Diversifying Our Prairie Icons

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For most people, bison and prairie dogs are the two strongest icons associated with North American Prairies.  I sometimes wonder if that’s a problem.

It sometimes seems that every nearly prairie documentary and book prominently features bison and prairie dogs. So do many signs, brochures, and other materials telling people why prairies matter and/or why they should visit them.

Bison are, of course, wonderful animals.  They have strong cultural significance and can play valuable ecological roles in grassland systems, especially through their grazing, wallowing and other behaviors.  Prairie dogs are cute, talk to each other, and create burrows and other habitat features that draw in lots of other animals.  If you’ve heard anything about prairie dogs, you’ve probably heard them called a keystone species – a species that has an outsized effect on an ecosystem, helping to support a broad diversity of other ecosystem members.

So, if a prairie doesn’t have bison or prairie dogs, is it still a prairie?

Of course it is.

Well, those of us who work in prairies know that.  Does the general public know it?  Or do they expect to see bison and prairie dogs in a real prairie?  If they do, it’s probably our fault.  Those of us who promote prairies sure do talk a lot about those two animals, even though they are found in only a tiny percentage of today’s grasslands.

This presents a conundrum, doesn’t it?  Bison and prairie dogs are two of our most charismatic characters.  Talking about prairies without including them would be like talking about the arctic without mentioning polar bears or penguins.  (That was a test, of course, and you passed because you know penguins don’t live in the northern hemisphere.  Well, except in the Galapagos, but those are kind of the exceptions that prove the rule, aren’t they?  Good work.)

You get my point, though, right?

Unfortunately, the prairies most accessible to the majority of North Americans don’t have either prairie dogs or bison.  So, why do we keep using those two icons to sell people on prairies?  If my local zoo had photos of pandas on their signs, I’d expect to see pandas when I visited.  When I arrived and found out pandas weren’t actually there, I’d probably turn around and leave.  We don’t want that to happen with prairies.  Prairies are incredible, complex, and beautiful ecosystems with or without bison and prairie dogs.

The Nature Conservancy’s Bluestem Prairie Scientific and Natural Area in Minnesota. This is an incredible prairie, despite not having either prairie dogs or bison.

Let’s diversify our prairie iconography.  It’s not like we’re short on choices, but we should be thoughtful about our decisions. 

I often see rare butterflies like regal fritillaries featured in prairie-related media.  Lately, the rusty patch bumblebee has been prominently displayed and discussed in conjunction with many Midwestern prairies.  Here’s the problem.  Most people aren’t going to see a rusty patch bumblebee or regal fritillary when they visit their local prairie. 

We should absolutely talk about prairies and their value to regals, rusty patches and other increasingly rare insects.  At the same time, though, why can’t we also talk about intriguing prairie species people can see in just about any prairie?  Rare species are important, but, by definition, it’s hard to find them.  There are plenty of common prairie species we can highlight, and all of them have fantastic natural history stories.

People like birds, right?  Let’s talk about red-winged blackbirds!  Sure, they’re also associated with wetlands, but I see them in lots of prairies – often right off the side of the road where they’re easy to watch.  Dickcissels are another great choice.  They like hanging out in smaller prairies with a lot of tall wildflowers.  That describes a lot of the prairie habitat closest to our largest human populations in the Midwest and Great Plains. 

Dickcissels would (I assume) be proud to be symbols of prairies. They’re long-distance migrants with a fascinating story. More importantly, people can easily find and watch them in just about any prairie across the Midwest and Great Plains.

Both of those birds have obvious territorial behaviors we can describe to people, so they know what to watch and listen for when they see them.  We can talk about their migration patterns, their diet, their songs, and lots more.  If you live in a place where you don’t have red-winged blackbirds or dickcissels, surely there are other bird species that hang out in most of your prairies.  Pick a couple and promote them!

Wildflowers like black-eyed Susans, sunflowers, milkweeds or others can also be great options to highlight.  We have to be a little careful about timing, since they don’t bloom all season, but it’s not hard to list a few common wildflowers people might see at different times of year and talk about why they’re fascinating.  Using plants people might know from their own yards or neighborhoods can be a big help.  Seeing familiar plants in a new place is kind of like seeing friends when you arrive at a party – it provides an instant feeling of comfort and reassurance.

Black-eyed Susans are one of our best known wildflowers. People like having them in their yards. Why not remind people that they can also see them in their favorite local prairie?

Obviously, we’re not short on invertebrate options.  We don’t have to pick individual species, either.  Grasshoppers and katydids, for example, are easy to spot.  Pointing out that there are lots of different species – each with their own color patterns – can give people a reason to go look for them and keep exploring after they see their first one. Butterflies and moths fit the same criteria (easy to see and full of variety). 

All those insects have incredible life history stories people can dig into and learn about.  Plus, in both grasshoppers/katydids and butterflies/moths, people can look at the antennae to see which is which.  (Grasshoppers have short antennae and katydids have really long ones.  Butterflies have little knobs at the end of their antennae and moths don’t.)

Grasshoppers and their cousins (katydids and crickets) represent some of the easiest insects to find in prairies but they’re also a wonderfully diverse and beautiful group of insects with great natural history stories to talk about.

Anyway, you get the point.  These are just a few quick examples among many available to us.

