Two years ago, when I began planning for this adventure, I decided that I would try to gather some of the seed needed for the project, primarily to get plenty of black samson (Echinacea angustifolia), a major nectar source for Dakota skipper butterflies (Hesperae dacotae), a threatened species that was one of the drivers behind the project. During the late summer of 2017 I began gathering black samson, as well as leadplant (Amorpha canescens), another common favorite of mine. At the same time as I gathered my two main targets several other species would go into the pail, and I accumulated small amounts of several other species. It was enjoyable to be out gathering, and enjoyable to mess with the seed while drying and storing the seed.

Over the winter I spent a lot of time working with Ben Lardy at the Day County Conservation District planning the official CRP seed mix. As we worked through the frustrating process he asked whether I was interested in using any of the seed he had gathered the past year. I told him that I was, and when he brought me the seed I began to look at seed gathering in a new way.

The seed was in containers of all shapes and sizes. He had a good sized tub of porcupine grass (Heterostipa spartea), a small jar of wood betony (Pedicularis canadensis), a Tupperware container of bottle gentian (Gentiana andrewsii) seedheads, a couple pounds of Canada anemone (Anemone canadensis) in a coffee can and a pound of Canada milkvetch (Astragalus canadensis) in a cloth bag with a drawstring. There was a shoebox containing groundplum milkvetch (Astragalus crassicarpus) pods gathered from the prairie I had accidentally burned. There was a small jar with false gromwell (Onosmodium molle) and another with a few seeds of prairie turnip (Pediomelum esculentum). I am sure I have forgotten several species, but you get the idea. Though Ben is interested in creating a small side business gathering seed, he was also gathering seed as a type of mindfulness, a way to be aware of and immersed in the environment.

While the concept dawned on me when I saw the collection of seed, it blossomed as I studied seed catalogs and websites looking to purchase seed. I ended up buying small amounts of 30-40 species from Prairie Moon Seeds out of Winona, Minnesota to add to the official seed mix and when the box was delivered I was more than a bit deflated. Now, to go along with the large, expensive lot of seed I had purchased to fulfill the CRP requirements (that I wasn’t very happy with) I had a small container of packets that had cost over $1000 that would not appreciably affect the composition of my restoration. I imagined what the field would look like with all of my purchased seed growing and what I visualized was a nice wildflower meadow, but not a prairie. And certainly not a prairie from Day County, South Dakota.

Then I looked at the seed that Ben and I had gathered and the metaphorical light bulb began blazing. I have spent all possible hours since gathering seed from my prairies, along with a couple small prairies owned by friends. The seed gathering has become an avocation independent of the needs of the restoration. It has become the vehicle to allow myself to learn about the landscape. In a sense it has become what a Buddhist might call a walking meditation, silencing my inner dialogue as I wander. Almost magically, a bit of this and a bit of that becomes two or three gallons of seed and a couple of very pleasant hours have gone by. I go home to put the seed in the little dehydrator ovens my wife purchased to dry feed samples and have the pleasure of handling and respecting the fruits of my labor. Each days haul is unimpressive, but in the end the containers of uncleaned seed filled a good sized freezer.

Almost all the seed that was gathered was spread over the restoration last November. Though most of the seed was blended into batches to be broadcast in a pull-type spinner spreader, I have also spent many hours walking around the 100 acres hand-spreading. Usually I did this because I was micro-siting the seed. There is no point in tossing prairie turnip seed in a mesic site, for example, nor prairie cordgrass (Spartina pectinata) on a hill.

A different problem arose with thimbleweed (Anemone cylindrica), prairie smoke (Geum triflorum) and porcupine grass (Heterostipa spartea). There is simply no easy way to mix them with other seeds. It takes the patience of Job to take a wad of thimbleweed or prairie smoke and pick out small groups of seed to fling up for a breeze to distribute. And porcupine grass weaves itself into balls of spiny hell that demand a good pair of leather gloves to painstakingly dismantle the structure and extricate a few seeds at a time. The picture below is of Ben working on a clump (note the spears in his clothing as the porcupine grass fights back valiantly), but most impressive was a large wad that self organized into a wreath that looked like an oversized crown of thorns. While the process of seeding the porcupine grass was not without satisfaction for the job accomplished, a walking meditation it was not!

