The Prairie Ecologist

Hi everyone. I hope you’re all well. I’m sorry about the scarcity of new posts lately. I’m still having a hard time deciding what I can contribute toward the current national focus on racial injustice and police brutality – all of which is occurring within a continuing global pandemic. Discussing the results of a project to evaluate the impact of a grazing management approach on pollinator resources seems out of place right now. So does posting pretty photos of what I’ve seen in our prairies lately. I’ll get back to those and other topics, but neither seems to add much to the bigger current issues in our society.

My last post was an attempt to share how I’m personally trying to deal with all the emotions and thoughts running through my head right now. A number of you responded positively to that. I’m glad the post resonated. However, I wanted to highlight a comment on that post made by former Hubbard Fellow Jasmine Cutter. Rather than trying to summarize or paraphrase her thoughts, I encourage you to go back to that post and read her comment yourself, as well as the short back-and-forth discussion we had afterward.

Jasmine questioned whether I was using my platform as effectively as I could to support the Black Lives Matter campaign and the protests about police brutality – particularly to Black people and other people of color. I’m grateful to her for pushing me on the issue and proud to call her a friend.

In response to Jasmine’s challenge, let me state a few things unequivocally. First, the murder of George Floyd by a police officer was horrendous and only one of countless racially-motivated crimes by police officers throughout the history of our country. In addition, while my last post focused on the approach of trying to listen and understand the perspectives of others – and I still believe that to be a sound approach – that doesn’t mean people shouldn’t also be angry about racial injustice. Anger and outrage are very appropriate responses. Anger and outrage are needed now to help shock the system we’ve been living under and hopefully spur substantive change.

I support those who are protesting the racially-motivated and unjust murders of Black people across the United States. Those protests have profoundly affected me and forced me to look at myself and our society in ways that are uncomfortable. I think that’s productive, and I’ve been trying to lean into that discomfort by reading, listening to, and trying to absorb the perspectives of those who have suffered and are suffering in ways I can’t comprehend.

I’m deeply ashamed that I sometimes find myself making unfair snap judgments about people based mainly on their apparent race, gender, and/or other traits. My initial reaction is usually quickly overruled by the more rational part of my brain, which points out to the (apparently) racist part of my brain that it’s an idiot. I try to take advantage of those occasions to have a conversation with myself about what just happened and why. I also profoundly hope that my brief lapses in (judgment? reason? humanity?) have not affected anyone in a negative way.

The current protests and attention to racism have amplified my motivation to keep working on my own flaws and failings and to be the best ally I can for people who face obstacles I don’t face. I pledge to continue looking for ways to help. I hope all of you reading this have also been affected by the protests (and/or have been part of them) and are responding in your own way to enable positive change.

As I’ve been listening and absorbing over the last couple weeks, there are a few voices/stories I’ve found to be particularly inspiring and/or helpful to me. If you’re not familiar with them, here they are:

Drew Lanham (@1blackbirder on Twitter)

There are myriad stories by black naturalists, birders and biologists posted with the hashtags #BlackInNature and #BlackBirdersWeek. Reading those stories and looking at the pictures helps, among other things, change the visual image of what naturalists, birders, and scientists look like.

There are lots of prominent historical figures and story lines I either didn’t know about or had terribly wrong impressions of. One great example of the former is the story of Fred Hampton.

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(Record Scratch)

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Thanks for listening, and please pardon this incongruous switch in tone and topic. While prairie photos may not add directly to the solving of the massive societal issues we’re grappling with, they are still why most of you come to this blog. So – here are a few photos from a recent visit to our family prairie.

Many caterpillars use their ability to produce silk and ‘sew’ leaves or flower petals together as a shelter for themselves. This allows them to feed out of sight of most larger predators. When I come across one of these, I always struggle with whether or not to disturb it. I want to know what it is – caterpillar? spider? something else? But I also don’t want to harm the subject of my interest. Usually, I break down and peek, but try to do so in a way that allows the inhabitant of the shelter to repair any damage I do.

Last week, while looking for musk thistles at our prairie, I came across two different species of leaf-sewing caterpillars on three different plants – all within about 2 square meters of prairie. Here are some photos.

This pussytoes plant (*Antennaria neglecta*) had its upper leaves sewn together., as did a number of its neighbors. I couldn’t pass by without investigating…

Most of the ‘tents’ of pussytoes leaves I investigated were empty except for frass (insect poop), but I finally found one that still contained the larva. I’m guessing a moth larva, but don’t know. The other mystery relates to what it was doing there. I didn’t see any obvious evidence of it feeding on the leaf – and didn’t really see evidence of leaf feeding in the other cases where all I found was poop. It must be eating something, right?

Here’s a photo of that full caterpillar, including its head.

Just a few feet away, a second kind of caterpillar was hiding inside this cudweed sagewort (*Artemisia ludoviciana*) plant, which it had sewn together as a shelter. I peeked inside to look at the caterpillar. It looked like the same species that was in the wavy leaf thistle (*Cirsium undulatum*) nearby (below).

I think this black and yellow caterpillar was the same species that was in the sagewort plant displayed above. In this case, the caterpillar wasn’t completely hidden, but just created a silken barrier around itself.

Here’s the same caterpillar again with the focus on the caterpillar, not the silk.

Be well and be safe, but also feel free to be angry and introspective. Let’s get through this together and try to come out on the other side as better people and a better society.

It’s really hard to know what to say right now. I had a list of potential topics for today’s blog post, ranging from whimsical to technical, but I don’t think this is the time for any of them.

Look, I’m just a guy who thinks it’s fun to lay down in prairies to study and photograph flowers and bugs. That doesn’t give me any kind of qualification to help address major societal issues. Regardless, I do have one plea to anyone who reads this. Please – listen, reflect, and try to understand.

It can sometimes be hard to fathom the reasons people act as they do. That’s especially true when their actions are completely contrary to what you think are sensible or appropriate. But people don’t act randomly. Those who protest against pandemic-related restrictions and those who protest against systemic racism, for example, are both motivated by earnestly-felt emotions; fear, anxiety, anger, sadness, frustration, and others. That they are responding based on honest emotions doesn’t make their actions right or wrong – it just means they have reasons for their actions.

For what it’s worth, here’s an approach I’m taking in response to the world’s current craziness. I’m trying to listen to those with views different from mine. I’m trying to reflect on what motivates them to think and act in the way they do, and in that way understand them better. My hope is that if enough of us do this, we can start conversations about difficult issues that begin by acknowledging how each other feels, and why. That seems more productive than simply dismissing those who think differently from ourselves and trying to shout our views in a louder voice than theirs.

Again, this is not an area of expertise for me; I’m just sharing what I’m trying to do.

Even if my approach doesn’t change society, it’s helpful to me. Watching people act in seemingly illogical ways scares the hell out of me. It makes me feel helpless in an out-of-control world. How do you resolve chaos? Gaining an understanding why people are acting in a certain way gives me hope that an issue can be resolved. Even that small bit of perspective makes me feel better.

During times like this, nature is a kind of anchor for me. I can seek out beauty there, and watch prairie organisms interact with each other in ways that are unrelated to the raging debates of people all around them. In that way, a visit to a prairie is an escape from human society. At the same time, it also gives me a chance to reflect and process events and perspectives – sometimes semi-consciously – in a way that helps me when I resurface into the human world.

I’ll leave you with a series of recent photos that reflect what is happening in the world of prairies right now. I hope they provide you with a little sense of peace; a temporary escape from all that’s happening. Please be safe and well. And if you can, listen, reflect, and try to understand.