Is it really hurting prairie conservation efforts to rely so much upon prairie dogs and bison as our ambassadors?  I don’t think it’s our biggest conservation concern, but I do worry about it.  It feels like we’re living in the past a little bit, and trying to sell people on a kind of prairie ideal that doesn’t really exist. 

None of this means we shouldn’t continue working on bison and prairie dog conservation efforts.  It’d be great to see both those species in more places, both for their own sake and because they really are a great draw for getting people to come visit grasslands.  In the places where it makes sense, let’s keep pushing forward.

At the same time, there’s no reason we can’t also promote some other prairie ambassadors to draw people to the prairies near their homes.  By picking common plants and animals and highlighting their stories, we give people opportunities to find and build relationships with local prairie species.  If we do it right, people will be excited to come to our party and feel welcome and comfortable when they arrive.

Hubbard Fellowship Post – Kees Catches Lightning (Bugs) in a Bottle

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Today’s post is written (and illustrated) by Hubbard Fellow Kees Hood. Kees (pronounced “Case”) came to Nebraska from the Los Angeles, California area. He brought with him a strong interest in grasslands and an even stronger curiosity about the prairies east of the Rocky Mountains.

This past summer, whenever anyone has asked about the Hubbard Fellowship, I’ve inevitably found some reason to steer the conversation to fireflies. My home state of California lacks the mass firefly displays common east of the Rockies, instead being home to a diversity of cryptic flashless or solitary ground-flashing species. The first firefly at PRP began displaying June 12, a lone, blinking light outside my window. Within several weeks, this had built into a spectacular twilight performance, with thousands emerging at dusk to outshine the stars for a few brilliant hours.

I spent many midsummer nights out on the prairie watching fireflies, much to the delight of the local mosquito population. If you watch them carefully, you’ll quickly discover that there is more than one “firefly” – a fact that surprises most people I talk to. Male fireflies have distinctive flash patterns that can be used to differentiate species. Females, watching from the ground or nearby vegetation, pass judgment in a classic case of sexual selection. An adult firefly only has a few weeks to mate, so they must make every night count.

Male Photinus pyralis on some side oats grama. Photo by Kees Hood.

The show begins with the common eastern firefly, Photinus pyralis, that gives a burst of light while flying upward in a “J” motion, hence their nickname  – “big dippers”. They begin about 30 minutes after the sun goes down, when the sky is still fairly bright. Their displays build in intensity before fading out about an hour later. If you’re near a shrubby area, the smallest firefly on the Platte, Photinus curtatus, joins the show with little blinks every 3-5 seconds. It flies within and around shrubby thickets for a short 20-30 minutes before retiring for the night, making it easy to miss.

Photinus curtatus, the little gray firefly. Photo by Kees Hood.

The next act occurs on the edges of wetlands. Two species in the genus Photuris explode into a flashing symphony. One flashes every 2 seconds in a consistent, continuous pattern. The other looses 4-6 rapid flashes in quick succession, roughly every 5 seconds. Along wooded edges, ghostly, hovering lights become brighter over a few seconds before shutting off only to reappear several seconds later. The show becomes more difficult to follow. Hungry female Photuris imitate the females of other fireflies species, luring males to their death and using the extra nutrients for reproduction. By an hour and a half after sunset, the Photuris are at their peak, but the Photinus have begun to fade. The males that fly late into the night seem to fly increasingly erratically, confusing the novice firefly observer. The main show is over by midnight, but stragglers may continue until dawn on warm, humid nights.

Male Photuris firefly, species unknown. Photo by Kees Hood.
Fireflies at the Platte River Prairies on June 22, 2024. If the video link doesn’t work, click on the title of this post to open it online.

We know shockingly little about fireflies, especially in Nebraska. There are several reasons for this. They spend most of their 1-2 year lives as larvae living in leaf litter and soil. This makes them hard to find and almost impossible to study in the wild until they emerge as flashing adults. Many species(especially the genus Photuris) are remarkably hard to tell apart physically. A firefly expert who visited the Platte this past summer recommended against using physical features for the identification of Photuris.

Further complicating identification is the presence of many undescribed species – the riparian rapid flashing species found on the Platte, Niobrara, and Republican rivers potentially being one of them. Ranges for described species are poorly defined. A pinned specimen cannot preserve a flash pattern, and the limited number of firefly experts can only be in so many places at once. Firefly abundance and diversity decreases with aridity, and the Great Plains has received far less firefly research attention than the more speciose southeast.

Top view of another unidentified Photuris firefly showing off its dramatic coloration. Photo by Kees Hood.

There is a widespread perception among scientists and the public that fireflies have been on the decline, a trend that is both difficult to confirm and understand due to a lack of data. The factors implicated in insect declines generally- habitat loss, modern pesticide use, and light pollution – are probably contributing. Beyond these issues, we don’t really have a great idea why they’re declining or how to protect them.

The greatest diversity and density of fireflies are associated with wet meadows and riparian habitat along the Platte. At the Platte River Prairies they appear to be just as abundant in restored wet meadows and prairie as they are in remnant areas, suggesting that protecting and restoring these habitats is a good place for firefly conservation to start.

Fireflies are illustrative of what draws me, and I think many others, to the natural world. There is so much to know about any given species, so much we don’t know, and so much we may never know. Rabbit holes are everywhere in ecology, and you may fall into any given one for a lifetime and feel like you’ve barely scratched the surface.