Wildfire and Erosion (Or Not) at the Niobrara Valley Preserve

After the 2012 wildfire that swept through the Niobrara River Valley in north-central Nebraska, one of the concerns among our neighbors and other observers was the chance of significant erosion from both wind and water.  Based on previous experience with summer fire and grazing in Sandhills prairie, we weren’t overly concerned about erosion there, but we had less experience with the kind of steep slopes and loose soils found beneath the ponderosa pine and eastern red cedar trees on the bluffs north of the river.  We used timelapse cameras to watch several areas where we thought there was potential for erosion to happen.  (Spoiler alert: not much happened.)

One of our timelapse cameras, set up to watch the downwind edge of a big blowout in bison-grazed Sandhills prairie.

One of our timelapse cameras, set up to watch the downwind edge of a big blowout in bison-grazed Sandhills prairie.  After this photo was taken, fence panels were erected around the base of the camera post to keep bison from rubbing on it.

One camera was set up on the edge of a big Sandhills blowout (an area of bare sand created by previous wind erosion).  With a summer of severe drought, a July wildfire, and continuous bison grazing during and after all of that, it seemed possible we’d see some accelerated wind erosion there.  The camera was erected in April 2013 and set to take one photo per hour and document whether or not the blowout expanded in size following the fire.

The camera’s post twisted and shifted some over time (watch the distant bluffs in the top left corner of the images as a landmark).  That made it more difficult to track the edge of the blowout precisely, but it’s clear that if there was any expansion of the blowout, it was really minor.  This matches what we’ve seen previously after conducting prescribed fires (spring, summer, and fall) in bison-grazed prairie in the Sandhills.  Although ranchers are often advised to defer grazing after a fire to avoid damaging grasses and/or causing erosion, we haven’t seen any long-term problems arise from grazing immediately after fires.  Graduate research by Jack Arterburn at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln is helping us further evaluate the recovery of grasslands from this latest wildfire.

Jeff Dale, of Moonshell Media, installs a timelapse camera on a steep slope north of the Niobrara River beneath fire-killed pine and cedar trees.

Jeff Dale, of Moonshell Media, installs a timelapse camera on a steep slope north of the Niobrara River beneath fire-killed pine and cedar trees.  Looking at Jeff’s feet versus the base of the tree he’s working on gives you a feel for the steepness of the slope.

North of the river, the wildfire ripped through stands of ponderosa pine and eastern red cedar that had become so dense that very little vegetation could grow beneath many of them.  Following the fire, the barren ground and steep slopes seemed ripe for significant soil erosion.  We had several cameras in this area to help see how much erosion actually occurred.  One of those (shown above) was set to look across a steep slope in a place that seemed particularly likely to lose soil during a downpour.

Some small gullies formed, and a few rocks even washed downslope along with some topsoil during spring rains in 2013.  After that, however, annual plants of various kinds established quickly on the slopes and subsequent soil loss between the summer of 2013 and the end of the season in 2015 appears to have been very minimal.  Perennial plants are now starting to spread across these slopes, but it will be a while before they are the dominant vegetation.  In the meantime, annual sunflowers, foxtails, and other short-lived opportunistic species seem to be doing their jobs and holding the soil.

This camera was deployed to record sediment coming off the steep slopes on the bluffs and into the bottom of this draw.

This camera was deployed to record sediment coming off the steep slopes on the bluffs and into the bottom of this draw.

We also put a camera at the bottom of a draw beneath the steep slopes shown earlier.  Any water and/or sediment coming from those slopes would have to flow into and through this draw, so we thought it would be a good place to watch.  In the first video below, you can see that a load of sediment did come down between May 18 and May 21, 2013 – the same time period during which we saw the most significant erosion in the video of the steep slopes.  The other story from this particular video is that you can really see the resprouting of the bur oak trees in that draw – nearly all of which seemed to survive the wildfire (albeit in a different form than before).

In the second video from this camera, you can see a quick progression of images from the three years following the fire.  The tall growth of vegetation (primarily annuals) makes it difficult to see the ground, but there doesn’t seem to be any evidence of erosion after that first half season of 2013.  We didn’t do any seeding or take other steps to reduce erosion on steep slopes, so it was reassuring to see that the plants there were up to the task of holding the soil.  Amanda Hefner and Dave Wedin from the University of Nebraska-Lincoln have been collecting data from the site that we hope corroborates the story we’re seeing through the cameras.

It would have been a lot more exciting to show you videos of blowouts moving across the Sandhills or torrents of rock and soil washing down steep slopes.  Sorry about that.  On the other hand, while we won’t likely win any awards for dramatic videos, watching nothing much happen in these timelapse images is pretty powerful in its own way.  It’s natural to assume the worst after a traumatic event like a major wildfire, and it can be difficult to convince ourselves and others that things will be ok without some pretty strong evidence.  Timelapse photography is only part of our effort to measure the impacts of the wildfire, but they provide visual reassurance in ways that data graphs just can’t.

We’ll continue to watch and react to the recovering landscape in the coming years.  For now, however, recovery of the Niobrara Valley Preserve seems to be on a good track.

