What does good grassland habitat look like? Tall, dense vegetation? Lots of wildflowers? Sun-exposed places where animals can warm up on a cool, dewy morning? Overhead cover, but low density vegetation along the ground so small creatures can move around quickly and easily?

Yes.

Each of those habitat types supports a particular set of animals and plants. By including all of them (and others) in a single block of prairie, all those plant and animal species will have a place to thrive. When lots of habitats are available, a site has strong habitat heterogeneity.

Scientists have recognized the strong tie between habitat heterogeneity and species diversity since the early 1960s. Because of that link, heterogeneity is a good focus for land managers. It’s hard to go out and count all the different species of plants, animals, and other organisms each year to see how they’re doing. It’s a lot easier to see if there’s a nice range of habitat available across the site. (You should still track species diversity if you can, though, since other factors can affect it besides just habitat heterogeneity.)

Species diversity is important for its own sake, but also because it’s a crucial component of a prairie’s resilience. Ecological resilience is the ability of an ecosystem to flex, adapt, and survive events such as droughts, floods, intensive grazing, fire, and more. Resilience relies on two main factors. One is the size and connectivity of grassland habitat. The second is species diversity, which helps ensure prairies have the ‘bench strength‘ to maintain essential processes, no matter which species are having good or bad years.

Variation of available habitat types across space is important, but the timing of that availability also matters. If wildlife species are going to benefit from their favored habitat structure, those conditions have to exist long enough to be relevant. When an animal selects a promising location to raise a family, for example, it’s relying on that habitat to stay relatively similar during that crucial child-rearing period. If the plants in that area are burned, hayed, grazed too hard, or even grow too quickly, the animal and its family may end up struggling to survive in suboptimal habitat.

However, if habitat structure remains the same year after year, that’s not good either. Any kind of habitat structure, as well as the means used to create it (fire, grazing, haying, etc.), will favor a certain suite of animal and plant species. Many animals can move around to find what they want, but plants (and some animals) aren’t very good at that. Less mobile species that aren’t well suited to available habitat conditions can eventually disappear if everything remains static. That can reduce species diversity and, in turn, ecological resilience.

In addition, static habitats may create problems if populations of some species grow to the point where they start harming others. Disease organisms, for example, can grow in abundance under static conditions. Predators, which play essential roles in ecosystems, can become extra proficient at locating prey if those prey are always in the same spot.

What we’re really looking for, then, is a kind of shifting mosaic of habitats. We want all of the possible habitat conditions to exist within a block of prairie, but to shift in location over time. That helps plant species survive because they’ll each get their favorite growing conditions every few years. Animals can either move around to find the most suitable habitat or – like plants – hunker down until it comes back around to them.

The weedy habitat in the upland sandpiper photo shown earlier was the result of a full season of intensive grazing during the previous year. The long-term grazing reduced the competitiveness of perennial grasses. That kept grasses short and allowed ‘weeds’ to grow taller during the year after grazing. The result was perfect brood-rearing cover for that young upland sandpiper, as well as great habitat for many other species – including lots of insects.

That post-grazing habitat type, though, is ephemeral. The year after that photo was taken, grasses grew tall and dense again in that same location. That means new grazing treatments have to be implemented in different spots each year to make sure there are always patches of grazed, recovering, and recovered habitat available somewhere.

Grazing animals don’t fit in every situation, especially when prairies are small. In fact, creating habitat heterogeneity in any form becomes challenging in small prairies. There’s often not enough room to create a range of habitat patch types that are each large enough to be useful to the species that need them. However, in prairies where grazing is desirable and feasible, a big world of options opens up.

A shifting mosaic of habitats can be created in lots of ways with grazers. Patch-burn grazing and the open-gate grazing we’ve been experimenting with are just two of many approaches that can do a great job. Cattle or bison can graze an area for long enough to suppress some plants and favor others, while also manipulating vegetation structure. One of the advantages of patch-burn or open-gate grazing is that long periods of grazing and long periods of rest mean each habitat condition created lasts a relevant time period. Those long grazing bouts also help ensure strong temporary suppression of perennial grasses and a nice proliferation of short-lived plants.

If grazing isn’t an option, an alternative can be repeated mowing, especially in smaller sites. Mowing the same spot several times during a season can have somewhat similar suppression effects on dominant plants. You lose the selectivity displayed by grazers, but you can incorporate some of that variability by skipping small areas each time you mow. A little creativity can go a long way.

