiquitous. I will give two examples (out of perhaps 8-10 species where I face this dilemma) and describe how I view them.

The first is what to me is the flagship species of relict dry prairies in this area, black samson, aka narrow-leaved coneflower (Echinacea angustifolia).

If I see black samson in a pasture I know not just that it is a native prairie remnant, but that it has had very little herbicide. Depending upon the herbicide, one treatment is unlikely to eliminate black samson, but two or three treatments will. I have a large population in my prairies and have been fortunate enough to have gathered and spread enough seed upon my restoration that all the xeric to dry mesic areas have developed large populations as well. So where lies my dilemma, you may ask.

My assumption, based upon a few years of observation, is that black samson is a long lived species, and that gathering seed will not visibly affect the population for a long time. The hill above was in spectacular bloom in 2019 because of the combination of a spring burn and excellent summer rain.

After maturity the heads stay upright, holding on to their seeds for weeks, even months, before letting them fall in November or over winter. They are also extremely easy to see, even from a distance. It would be possible to harvest every seedhead. One of the goals of my restoration was to potentially expand habitat for the Dakota skipper butterfly (Hesperia dacotae), and black samson has been well documented as a preferred nectar source of the Dakota skipper. Thus, I have been determined to gather and spread as much as possible, and have exceeded 50% removal in many areas. Once again, it is ubiquitous across the prairie hills, and the literature mentions apocryphal stories about its longevity, leading one to believe that the population in my prairies can manage my theft in a good cause. I now have perhaps 70-80 acres in two different restorations with good populations of black samson, almost entirely from gathered seed.

My question now is whether I dare go to the well again to supply seed for my new 20 acre restoration project. I have found a source in the literature that found germinable seed, likely two or three years old, in the soil of a Kansas prairie. The authors speculated that black samson is a species which “seed banks”, storing up seed in the soil for germination after a disturbance event. In other words, the seed that I have gathered might not be important now, but could be in the future. The seed is maturing now, and I will begin gathering this week. I have not yet made a decision on how aggresive I will be gathering seed this year, but will do so soon. I am leaning towards holding gathering down around a third of the seedheads to allow the seedbank to build, and certainly gather no more than half. Then, next year, when I am not planning to do a new restoration, but may gather seed to topdress some areas of my existing restorations, I will only gather the heads that I find in the restored prairies and give the relict prairies a total rest.

The other example resides on the other end of the spectrum from black samson, being far less common. Standing milkvetch, or prairie milkvetch (Astragalus adsurgens) is an uncommon plant in my prairies, to the point where I know where most of the plants are, primarily on four or five hills on two of the prairies. I found the reason for this when the renters cattle broke through the crossfence in a pasture and grazed the hayland that I was planning to rest. The milkvetch is obviously “cow candy” and almost every plant was grazed right down into the dirt.

My assumption is that one year of premature grazing won’t be a serious problem for the plants which still likely have plenty of root reserves to grow next spring. Otherwise they would never have withstood the grazing of a herd of bison. I will have to be careful, however, not to allow this to happen repeatedly. The grazing, which occurred about a week before seed maturity, presented a dilemma regarding collection. I lost the plants which I had assumed would supply 80% of the seed I would gather. The adjacent pasture, ungrazed so far, has far fewer plants, only 12-15, and I needed to decide my collection strategy.

My strategy, perhaps a bit aggressive, was to gather 80 % of the seed on the plants that I had left. The goal was not to spread the seed this fall, as that method of seeding has so far only netted me one lonely plant in the 100 acre restoration. However, my new best friend, Dr. Lora Perkins at South Dakota State University (SDSU) will likely be able to turn that seed into a lot of seedlings which I can then replant in the new restoration as well as in the old restoration. Standing milkvetch is a a plant for which it is impossible to purchase seed from any vendors within 300 miles. Thus, I hope to begin a seed increase plot to provide seed for myself and hopefully other restorations that may occur in this area. The simple fact that it is unavailable means that there is likely to be difficulties in growing the seed. Otherwise I could probably find a vendor trying to make money on it. My other ace in the hole, besides Dr. Perkins, is another professor at SDSU, Dr. Arvid Boe, who has broad experience in working with native plants, and can hopefully educate me past some of the most obvious pitfalls. Then, if I have any success with the seedling plugs, and if I am successful in increasing seed production I can pay back my seed withdrawals with interest, planting seedlings and spreading seed back on my native prairie remnants.

