Author Archives: Chris Helzer

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About Chris Helzer

Chris Helzer is Director of Science and Stewardship for The Nature Conservancy in Nebraska, where he conducts research and supervises the Conservancy’s preserve stewardship program. He also helps develop, test, and share prairie management and restoration strategies. Chris is also dedicated to raising awareness about the value of prairies through his photography, writing and presentations. He is the author of The Prairie Ecologist blog, and two books: The Ecology and Management of Prairies and Hidden Prairie: Photographing Life in One Square Meter. He is also a frequent contributor to NEBRASKAland magazine and other publications. Chris and his family live in Aurora, Nebraska.

Photos of the Week – January 31, 2020

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We got some light snow this week. Then, as soon as the sun came out, that snow began to melt. I was on a conference call when the sun emerged and I had a hard time sitting still during the remainder of that call… As soon as we signed off, I was out the door and heading to our family prairie, hoping to get there before the snow disappeared. I made it, but just barely – I could almost see the snow patches shrinking as I walked around.

We don’t normally have a stream on the property, but the ‘drain’ that leads to the pond was full of water – the result of recent rains and snow melt perched on the frozen ground. Judging by tracks, the consistency of the slushy ice in the so-called stream was just enough that the raccoons could almost run across the top. The exceptions, where the tracks suddenly got much deeper and filled with water, revealed a story that would have been entertaining to watch in real time.
I wandered between patches of tall and short vegetation, looking for tracks and other signs of life and activity.
Coral berry (Symphoricarpus orbiculatus) in a snow bank.
There were lots of small mammal tracks, especially where vegetation was short. Ok, maybe it was just easier to see the tracks in those open areas, but it really did seem like they were more abundant where vegetation was sparse.
The best story I found was this one – here’s my interpretation. A mouse was hopping from the top left of the frame toward the bottom right. As it reached the bottom of the frame, it must have spotted the hawk (owl?) coming at it and suddenly reversed its course. It made it about three feet before the raptor swooped in from the top right and snagged the mouse where you see the wing print (and where the mouse tracks end). The raptor then ‘bounced’ once and landed in the center of the frame, where it shuffled forward a little while it either got a better grip on the mouse or consumed it. You can click this image to see a larger version of it.
More mouse tracks. I didn’t see any indication that this particular mouse was caught by a raptor.

Winter prairies, as my last post discussed, can seem empty of life at first glance. Certainly, there is much less going on than during the chaotic revelry of the summer, but fresh snow can help reveal some of what’s actually happening. I didn’t come away from this trip with the kinds of photos I was hoping for, but it’s hard to complain. The tired adage about ‘a bad day fishing’ applies here too, and I fully recognize the privilege I enjoy that often allows me to drop everything and head to a prairie at a moment’s notice.

The stories hidden in winter prairies are fewer and harder to find, but that also makes them more gratifying to discover. If you’re fortunate enough to live where fresh snow reveals stories in prairies near you, I hope you’ll be able to go on your own expedition.

The Empty Stadium

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When wandering through a stadium during the off-season, the stillness can be overwhelming.  The arena is full of life and commotion during the season, but most everyone is gone now.  Only a few die-hard athletes and year-round staff remain, preparing for the next year, or just hanging around because they don’t have anywhere better to be. 

As you walk around in the near silence, it’s easy to imagine the kind of bustling activity that occurs when everyone is around.  While much of the mess has been cleaned up, the main infrastructure remains and you can squint your eyes and envision the players moving about on the field.  While meandering about, you feel nostalgic about previous visits as well as a strong yearning for the start of the upcoming season.

While it can be a moving experience for devoted fans, a visit to a stadium during the off-season is an ineffective way to recruit new enthusiasts.  Newcomers don’t have the context to understand the significance of what, for veterans, easily conjures up visions of previous events.  The inexperienced see only the vacant shell, not the memories of what happened inside it. 

New fans are enticed by the exhilarating color and drama that comes when the stadium is full of life – when there is more to see than can be seen.  After sufficient time, however, they will also come to appreciate a walk unhurried through an empty arena, soaking in the atmosphere.  Reminiscences of the past and anticipation of the future provide ample gratification.