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 several 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.