That’s the plan, anyway, though it was also the plan this year. Several factors came together which interfered with the plan’s implementation and I hope to have better luck in 2023. One advantage I will have is starting early in building a team of people who are invested in making this work. Because of my health issues I am clearly the weak link in this plan and I hope to build in significant redundancy over the winter so it could move forward without my active participation.

As I stated earlier, standing milkvetch is only one of several species which are difficult to gather and also difficult to buy. I end with a picture of another, prairie larkspur (Delphinium virescens), which I discussed in a recent post. I didn’t get a lot of seed, but I hope to turn a small amount of seed into something significant in much the same manner as the standing milkvetch. Big hopes and dreams, but one has to start somewhere. As I also stated earlier, the value of my gathered native seed is, at least in my eyes, greater than what it seems; it is greater than an equivalent amount of purchased seed. That is the topic of the next post which will hopefully be published soon.

A Bouquet of September Surprises

The theme of this short post is one I have hit before. Life is on fire. Every day, no, every minute, is a new and precious thing., and you need to be out in the world to see life or you might miss it. For instance; Grooved yellow flax (Linum sulcatum) is an annual which only germinates and grows with appropriate early summer rain. Rain has been hard to come by in June the past several years, but I was fortunate enough to receive a couple rains in late June and early July this year, After three years where I saw very few flax blooms, this was what lay before me when I visited the prairie in mid-July. As soon as I crested the last hill before this prairie the vista was streaked with hills of pale yellow separating the deeper green valleys below.

Though there are obviously many flax plants to gather it is a frustrating process. the bouquet above is perhaps 250 plants picked while crawling over the hill on my hands and knees, and the end result is below in the small plastic bowl. Much of what is in the bowl is not seed, but the stems and hulls of the little flax bolls. Still, there are a lot of seeds there, and the little guys are very prolific when given an opportunity. Thus, I will try to use the best chance I have had in my five years of seed gathering and get back out to gather more. It obviously has a great ability to self seed and the seed has some longevity, so a little might go a long way.

There is a very clear pattern for many species to bloom and set seed in profusion one year, and then take a year or two off. For an annual like yellow flax the signal is pretty clearly the proper timing for rain. Yellow flax is a plant of dry country, and evolutionary forces have “taught” it to respond to the appropriate precipitation event. I don’t know if the stimulus is the same for my next example of a good reason to get out regularly to look around. Three weeks before I took the picture of the flax, about the same time I ended up in the hospital for dehydration, I drove up to the pasture that adjoins the prairie with the flax and saw this.

It’s not unusual to see a few cactus blooms on my hills, but I cannot remember them ever blooming in such profusion, with multiple blooms on many plants. What is even more unusual is to see so many of the blooms pollinate and produce fruit. Like many plants, cactus has more than one way to reproduce, though its method of clonal reproduction is unusual. When conditions are good it will make new balls, until there may be a group of 20 or 30 joined together in a cluster. Then, a disturbance such as a cow (or historically a buffalo) will dislodge some, which can then move to a new spot nearby to start a new cluster. I am propagating some in that manner in my restoration, having found a few which the cattle dislodged. That’s all well and good for me, but a cactus won’t move very far in this manner as no other animal will pick up one the spiny little bastards to move it. They will, however move the fruits, which have many seeds embedded in a jelly. When the fruits are ripe they dislodge very easily, so one can imagine them falling out where a mouse, gopher or ground squirrel would pick them up to take them back to consume in a safe spot, and the seed likely passes on through to germinate wherever they might defecate. I’m a lot bigger and uglier than the rodent, or perhaps rabbit, that is the normal partner, but I have several new gravel hills where we will see if we can establish colonies.

As always, I wonder how important an individual species is, and simply have to shrug my shoulders. I am trying to do a good thing here: environmentally, socially, economically and whatever other descriptive word that ends in “ally” you want to fill in; but ultimately I have to be humble enough to realize I don’t have answers to many of my questions and simply please myself. And it will please me greatly to find pincushion cactus in my restoration in the future. So it goes.