Thanks to the Nebraska Environmental Trust for supporting our timelapse project other efforts to measure and track recovery from this wildfire.

Photo of the Week – March 31, 2016

Many of you remember previous posts about the wildfire that swept across the Niobrara Valley back in July 2012.  About half of The Nature Conservancy’s Niobrara Valley Preserve burned during that event.  Through some funding from the Nebraska Environmental Trust Fund and assistance from Moonshell Media, we set up an array of timelapse cameras to document the recovery of our site from that fire.

I’ve spent much of this week looking through many thousands of images from those cameras.  The cameras (when they are working properly) take one photo each daylight hour.  Between April 2013 and today, that is approximately 14 billion images – or so it seems through my weary and bloodshot eyes.  As I’ve been poring through these photos, looking for stories they can tell us, one thing that keeps my fire stoked (so to speak) is the periodic discovery of dramatic light and/or scenes captured by the automated cameras.  Today, I’m sharing a selection of those accidental masterpieces taken by one particular camera that was set up to peer downstream from near the top of the bluff north of the Niobrara River.

April 2013, just before the first growing season following the wildfire. The ground was still bare and punctuated by the skeletons of ponderosa pine and eastern red cedar trees killed by the fire.

April 2013, just before the first growing season following the wildfire. The ground was still bare and punctuated by the skeletons of ponderosa pine and eastern red cedar trees killed by the fire.

When we set up this camera, my hope was to watch the re-greening of the hills beneath the dead ponderosa pine and eastern red cedar trees and maybe catch a nice sunrise or two.  Both objectives were achieved, along with some other really gorgeous photographs – some of which happened only because the camera malfunctioned.

October 2015. This image caps off the third growing season of recovery from the wildfire. Bare slopes formerly underneath an overgrown canopy of pine and cedar trees

October 2015. This image caps off the third growing season of recovery from the wildfire. Bare slopes have grown a covering of grasses, shrubs, and other plants.  Many of the plants seen here are annuals, yet to be replaced by perennials, but those are slowly spreading on the slopes as well.  A number of yucca, sumac, and other shrubby plants have regrown from their bases and we are waiting to see how that transition continues.

August 2015. A beautiful foggy morning.

August 2015. A beautiful foggy morning.

May 2013. This photo wasn't supposed to have been taken because the camera was only meant to shoot during daylight hours. However, the controller somehow decided to take this photo at 9:13pm and it is a beautiful one.

May 2013. This photo wasn’t supposed to have been taken because the camera was only meant to shoot during daylight hours. However, the controller somehow decided to take this photo at 9:13pm and it is a beautiful one.

November 2015. A serene photo taken in the middle of a snowstorm.

November 2015. A serene photo taken in the middle of a snowstorm.

December 2013. This is one of the few sunrise photos we got that had much color in the sky.

December 2013. This is one of the few sunrise photos we got that had much color in the sky.

August 2014. Annual sunflowers dominate the foreground of the image, as they and other annual plants cover the hills in the background.

August 2014. Annual sunflowers dominate the foreground of the image, and they and other annual (and some perennial) plants cover the hills in the background.

August 2014. A foggy morning with the same sunflowers seen in the previous photo.

August 2014. A foggy morning with the same sunflowers seen in the previous photo., but taken a week earlier.

June 2015. Flowering stalks help highlight the abundance of yucca on a cloudy summer evening.

June 2015. Flowering stalks help highlight the abundance of yucca on a cloudy summer evening.

January 2014. A hazy sunrise on a cold winter morning.

January 2014. A hazy sunrise on a cold winter morning.

March 2014. Fog, frost, and a sunrise through silhouettes of trees make this my favorite photo of the three years of timelapse images fromthis camera.

March 2014. Fog, frost, and a sunrise through silhouettes of trees make this my favorite photo of the three years of timelapse images from this camera.

So, there you go.  A beautiful series of images that also show what happens following a wildfire.  Ecological processes don’t stop after a fire, they just shift into a different gear.  We have done nothing to aid or enhance the recovery of the woodland at this site.  To this point, we’ve just been watching for signs of trouble – invasive plants that might take advantage of the situation, serious soil erosion issues, etc.  There hasn’t yet been any reason to step in and act.  Plants and animals are thriving on the slopes shown in these photos, though the composition of those communities has changed pretty dramatically – and continues to change.

Ecological resilience is about the ability of natural systems to absorb shock and keep functioning.  The pine woodland is gone from these hills, and it will probably take many decades to show up again because they are pretty far away from unburned pine woodland that could provide seed.  In the meantime, we will do our job as land stewards and try to facilitate the most biological diversity we can, using the primary tools available to us – prescribed fire and grazing to manipulate plant competition and habitat structure, and spot-treatment (as needed) with herbicides to control invasives.

We hope to keep these timelapse cameras going for at least several more years.  Hopefully, that will help us continue documenting the amazing resilience of nature, and the specific stories playing out at the Niobrara Valley Preserve.  If nothing else, we should be at least get some more beautiful, if accidental, photographs to enjoy.