Late last week, I spent a morning at one of our Platte River Prairies sites where we’re experimenting with open-gate grazing. I flew the drone and got the photos shown earlier, which highlight the habitat heterogeneity of the prairie very nicely. While I was there, I also walked through all four habitat types and took photos with my favorite spade to show the variation in habitat structure across space. These images show the same four habitat patches displayed in the aerial photos, but from a different perspective.

While I was on site, I also took time to visit two photo points where I’ve been taking repeated photographs since May of 2022. We’re playing with a design idea in which I use a metal frame that slides into another metal structure buried in the ground (thanks to Booker Moritz for building the frame). The frame allows me to take photos from the same exact location without having to leave behind a structure that cattle will rub on. I can also take photos from both a four-foot and one-foot height. That provides two different perspectives on the vegetation structure.

The photopoint frame means I can show you how the habitat in a particular location has changed through time. I’ve only got three seasons of images so far, but I plan to continue this for the foreseeable future. Today, I’m only showing you early August photos from one location. On August 4, 2022, this site had been rested for most of two years and cattle were just coming in to graze it (along with another pasture that they’d already been grazing). By the following summer (August 7, 2023), cattle had grazed the site hard for a full year and remained there through the fall.

When I visited on August 1, 2024, the site had been sitting idle all season, recovering from prior grazing. For most of the summer, grass growth was stunted and numerous short-lived plants, including big patches of velvety gaura (Gaura parviflora) and others were abundant. Perennial wildflowers also had a good year, including large populations of wild bergamot (Monarda fistulosa), stiff goldenrod (Solidago rigida), purple prairie clover (Dalea purpurea), and many more.

I’m sharing three short slide shows (three slides each) below that show what the site looked like in August 2022, August 2023, and August 2024. If the slide shows don’t work for you, click on the title of this post to open it online and get full function.

The slideshow above shows the same location photographed from a four-foot height and a one-foot height. The two slideshows below isolate each of those perspectives more clearly (four-foot first and then the one-foot height in the last slideshow).

The one foot high perspective helps show how most animal species probably view vegetation structure. The difference between 2022 and 2023 is stark, and you can see how the experience of living in and moving through habitat can change dramatically based on management. The structure in 2024 was pretty tall by August, but for most of the season, vegetation was relatively short and sparse. Strong rains helped speed up the process of plants growing back.

Also, the dominant wildflower species in front of the camera switched from Maximilian sunflower in 2022 to wild bergamot in 2024. I’m really curious to see how the perennial sunflower responds next year. It is super abundant in another part of the prairie that is in its second year of rest (see the big yellow splotches in the aerial photos), so I know the species can handle periods of hard grazing. We’ll see what next year’s photos show in this particular spot. It should be interesting.

We still have a lot to learn about how to steward the diversity and resilience of prairies. What works in one place doesn’t always translate elsewhere. At both the Niobrara Valley Preserve and Platte River Prairies, our staff is constantly working to develop and test new ideas. We learn something every year and try to share those lessons with anyone who is interested. Hopefully, our efforts can combine with others around the continent and globe and help all of us adapt and grow in our ability to keep prairies healthy and vibrant.

I made two early morning trips to the Platte River Prairies last week to catch the sunrise and explore with my camera. We’re in the early stages of the late summer yellow phase of those prairies. Three of our sunflower species are in full bloom, including one perennial (stiff sunflower) and two annual species (garden sunflower and plains sunflower). Three other perennial sunflowers are just beginning to open their flowers as well (Maximilian and sawtooth sunflowers, as well as Jerusalem artichoke).

Missouri goldenrod has been yellow for several weeks, but is now being joined by its cousins, including Canada, giant, and stiff goldenrod. Black-eyed Susans, upright prairie coneflower, buffalo bur, fabulous oxeye, and other yellow-flowered plants are in the latter stages of their blooming period, but still around. The prairie is dressed to the nines right now and most of its favorite accessories are yellow.

There are many other colors in the late summer prairie, of course, and lots of texture. Flowers of white, blue, purple, and other hues are scattered throughout the scenery. Most of the grasses in the prairie have bloomed by now, as well – some much earlier in the season and others just getting going. Most of those flowers are on tall skinny stems, adding a lot of vertical lines to the prairie canvas.

Ok, that’s enough of me sounding like an amateur poet. The thing is, this is a pretty spectacular time of year to be in the prairie. Ungrazed prairie can be tall and woolly enough that I have to deploy my ‘tallgrass gait’ to avoid being repeatedly slapped in the face by grasses and wildflowers. I’m sure every prairie enthusiast has their own version of the gait, but mine involves each foot making an outward-circling (wax off) motion as I push it forward. That does a pretty good job of moving the vegetation out of the way just long enough for my face to pass through before it closes in again behind me.