The final topic is one I give a lot of thought to. While I have stated that one of the most important outcomes of these restorations is to expand the populations and range of my native forbs, I spread seed of many species which I have never seen on my prairies. Below is a species I have never seen in any prairie around here, flat-topped aster. There was a discussion at a field day I attended recently where experienced conservation professionals were asking this of each other. To paraphrase: “I can buy this native species that really isn’t found near this site for 10% of the cost of the close relative that is. Am I wrong to do that? Or does accomplishing my goals for ecosystem services by getting a good population of the cheaper species outweigh the worries that I might be missing something?” I hope that gets the dilemma right. The consensus was that we simply don’t know what the right choice is, so go ahead and do something. Either choice is better than another corn or soybean field, or even a field of native grass without wildflowers. In my own restoration I have had the luxury of having my cake as well as eating it, and have often spent the money on the expensive species, as well as adding some species that are not found nearby. I generally went to the range maps, and if it was found within a county or two from mine would use it. Most prairies, even good relict prairies, likely have lost a lot of species from pre-settlement times, and it may have been here 125 years ago.

The “surprise” aspect of the flat-topped aster is that it is a mesic species and my site is mostly xeric. I found a couple plants two years ago on droughty soils and put them on my species list, but saw none last year. I assumed they may have succumbed to drought and I wasted my efforts by being careless where I spread them. This week I found several growing in appropriate sites near the drainage that runs through the restoration, and I was very pleased to see them.

The related question is the number of plants that are needed to create a population that can support the proper pollinator(s) and have enough genetic variability to avoid inbreeding effects. I don’t know the answer to that, though I am confident it is a lot more than the 4 or 5 that I saw. I will continue to think about that in the future with an eye towards perhaps augmenting the populations of some species attempting to cross the threshold to viability in the long term. For now, I am happy to have seen these.

With that I will close this post, and see what I find the next time I go to the restoration. October is a wonderful time to be alive!

The Autumn of My Dreams/the Winter of My Discontent

I couldn’t resist the literary allusion. Actually, Shakespeare said “the winter of our discontent”, but I will only comment upon my own foibles and concerns. We will be moving to the Twin Cities for the winter (probably the only two people on the planet who choose to winter in Minnesota) and I am trying to finish the field season strong, by being super productive over the next 6 weeks before the enforced inactivity of winter. There is a lot of triage to do as I decide which tasks are mandatory and which are optional. So far I am doing ok on my big seed collection project to be used on the new 20 acre restoration, though there’s too many days like yesterday, when I am at the restoration at 3:00 PM, with loads of daylight remaining, and my body tells me its time to go home. Yet even yesterday I drove out into the poorer part of the restoration to imagine a spring burn and found new treasures.

As I’ve mentioned before, there is a 20-25 acre area on the east side of the restoration that had to be broadcast sprayed with multiple herbicide applications for Canada thistle control. As there was almost no seed placed there by the Conservation District drill, and thus almost no forbs, the risk of damage from the herbicide was very small. The survey I did was both to evaluate grass composition to decide upon the if and when of a burn, and to see what forbs are sneaking in. What I saw wasn’t anything like the other 75 acres, but it was more than has been seen there in past years. That is partially due to the eventual germination and survival of a few seeds that slipped by the drill blockage that ruined the original seeding, partially due to some additional forb seed that I have spread over parts of the 25 acres and partially due to seed blowing in or being carried in by animals. All told, I saw about 15-20 forb species in various densities, including the bottle gentians, and perhaps the beginning on a plan for management. These now make 122 species found on the 100 acre restoration.

Grazing and haying are allowed on CRP, though rental payments of that year need to be foregone, and management plans submitted. Still, here’s the idea: I will try to get this burned in the spring of 2024. I already have a burn planned for 50 acres next spring, and am not eager to take on two large burns in the same year. In the meantime I have a two or three acre area within the 50 acres of 2023 burn that I want to augment forb diversity on and can use as a trial/experiment to inform what could be done on the 25 acres in 2024. After the burn I hope to add a seed mix of 15-20 species of wildflower and perhaps 2-3 new grass species. This mix will be of species adapted to the mesic site and will be mixed in a soil medium where it will have already received a cold stratification to overcome seed dormancy; in other words, I hope it is ready to germinate immediately. A lot depends upon the timing and the heat of the fire. If it is a good fire about the 25th of April, I hope that there will be some black ground showing with a bunch of fine soot. In that case I will rely upon the rain and gravity to put the seed into a good situation for germination. If a layer of partially burned thatch remains after the fire, I would try to hire the renter on my farmed ground to run either a drag or a packer over it to help seed get down to mineral soil. Then, ideally, I would try to get some grazing across it to hold down the existing grass competition as well as get some hoof action and some fertilizer. I doubt that I will get any grazing going on the 2-3 acres that I hope to do next spring, however, as it will not likely be practical for the renter who grazes my pastures to mess with such a small area. Hay can perhaps act as a grazing substitute, allowing a little solar radiation closer to ground level. However, in 2024, perhaps we can get some grazing across the 25 acres that will be burned that spring.

