Every year about this time I write a post on this theme, though my mind may still be working on issues from the last year and not be ready for the next year. I need a prompt, however, to get my mind in gear, so here goes. What am I going to do this year, and how is it different from what I’ve been doing the last few years? Good question to ponder, and I don’t have a ready answer, but I think I’ll just start swimming along and see where the current takes me.

First, I am consumed with what I consider a great opportunity that bridges 2024 and 2025: using the excellent burn spearheaded by Ben Lardy on the 20 acres seeded two years ago as the start of a major enhancement in forb depth and richness on that ground. Already I have spread a large amount of seed there gathered by my other compatriot, Levi Waddell. Levi and helpers gathered a variety of species for me over the late summer, ran it all through a mill, and I ended up with several large bags of seed mixed with leaves and stems, a mishmash divided into upland and mesic bags. It’s impossible to know what all was in there, perhaps 40 or 50 species, so I hope to find surprises and treasures the next 2-3 years as plants grow and develop. I am convinced they have been spread upon as receptive a canvas as one could find, the only downside being the number of Canadian thistles already established. The thistles will create a real race, as I have come to realize that the best way to hold thistles down is to have a very robust forb component; but if the thistle patches are too far ahead and too thick they will diminish or preclude development of that forb component. Which comes first? The chicken or the egg? I already know I will spend many trips in June and July agonizing over which thistle patches are too competitive to leave unaltered, and need to be knocked back by mowing or herbicide. One needs to be bold, however, to seize an opportunity, so I have continued risking my precious seed by spreading bits of this and that whenever conditions allow; including some additional seed from Levi, but mostly seed gathered by Ben and me last summer, as well as some with local provenance that I have purchased from the local seed purveyor, Milborns. How can seed not grow on the seedbed below?

Thus there will eventually (I am not done yet) be over 100 species spread this winter and spring that will cover the still black ground in the hopes that I can turn these 20 acres into a very diverse, thick prairie that will convey boatloads of ecosystem services, with emphasis on the goal of being a seed source for others down the road. Not all of this seed is ready to be spread yet, as some is still encased in pods and husks, stored at my farm and at Ben Lardy’s place, and soon we may get enough snow to block access. I am no longer a robust young man able to fight the snow and brave cold winds to get jobs done. I am, in short, a weenie, who cringes at weather and obstacles that once challenged and invigorated me. So it goes; I am who I am and must work with what is left of me. To the best of my ability I will be a warrior and not squander this chance.

So, what else of the winter? We are trying to get another step down the path of a structure for long term management of the restoration and our other land by crafting an estate plan that includes a vehicle for very long term management, possibly a 501(c)(e) nonprofit, perhaps an LLC that looks like a nonprofit, that can carry this, Linda’s grazing system and other work down the road, hopefully for generations. We definitely hope to have our grandchildren’s grandchildren able to learn from and enjoy our properties. I will give a preliminary iteration of the goals and mission statement in a dedicated post down the road. That post will be an early stab at the phrases that will guide future conservation efforts, and is likely to change and grow as Linda weighs in and others give counsel, but I think any subsequent iterations will have those ideas as a base. We have talked to a couple attorneys already, but would like to find an attorney/accountant combination with expertise and experience in this area. That alone would be a significant accomplishment. We have already identified people who are ready to help as board members and advisors, and as land managers. While it may seem that we are putting the cart before the horse, I feel finding the right people to carry on is more important than the legal structure. Good people can do great things with a flawed structure (though we plan to create an appropriate and efficient structure), but no structure will overcome the wrong people to implement it.

That will bring us to spring, when I hope to get a burn done on the Huggett ground that was seeded four years ago. While that is unlikely to give the golden opportunity for additional seeding that the fall burn provided, as competition from established plants will be greater, and all the seed will be spread in the spring, I think it is worth a try for a couple reasons. First, the majority of the 20 acres I call the Huggett land is very xeric. Below is a look from late May that is representative of perhaps a third of the field. Another third is more xeric and has thinner cover, while the last third is more mesic and usually has a lot of thistles. Thus, while I showed you the “just right” picture, I think it is fair to say that this, and thus at least two thirds of the field will become bare enough after a burn to justify spreading a lot of seed out there. Areas that look like the picture below don’t need a lot of help, but I am willing to burn some resources to try to make them even better. As I have written before, we aspire to greatness. The third of the field that is more barren now will gain a great deal if I have enough xeric adapted seed to spread and the summer is kind. The picture below shows an area that can hopefully be helped a little. On the final third I will put some mesic and wet mesic adapted species, primarily purchased, spray a little Milestone herbicide on the very worst Canada thistles (perhaps two acres will grow nothing else if I don’t use some herbicide to slow the thistles) and hope for the best.

If Ben can get this burned in April we may even get a short stratification period after the seed is spread, allowing a better chance of seed germinating this summer. With a little luck that can all be done, both burning and seeding by April 20 or so.

Another task I need to get back to is to work more on the relationship with the Native Plant Initiative (NPI) at SDSU through Dr. Lora Perkins, who heads the lab and manages a stable of grad students doing various research projects. I need to get together with her soon to see if one of those grad student/research project combinations can occur on our prairies. We started down that path last fall, but have not nailed down anything yet. We need to visit again soon.