I used last winter to evaluate what was done, decide upon which components of the local prairies were underrepresented or missing, and to come up with a plan to access those species. Below is a partial list of missing species and species that I have very little of, that I know are in my prairies and that I am hoping to gather this year:

1. Flodmans thistle, Cirsium flodmanii
2. Xeric sedges, Carex sp.
3. Hoary puccoon, Lithospermum canescens
4. Prairie sundrops, Calylophus serrulatus
5. Textile onion, Allium textile
6. Panicgrass, Dicanthelium oligosanthes
7. Chickweed, Cerastium arvense
8. Ball cactus, Escobaria vivipara
9. Silverleaf scurfpea, Pediomelum argophyllum
10. Green milkweed, Asclepias viridiflora
11. Prairie ragwort, Packera plattensis
12. Pennsylvania cinquefoil, Potentilla pennsylvanica
13. Prairie larkspur, Delphinium virescens
14. Prairie milkvetch, Astragalus adsurgens

There are good reasons why I was not able to gather significant amounts of these and some other species. They are either 1. Widely scattered, 2. Poor seed producers, 3. Species whose seeds disperse quickly after reaching maturity, 4. Species which senesce and break off or become invisible at seed maturity, or 5. Some combination of the above. For many species there is basically no “Goldilocks” timing to gather seed: you are too early, too late, or both. This means that I am unlikely to gather much of any of these species this year either. Hopefully, though, with greater knowledge of plant locations and phenology, and emphasis upon key species, I can do better. For instance, this year I have successfully gathered a fair bit of textile onion. There is not enough to greatly affect plant composition on even a good sized hill, but one can hope that even a few plants will provide a platform so that there is germplasm available to spread and increase should the conditions allow. Many of these species are specific to a particular site (mostly very thin soils/xeric conditions), and I will be spreading them by hand soon after gathering. It is humbling to gather seed for hours and only end up with a handful, but occasionally one needs to be humbled.

In situations like this I am torn between scattering the seed as widely as possible on appropriate sites and a more targeted seeding in fewer, more concentrated areas. That certainly appears to be how many species are distributed, in patches. My difficulty is a lack of confidence in my ability to pick where to start the patches. Perhaps I am best off getting a few seeds widely scattered and hope for the best. In the end I will probably use both strategies for different species, guided by what I observe in my native prairies.

If all goes well, by the end of this next year I will have around 140-150 species planted, of which about 100 are at least partially gathered from the surrounding prairies. This summer I will try to post a list of species planted, along with a list of species found in the restoration. And more pictures. Had I realized I might start a blog I would have been far more diligent documenting what I saw and did with pictures, but I have done better this summer, and perhaps I can even become a better photographer.

A little update since I wrote this; in addition to the textile onion, I have gathered small amounts of chickweed, ragwort and have started gathering prairie milkvetch. Though I have a few seeds of panicgrass, it is practically impossible to gather, as is puccoon (which is reputed to be difficult to start from seed anyway), I gathered a bit of two xeric-adapted sedges, failed to get any prairie sundrops and have decided that the flodmans thistle can take care of its own damn self and blow into my restoration the same way all the other thistles have. The ball cactus is something I will probably try transplanting next year. That leaves the green milkweed, the cinquefoil and the larkspur to gather small amounts of in August.

I have had some luck gathering three other species whose potential populations I would like to augment. Over the past couple weeks I have gathered every alumroot (Heuchera richardsonii) seedhead I could find: and with some help I have been able to gather a fair bit of blanketflower (Gaillardia aristata) and slender milkvetch (Astragalus flexuosus). I have a good bit of blanketflower already in the restoration, but the phenotype (the visible characteristics of the plants) is quite different than my native blanketflowers, so gathering local germplasm seemed prudent. And I gathered slender milkvetch last year, but missed the ideal week and most pods had opened up and had already dropped much of their seed. This year my timing was better. I have also found several new patches of whorled milkweed (Asclepias verticillata) and hope to gather a fair bit of that.

Then, in mid to late August the main event begins as all the summer blooming prairie species begin to mature seed. Its gonna be fun.