How does this all relate to the title, specifically the first half, “The Autumn of My Dreams.”? It has been a very good September for me so far. I have been able to get up to the prairies and the restoration about three days a week, and am shooting for four. The end gate of my field season will likely be when I fly to California November 10 to visit my daughter Diane and her husband Ebi. Yesterday I had the joy of finding two new species in the restoration. Tomorrow I hope to go to my wife’s grazing system and gather seed. As much as she respects what I am doing in my restoration work she is starting to roll her eyes when I say I’m going to collect seed there: “Again, my dear? There are other tasks that are valuable.” are what her eyes, actions and body language communicate, though she rarely says anything. Collecting seed at Whetstone, her grazing system, provides a variety of genotypes that are likely different from the genotypes in the relict prairies on my home farm, and potentially valuable to the restoration. It also validates and recognizes the good work that Linda has done to improve the pastures under her care. There is plenty of seed to gather and it never hurts to score points with your spouse.

In addition to the tasks of observation and seed gathering I have also been honored to have a couple groups tour my project and to give me some input. First, back in August, a group came from the USDA Plant Materials Center in Bismarck. Their work is developing varieties of various plants of the region, primarily native, that could be used in various sorts of conservation and production settings. During our conversation I learned that , together with Dr. Arvid Boe at South Dakota State University, they were collecting samples of plains muhly (Muhlenbergia cuspidata), a western grass that I have in my gravel hills. The goal is to compare selections for a potential release of a plains muhly variety. The next day I went out and got a couple samples and took them to Arvid, who is growing them. Thus, there is a chance that a genotype from my humble hills will become part of a released variety selection. This was also an opportunity for their staff to see one of the results of their work, their seed used in a prairie restoration. Forming an intuitive understanding of the daily work that you do can be helped by seeing positive results coming from that work.

Then, two weeks ago, I hosted the second annual Field Day for Conservation Professionals at the restoration. There were a couple last minute cancellations as often happens, but 12 people showed up to join Linda and I for a walk, discussion and lunch. For several of the attendees it was their first visit to the restoration. While some had to leave right after grabbing a quick lunch, many stuck around to continue the conversation well into the afternoon. The give and take that can occur in a field situation is silver and gold as learning currency, and clearly fits under the aspiration inherent in the title. This was the sort of thing I do dream to accomplish, to have a site that can educate, and hopefully inspire the conservation professionals of the region. And I, of course, learned a great deal. This is a selfish world, after all, and I do not apologize for considering my hopes in the plan.

And that finally brings us to the second half of the title, which I hope is not truly descriptive of my impending winter. I have no idea what it will be like to live in a city for four months. I am sure that the time will be cut into smaller blocks by trips to visit my daughters, and by trips back to the farm to feed horses and to check on things. Still, I anticipate periods of boredom and ennui. One of the many great lines I have borrowed from the author, Douglas Adams, is “the long, dark teatime of the soul”. What do you do when you have taken all the baths one can reasonably take, and are oppressed by the thought of trying to figure out one more clue in the Sunday crossword? My goal is to avoid that trap and to have a balance of activities to supplement the house repair/improvement projects I will assist on, which will keep me from falling into the morass Mr. Adams refers to. I have ideas, and we will see how creative I can be. This will be helped tremendously by the park with multiple walking trails which is only a half block away and several conservation organizations which have their offices nearby in St. Paul.

But before then I plan to have a glorious fall, an autumn for the ages. There have already been many rewarding moments, but perhaps the best was getting to go out collecting seed with my girlfriend. Linda and I spent an hour or two gathering grass seed, identifying plants. looking for her patches of meadowsweet (Spiraea alba) along the edges of the sloughs to gather seed from, and discussing the biological theory behind the advantages and disadvantages of different seed sources. Linda can nerd out on this stuff just as well as I can and fights for her viewpoint with vigor and panache. That sort of discussion is very good for me. I was walking along behind her on this beautiful early fall day and a paraphrase of another Douglas Adams line came to mind: “Sometimes one gets so overwhelmed by the beauty in the world and the oneness of life that the only response is to pop round the corner to the pub for a quick glass of perspective and soda.” That was how I felt. And after we finished our jaunt on the prairie we went to the lake cabin nearby, now owned by my nephew, and had that libation with my brother and sister in law who were visiting. Discontent is inevitable sometimes, but I will valiantly hold it at bay and enjoy the next few weeks.