Lora and I also have to talk about whether her lab will grow seedling plugs once again to plant in the restorations. We have planted about 2000 plugs over the past three years, and I am not sure whether I want to lock myself into a big job again. However, I recently talked to my friend and partner, Ben Lardy, and he says that he will plan on one day of work for me per week, which will probably cover the additional labor to get the plugs in. What species, you ask? The past three years I have concentrated on five species: groundplum milkvetch (Astragalus crassicarpus), slender milkvetch (A. flexuosus), standing milkvetch (A. adsurgens, prairie turnip (Pediomelum esculentum) and green milkweed (Asclepias viridiflora). All these wilidflowers have the combination of four attributes: First, the seed is hard to gather in large quantities, meaning there is added pressure to get the most out of the small amounts that I get, usually hundreds of seed to work with rather than thousands that I can gather of many species. Second, they must be difficult to purchase. Of the five species, standing and slender milkvetch are unavailable from any vendor, while the other three are sporadically available in small quantities. Third, they provide a known, demonstrable ecosystem service. Groundplums and turnips are what are now being referred to as “first foods”, plants that were important to the Native Americans of the area before settlement. Green milkweed is monarch butterfly candy, the only milkweed in our xeric soils. And all three milkvetches are important as legumes adapted to the xeric prairies, providing the nitrogen for all the other species. Fourth, I think they are all “uber cool”.

Back to this year; do I anticipate any changes? Yes, I hope to pick four or five new species to concentrate on. I have not made those choices yet, but I have been perusing my seedstocks getting ideas. I would like to get bastard toadflax (Comandra umbellata) established on all the xeric soils on the restorations, and I have some seed gathered from them for the first time. Ditto for hoary puccoon (Lithospermum canescens). I would like to establish a lot more early figwort (Scrophularia lanceolata) in the mesic soils, as it has a reputation as a tremendous source of nectar for a variety of pollinators. I want to get textile onions (Allium textile) started on several of the gravel hills. And the NPI lab has perhaps 100 seedlings of downy gentian (Gentiana puberulenta) overwintering for me in a refrigerator. The seedlings were not big enough to put in last summer, so they will likely go out in May. In addition there will likely be a couple more species that I think deserve to be fully represented in the seed bank.

One happy dilemma is that I gathered a more than normal amount of seed of many species, including all of the five species I started to transplant three years ago, so I hope to spend some time spreading, or rather placing them in appropriate environments, rather than relying on the plugs. Below is an example, most of the crop of slender milkvetch from last year. I have gathered this many pods, a couple quarts, a couple times, but never were the pods full of as many seeds. I haven’t come close to shelling out all the seeds from the pods, but so far I have perhaps 2-3 ounces, maybe 10,000 seeds shelled out. In past years, I felt fortunate to get a few hundred. I have about 5000 seeds of the prairie turnip; my previous high was 1500, and usually I harvest 2-400 seeds. This opportunity occurred for 20-30 different species this year. Thus, one of the jobs of the year is to decide what to do with this bounty. We are unlikely to be able to collect as much next year, and the little bit of seed in that bowl is precious.

I have already talked about having plugs grown by the NPI lab, as well as very carefully putting seed out on last fall’s burn and the projected burn this spring. What I am pondering is a third choice, starting to bank some of the seed myself. I talk blithely about the restoration being a living seed bank, but that is a cheap aphorism without complimentary seed storage. At some point actual seed needs to be harvested and stored, whether for a year or a decade. I hope to have a good visit with Lora Perkins very soon to discuss this as well, to see if this is a task they are ready to partner on. I feel rich with all this seed of species that are difficult to buy. It behooves me to be prudent in how I use this bounty.

We’ve moved through next summer, have planted the plugs, sprayed and mowed a few thistles and gathered whatever seed was available. Is there more work for the fall, other than gathering more seed? I hope so. I hope to have a second batch of soil samples taken to measure organic matter and carbon. The first samples were taken five years ago and that seems like a reasonable interval at which to re-measure. I wouldn’t expect a significant change, particularly as it took several years for the vegetation to grow and cover the ground. It is only in the past three years that I would expect any carbon accumulation, but if nothing else it would be a second baseline measurement from which one could make comparisons later. Then, in the fall I hope to get another patch or two burned, with the hope to topdress some additional seed. And, of course, I hope to document it all with ever better photography in this blog.

I am in the 70th year of my life, my 70th birthday coming in October. How could this be? What the hell happened? Part of me is wizened and withered, while part of me remembers well how good it felt to run for the sheer joy of running. Part of me lives in a shadowy area I will enter too soon (the Grim Reaper and I are on a first name basis), but another part of me wonders at the shapes of leaves and the clouds in the sky. I walk outside with my 18 month old granddaughter Lily and feel we are kindred spirits, seeing the world through the same eyes. There is a great “Far Side” cartoon where a young man is strolling down a sidewalk, only to be hit by a runaway truck with “Old Age” emblazoned on the side. He stands up and looks down at his wrinkled hands, as another wrinkled geezer comes up and says, “Got you too, huh?” That’s how I feel sometimes. I was walking along, minding my own business, and “Wham!” youth and vigor was over. However, as the saying goes, “That was then. This is now.” Tomorrow morning when I wake up from the adventures of the night, I can say to myself: “Here’s another day! Wonderful things await! Don’t waste this opportunity! Do something you can be proud of!” That’s my hope for 2025, and my hope for my readers as well. Do something you can be proud of!