As I promised in the last post, an update is necessary to bring this plan up to date, and much has happened. First, Ben Lardy and I were unable to get the SARE grant for which we had applied, primarily because it didn’t really fit the criteria of what the review board saw as agriculture. Though we sincerely hope that we will be growing marketable seed, my overarching goal has little to do with making money, and a lot to do with maximizing ecosystem services provided by the restoration and the farm that it fits in. My honest evaluation that this would be a very difficult project to evaluate as a business case kicked it to the rear of the queque. Any money spent on this project will be mine, not from Uncle Sam.

Second, the winter that wasn’t has returned to a perpetual April, and I have been out to the restoration more times to spread seed, primarily on the area that was burned. Below are a couple pictures from a few days ago showing a couple things that the burn revealed. I will digress a bit in explaining the pictures before I come back to the 2024 plan.

This first picture shows one of many “mystery mounds” that were revealed. At first I wondered whether they were spots where the burned clumps had caught blowing soil, but I have abandoned the erosion explanation as not every clump of residue has a mound of soil around it. If erosion was the culprit the forb residue in the foreground would also have soil. No, it seems obvious we have a biotic explanation, perhaps a burrowing rodent (though certainly not a pocket gopher mound, of which there are many examples in the restoration). These mounds were obviously there before the burn, protecting the plant tissue within them from the fire. We likely have a species of vole or mouse who has excavated a small den or tunnel, pushing the sand to the surface. My wife is betting on ants, who make mounds in the prairies. I hope to look further into these in the future.

Above is a fun observation from a wider angle look at the burn. To the left are obvious rows with clumps of bunchgrasses that have burned lined up, while to the right there is no pattern. This goes all the way back to the original seeding, in which seed only flowed down the tubes to the ground intermittently, and large areas received little or no seed. Before the burn this pattern is far less obvious because Ben and I repeatedly spread seed to get coverage of all the soil accomplished. Thus, this summer all the area had similar grass cover, but the area which had originally been bereft of seed had an extra year of opportunity for my gathered wildflower seed to establish. The flip side of the equation is that the operator obviously looked in the drill box occasionally to find the seed had bridged and responded by enlarging the opening. This meant that where seed came out, a lot of seed was dropped, and stands filled in immediately, leaving little room for the locally gathered seed I spread to get a foothold. Much of that area is along the south side of the restoration, near the road, meaning the challenges I was facing were not obvious to passers by, a happy accident. By July one will have to look closely to see this pattern as the vegetation regrows and fills in. One of the main goals for the next couple years is to get some of the forbs from my locally gathered seed established in the area on the left side of the picture to increase the diversity. The nice winter weather has allowed me to spread a lot of seed over the burn, so we will see if we have any luck establishing new plants. The goal is to increase the forb diversity in the area depicted in the left side of the picture from the 12-15 species that were put in by the conservation district with their drill up to 30-50 species of wildflower, though I’m afraid the competition from the thick existing stand will mean I may waste a lot of seed.

However, this addresses a big question that many people are wrestling with. Prairie restorations often become dominated by two or three aggressive grass species and fail to provide all the benefits that were hoped for. How best does one manage holding on to or reclaiming the diversity that is desired? Many people are trying different methods; Chris Helzer and staff at the Platte River prairies managed by The Nature Conservancy have been using a mixture of burning, overseeding and grazing, and I am trying to model my attempts and experiments on their ideas.

Returning to the 2024 plan, I have been talking to a few of my friends in the conservation community about becoming part of an advisory board to help develop strategies to manage our restorations in the future. At one point we were even considering establishing a nonprofit geared towards prairie restoration, but right now we are thinking of just putting the land into a trust and managing it a lot like a nonprofit, putting income from the land back into its management to continue to achieve our goals for the land. We have an appointment with a local attorney who has experience in estate work next week to begin the process. The advisory board, which could segue into a board of directors, accomplishes several things. It provides a variety of perspectives which can help broaden my view of possibilities; it broadens the group of people who can use the restorations as an example for others; and it provides support for my daughters when Linda and I are gone, or not able to actively manage our land.

It seems a bit grandiose, a stretch perhaps, to bring in a board to advise and eventually make decisions on one little farm; on my interpretation of what a prairie restoration can be and can do and can represent, and then to expect that to radiate out to the greater world. There’s a little bit of hubris here, perhaps. I don’t shy away from it, however. If not here, where? And if not me, who? And if there’s a better spot, a better manager and a better example elsewhere, that is wonderful! I will gladly support that example. I will attempt to milk as many ideas, as much energy and as much education for others out of this little project on this little farm as I possibly can. I would be betraying my responsibilities to the world if I did any less.

I went to a field day near New London in central Minnesota last weekend. The owner, Ann Gustafson, who has become a good friend through my work with the Minnesota Land Trust, hosted staff from a couple nonprofits who are doing conservation work on their property under a grant from the state of Minnesota and the federal Natural Resources Conservation Service (NRCS). These organizations invited their members, and about 25 people ended up viewing, talking about and even helping a bit on restoration work on an oak savanna. Perhaps six or seven potential or ongoing restoration projects were represented and were both edified and inspired by the work being done by my friends. Those people may inspire their friends and neighbors, and the work on 300 acres may influence thousands more. How cool is that?! Their 350 acre property/ranch deserves a board of advisors to help them navigate the possibilities and the pitfalls, which can then inform and inspire others. Ann and her son Frank are doing pretty well on their own, but maybe I can help discuss how and why to put such a group together, and in turn learn some things to help me in my endeavors.

That’s what I’m doing and where I’m going this year. The previous post discussed my goal to use my property as a seed bank where other practitioners of prairie restoration could gather seed adapted to this area, and perhaps to contribute to a more formal seed bank, storing locally adapted seed, and growing out those selections as needed for those who might do this 20 or 50 or even 200 years down the road. And now I’m hoping to gather a group of interested people to help my daughters manage this into the future, and to amplify and spread the lessons and the possibilities we discover. This is turning into one hell of a retirement project.

And here is the goal, of course. This is from some of my relict prairie which adjoins the restoration, a hill of flax (Linum sulcatum) and black samson (Echinacea angustifolia) blooming after some good July rain.