The Great (I Hope) Seed Project

This is a fleshing out of some of the thoughts from a previous post: “Not All Plants Are Created Equal”. giving some specific examples of what I hope to begin. But first, a little background. The genesis for the thesis I will explore here occurred when I originally began trying to purchase seed for the restoration in 2017. I went to the local purveyor, Milborn Seeds in Brookings, South Dakota, 80 miles south of here and started a dialogue with their native seeds specialist, Jason. He was somewhat bemused by some of my questions, but Jason is a good fellow trying to do the right thing by his customers, and patiently waded through my requests. At the end of it all, he told me what species they had, what he might be able to access and that what I was interested in was going to be very expensive. I specifically remember asking about textile onion, a common component of the gravel hilltops in my prairies, and his reply that he had no experience with it and that I should look to other seed sellers. I did, and the result was a big fat zero. There seemed to be no way I could buy any textile onion seed. Similar discussions on other species had similar results; I was asking for seeds for which there obviously wasn’t enough market to induce a business like Milborn’s to grow or have access to them. The answer seemed to be simple: I would gather the seed.

Life is really never that simple, though. In the container in the top picture is perhaps an ounce of textile onion seed, about 10-12,000 seeds. I may be able to get a few more, but I have already hit the best areas, and much of the seed is already shelling out. This year’s picking has provided far more seed than was gathered over the last four years put together. Like many prairie species. textile onion doesn’t always produce a lot of seed. Last year, in a spring drought, I hardly saw one bloom. That is one reason that I am trying so hard to gather a good quantity right now. This is an opportunity I may not get again for several years. While 10-12,000 seeds sounds like a large quantity, this is not all germinable seed. Perhaps 6-8,000 might be considered pure, live seed (PLS). Textile onion doesn’t grow everywhere; it is only competitive on my very worst soils, of which I have about 10 acres in my restoration. That comes out to 600-800/acre, or one seed for every 60-80 square feet. On those soils I should really be seeding at least one seed every square foot if I hope to establish a population. There lies the conundrum. How does one get enough seed to do a good job?

I hadn’t really worried too much about such issues in the first couple years of gathering. There were big crops of many species, and I had many concerns trying to get ground cover on areas of the restoration that had not received sufficient seed during the first seeding by the Conservation District. 2020 and 2021 were both far more difficult years to gather seed than the previous two years, however. Spring and early summer were dry and warm both years, and rains in August were too late to induce cautious prairie plants to flower and produce seed. I was able to get out to prairies owned by a couple friends to supplement what I gathered on mine, but I could see that this was a very significant barrier to scaling up prairie restoration in this neck of the woods. This year has had a good start for seed production, but a hot, dry stretch in June has me wondering whether I will be able to gather significant amounts to spread on the 20 acres that I plan to seed this fall.

Following are pictures of three species that I am interested in. Though I have found two of them in the restoration, populations are very low. The characteristic they all share is scattered small populations across my native remnants, which makes it impossible to gather enough seed to significantly enhance my restored prairies. I hope to gather a little this year, though the larkspur has already responded to the hot, dry June by disappearing in many places. Larkspur will literally kill the top growth to preserve rootstock, something very interesting to see. Obviously the tradeoff of continued photosynthesis versus food going to seed production has been taken into account in evolutionary terms and the plant will simply hunker down and wait for another year’s opportunity to make seed.

Though I hesitate to gather any seed from such a reluctant seed producer I will likely gather a little from the remaining blooms, with the plan to engage in off site increase, which I will come to later.

The pretty little cactus below is another example of a plant that I have never gathered any seed from. Cactus are scattered across most of the xeric hills, on the south and west facing slopes. They inhabit at most four or five acres across 80 acres of remnant prairie, but seem to be slowly increasing in population. They aren’t quite as picky as the larkspur, but would still be considered a sporadic bloomer, with almost no blooms the past two years. This year, induced by the early spring rains, or perhaps by the carbohydrate reserves they had built up over the past two years, they are blooming profusely, allowing me to find a couple small populations that I was unaware of. At one point I was considering separating off a few balls to replant in my restoration, but I think that instead I will try to gather some seed this summer, once again to increase rather than to seed directly in my restoration.

My third example Is one I discussed a bit in a previous post, standing milkvetch, a legume that is scattered through the hills in my prairies. I have gathered bits of seed from my plants in previous years, but have not ever been able to gather enough to add a significant amount to the mixes I have spread, and was very pleasantly surprised to find one in the restoration.

These are just three examples that are on my mind because they are blooming right now. There are probably 20-30 other species that all share some subset of a group of characteristics to make it difficult to add to my restorations centered on the inability to gather enough seed, and the inability to purchase enough seed to supplement what I gather. This now begs the question, “What am I going to do about it?” Or to turn the question around, “How can I magnify the effect of the few seeds that I am able to gather?”

First, as I stated in the earlier post, I have had Dr. Lora Perkins at South Dakota State University (SDSU) grow some seedling plugs for me to transplant. In total, I planted about 350 seedlings of 10-11 species, mostly during the first ten days of June. The month which just ended, was 3-4 degrees above average in temperature, and the driest June since 1988. Included was a three day stretch of 95-100 degree days with 30-40 mph winds to completely dessicate the poor little seedlings. I am afraid very few will live. However, if any at all live it will be a testament to the concept. I am very interested in doing this again next year with a carefully chosen group of species, but will try to get them transplanted earlier when there is less chance of hot, dry weather.

Ultimately, though I am not going to be able to transplant enough seedlings to make up for the lack of seed. The reasonable alternative is to use some of the seed that I have gathered to begin prairie restoration seed fields. Those fields are not going to be established and managed by me; I have my labor all booked in caring for my restorations. Thus, the question is how best to access the resources to augment my initial efforts and produce a significant amount of seed. Possibilities abound, but no resource is cheap. Labor isn’t cheap; land isn’t cheap; facilities and tools aren’t cheap; and even my management and planning isn’t cheap. The money will have to come from somewhere, whether from my pocket, from donated labor and materials or from selling the seed. Do we consider starting a small non-profit corporation to use as a vehicle to apply for grants and to accept donations. I have run a for-profit business for forty years and hesitate to go down that path. I would rather try to find a way to create a business plan to monetize the seed production, including paying for the seed for my own restorations. While I have no illusions that I will make a profit from such a venture I hope to make it pay its way. I already have a C corporation that no longer has a consulting business at its core. Perhaps that’s the vehicle. If I find a partner to share this with it is a very quick and inexpensive process to start an LLC to be the business. I am not the only person or the only entity doing prairie restoration. Others will be interested in such seed. This will be a good winter project. In the meantime I will continue to gather seed and work toward having the conversations that always help clarify raw ideas. Next week I am hosting a small field tour of my restoration with some people who I hope to discuss this with, some staff from the NRCS Plant Materials Center in Bismark. I have also invited Dr. Perkins up form SDSU to join in the tour and discussion. If the conversation occurs and is fruitful I will probably write about it. Fun stuff.

Postscript: One day after I wrote this my prairies received 3.5″ of rain, an unexpected gift from the heavens. There will be a lot of seed to gather in a few weeks.

June Observations, 2022

After the abysmal spring we had we have abruptly leapt into summer. with temperatures likely over 100 tomorrow. Prior to the past week it had appeared that every prairie species was gearing up for maximum seed production, a reasonable choice reflecting abundant precipitation over the past 10 months. That may not continue to be true if the pendulum has swung, but my observations reflect the results of over 30 inches of precipitation since early August last year. At first glance the restoration looks very similar to last year. The changes seem subtle, but evolutionary changes become revolutionary changes with time. And changes there have been, mostly very heartening. Here’s an early attempt at a list; there is likely to be a more complete roundup with reflections on the year in November or December.

1. Lots more pasqueflowers (Anemone patens) though very few bloomed.
2. Lots more groundplums (Astragalus crassicarpus), perhaps 100 that I have seen so far, after seeing around 20 last year, and 2 or 3 in 2020.
3. More slender milkvetch (A. flexuosus), perhaps 20, rather than the 2 or 3 I saw last year.
4. First prairie milkvetch (A,. adsurgens) found last week.
5. Lots more prairie smoke (Geum triflorum), with most blooming and making seed.
6. Continued increase in black samson (Echinacea angustifolia). There are now thousands across the restoration, and I will likely gather seed from them this fall.
7. Even more slender penstemon (Penstemon gracilis) and white penstemon (P. albidus), with blooms everywhere you look.
8. Lots more leadplant (Amorpha canescens) visible, though most are still humble little plants.
9. Spectacular increase of stiff sunflower (Helianthus pauciflorus), with both more individual plants and colonies forming by rhizomatous growth.
10. Several small areas of meadow rue (Thalictrum dasycarpum) along the main draw, as compared to just seeing a couple plants last year.
11. First yellow sundrops (Calylophus serrulatus) found last week
12. Moderate increase in prairie violet (Viola pedatifida).
13. More American vetch (Vicia americana) blooming. It is possible they have been there, but are visible now that advancing maturity and lots of rain have induced them all to bloom. This is a species that is very cryptic if it doesn’t bloom.
14. Lots of porcupine grass sending out seedheads, perhaps enough to gather some seed. Still no needle and thread, though I remain hopeful.
15. Fewer alumroot (Heuchera richardsonii) made more obvious by the hundreds of flower stalks I see in the relict prairies.
16. Continued slow expansion of the bunchgrasses on the gravel hills.
17. Some decrease in several of the forbs that were purchased in the original seeding, and that are four years old now. This is an interesting topic to monitor to which I may return in a different post.
18. More areas, particularly in better soils, conversely are becoming thick patches of smooth brome (Bromus inermis) or Kentucky bluegrass (Poa pratensis). This is related to the last observation, and also will likely get discussed later.
19. The time I spent with my ATV doing spot treatment of herbicide on the worst thistle patches was well spent, but insufficient. I will be doing more areas this summer (I have already done a bit). I have a first draft of a post on this topic and likely will edit it and get it posted soon.

Still, the bulk of the changes were positive, and I think it is worth looking back again at seeding history to help explain. The entire 100 acres was seeded by the Day County Conservation District in the spring of 2018, but most of the seed ended up on less than half the acres, leaving large areas thin or bare. I gathered and bought a great deal of seed for the land that had missed out and spread almost a full seeding on about 50 acres, and a grass mix on 20 acres that was so overrun by Canada thistles that I knew I would have to use herbicide, only leaving the 30 acres that received a double seeding unspread. I still felt that more should be done, so I decided to attempt to gather as much native forb seed from my relict prairies as possible to spread the next fall. 2019 was a good year for gathering seed, with moderate temperatures and abundant rainfall. In addition, twenty acres of the prairie were burned, stimulating seed production enormously. Much of the pasque seed, the black samson, the penstemons, the leadplant, the porcupine grass and many other species that has been spread on the restoration, and that I am talking about now, was gathered that summer and spread that fall. This means that any that germinated the next spring are entering their third growing season, probably a reasonable time to begin switching from establishing their vegetative beachhead to reproducing. Here are a couple looks at what a lot of the gravel hills, the droughty soils, look like.

The common thread is that after four years the ground is finally almost covered. There are still open spots on the poorer soils, but I can envision a sod now. And because of the sod I can begin to envision the building of some organic matter.

The increases I see in many of the species that I see can come from three different causes. The first is brand new seedlings. While the restoration is entering its fifth year, much of the seed went on three years ago, and some only two years ago. Dormancy varies wildly from seed to seed. Many of the seeds were simply not ready to germinate right away, and needed a prolonged period to overcome that dormancy. This is especially true of many legumes which have both a chemical dormancy overcome by a cold period, and a physical dormancy caused by a hard seed coat that needs to be abraded to let in water. Some may even be new seedlings from seed produced by plants already in the restoration, a second generation. The second cause is demonstrated by the picture above. Many plants spread vegetatively, whether by rhizomes as our friend the sunflower demonstrates above, or simply by enlarging the crown and sending out more shoots from a central location. Big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii) is a bunchgrass, yet can take over seedings by individual crowns enlarging and putting forth multiple stems. Finally, I am sure many of these plants were already present last year or the year before, but were not noticed because they were humble little plants growing vegetatively close to the ground, and have only become obvious this year after achieving sufficient stature and food storage to boldly bring their flowers to the world. I am slowly becoming better at identifying small vegetative specimens of many species, and for every plant that blooms of some wildflowers there may be several that aren’t blooming.

Above is an example of another way that I am trying to introduce more plants of desired species to the restoration. Dr. Lora Perkins at South Dakota State University (SDSU) grew plugs of several wildflowers from seed that I provided and I have been planting them the past couple weeks. All together perhaps 300 plugs were planted of 10-12 species. The seedling above had probably been in the ground 10-14 days when I took the picture, and still looked ok. Normally I would consider it rooted and successful after that time, but it has been very hot and windy the past few days (about 100 degrees with a 30 mph wind as I type this) and it may be more than the tiny root system will take. Originally I was optimistic that two thirds of the seedlings would live, which I would consider a big success, but after the weather of the last few days I will be ecstatic if half make it (and not surprised if it is far fewer than that).

Finally, I have two new species that can be added to the list for the restoration that I mentioned in the list above. Both yellow sundrops and standing milkvetch are species that I have gathered small amounts of seed for, and thus had only small hopes to see. So now in addition to the 14 plugs of A. adsurgens that I transplanted and am worrying about I have at least one from seed.

In summary, good things are happening at the restoration, and I plan to continue to do things to keep them getting better. Over the next year, more seed will be spread, more seedlings will be planted, more invasive weeds will be controlled and I hope to burn half of it next spring. Big stuff for this old farmer; I’ll let you know how it goes.

Not All Plants Are Created Equal, Part 2

Last spring I wrote a post where I bemoaned the planting of potentially maladapted seed in my restorations, seed sourced from gentler climes, that would not be able to take the relatively cold, dry conditions of my gravel hills on the Prairie Coteau. I introduced the idea of starting a venture of increasing seed from my prairies in small production plots, both for my own use and potentially for sale or gift to other practitioners of prairie restoration. Here’s an update of progress that has been made, and an extension of the concept.

First, I am not going to be the main “farmer” of my prairie species. My physical resources are too limited to add another time consuming and strenuous activity. I am still trying to keep developing my own restorations, and even there I am relying on occasional help. I am fortunate that my young partner, Ben Lardy, has an interest in the concept, and the first plots will be on his place. While I certainly hope to use most of the seed on my fields, originally, if there is ever an actual business that comes from this it will be Ben’s business. I literally have no interest in making any money from the seed, and definitely have no interest in the sorts of activities that would be necessary to create such a business. There are many seedhouses specializing in native seed, and I’m sure we could find one that was interested in our product, should we have excess to sell.

There are many issues, though. We don’t really have a facility to process seed, getting it shelled out of seedheads/seedpods. We don’t have a setup for stratification of the seed, storing it in a damp medium in a refrigerator to mimic seed out on the land over winter , which is necessary for most species to germinate. We don’t have a way to easily scarify seed with a hard seed coat, scratching a break in the seed coat to allow water in. There is an infrastructure that every seedhouse has that we lack. So, to begin, we will beg for assistance. I am not proud. Dr. Lora Perkins at SDSU, who has a native seed project with a lab, greenhouse space and student labor, is providing advice and help. I had scored points by giving her seed that I had gathered to work with, and she has been very gracious in providing advice, and she will start seedlings of some of my selections which I shall buy to transplant. The saying is usually that “I have more time than money.” My version is that I have “more money than time and energy”. Gathering resources in my world is almost always more about supporting and cultivating friendships than any tangible resource. I feel very rich in those resources.

And there is so much more! I had a wonderful visit in Fargo recently with Marissa Ahlering and Nina Hill with the Nature Conservancy (TNC) and Juli Bosmoe, Sarah Hewitt and Jodi Meisch from Audubon Dakota (Audubon). Besides the joy it was to hang out with such an engaging, dynamic group of young women (with the added treat that I got to hold Sarah’s baby for half an hour) the topic that I went to Fargo to discuss was a database that TNC is putting together documenting native prairie species in a geographic information services program (GIS) with the stated purpose of creating a database of seed collection sites. There are many barriers to this developing its potential as a general resource to the conservation community, starting with privacy and access issues, but if that is resolved, there is the huge job to enter all of that data, particularly because it has to be done in the field to get the specific GPS tags on the various populations. However, what started as an in-house attempt to help their crews more efficiently find and gather seed has the potential to be so much more. If we are thinking big enough, including not only conservation non-profits such as TNC and Audubon, but public agencies and private citizens like me, we can create a restoration culture that supports the attempts of amateurs that might otherwise never dream to attempt such a thing.

I have been reading on the TNC website recently that a significant limiting factor in the plans to reforest millions of acres is the lack of tree seedlings to plant. The same is basically true for locally adapted prairie seed. I could see, for example, seed from two or three discrete sources being grown by us, perhaps at different sites to limit cross pollination. Or perhaps they should be grown together to provide for purposeful cross pollination. The very nature of the fragmentation of prairies means that there might need to be rejuvenation of the genetic base by jumping out of the narrow mindset that could allow genetic drift to impoverish the plants’ genomes. Small populations of any type lose traits, they lose genetic possibilities through random happenstance. Maybe we can combat that.

This post is definitely getting into the realm of “talking smart”. I know enough genetics to sound like I know what I am talking about when I really don’t know crap. Big topics need big talk, however. The loss of biodiversity is just as important and just as real for plants as it is for animals. I will bring that back to my humble restorations in another post.