Personally, I find myself spending most of my time exploring sites that are currently being grazed, or – even better – recovering from last year’s grazing. Those sites are easier to walk through because the vegetation is less tall and dense. Plus, the recovery patches tend to have the most wildflower and insect abundance, which is helpful in my macro photography efforts.

Most of the photos shown here were taken within those recovery patches, except for the photos of cattle. Those were taken in patches that are being actively grazed. You probably would have figured that out on your own.

All the photos above, along with the next several, were taken in a patch of prairie I planted back in 2000. I used an old EZEE-Flow ‘drop spreader’ machine to plant the grass seed, but broadcast all the wildflower seed by hand. I did that as I drove back and forth on an ATV with a bucket hanging off the handle bars. It took a couple days to plant all 60 acres and my shoulders were really sore by the end – both from tossing seed and from driving one-handed.

The memory of that effort surely colors my appreciation of the site today, but it really is a special patch of prairie, even from an unbiased perspective. As I said in my last post, I get a lot of gratification from prairie restoration work, and this planting happened as I was starting to feel confident in what I was doing. It also happened at the beginning of a 5-year drought, so the establishment was slow and agonizing, making the eventual success even more meaningful.

Good grief. I sound old, huh?

Apropos of nothing, here’s a quick trick for photographing flat prairie landscapes, in case you’re interested. The photo above was taken with my camera just above the top of the stiff goldenrod in the foreground. The horizon behind is mostly visible, emphasizing its flatness and the vegetation looks like it’s all the same height. Meh.

The photo below was taken with the same plant in the foreground, but the camera was moved about a foot lower. Now the prairie looks more like it really is – a mixture of heights and textures. The horizon is broken up by the plants poking above the grass canopy, which makes the scene feel much more as it felt to me at the time (beautiful and diverse). It’s also more like the way most inhabitants of the prairie see it, which seems right.

The photo below shows another longhorned bee that spent the night perched on a flower. Since most bees are solitary (not social, with queen, workers, etc.), and only the females make themselves nests and bring food to the eggs they’ve laid there, males don’t have a sheltered tunnel to sleep in overnight. As a result, they just find a spot to hang out all night. This time of year, they are often covered with thick dew by morning, making them easy photo subjects.

The next photo shows a big black bull, which, along with the rest of the herd, was grazing part of the restored prairie. The taller prairie vegetation from the earlier photos is just behind the bull, but you can’t see it because of the angle of the photograph (taken while I was lying on the ground). The cattle were grazing this particular patch of prairie because it was hayed earlier in the summer, creating an area of lush, nutritious regrowth.

Cody, our Platte River Prairies Preserve Manager, is using that hayed patch much like we use fire in our patch-burn grazing and the cattle are following the pattern very nicely. The hayed area is getting lots of grazing because of that nutritious regrowth, maintaining short habitat structure for the plants and animals that want that. Despite the cattle having access to it, the unhayed area is largely ungrazed. It’s fairly tall, but not as tall as it will be next year when the grasses have had another year to fully regain their vigor from being previously burned and grazed.

There’s another patch – burned last summer – within the same pasture. It’s fun and messy, but I didn’t get over there before the sun got too bright for good photography. I’m only one man. I can only do so much.

On Saturday morning, I woke up early and decided to go catch the sunrise again. This time, I went to a different site we’d burned last summer. It got grazed pretty hard late last summer and somewhat earlier this year. Cody created a new burn patch this spring that pulled a lot of the grazing off the summer burn, though, which is speeding its recovery along. I was curious to see what it looked like.

By the way, ‘recovery’ isn’t really the right word. The prairies aren’t injured or anything, it’s just that the grass vigor has been weakened and that leads to a pulse of wildflowers that ordinarily struggle to compete with full-strength grasses. I need to come up with a better term to describe that period. Post-grazing flower party, maybe? I’ll keep working on it.

Anyway, I arrived in time to catch the sun breaking the horizon and used some big patches of stiff sunflower as foreground for photos. The prairie hasn’t ever been plowed, as far as we can tell, but we’ve overseeded it with some plant species that were missing because of a ‘difficult history’ of management before we acquired it about 20 years ago. Stiff sunflower is one of the species that has established well from that overseeding, though it’s still patchy in occurrence.

I was having a lot of fun with the sunflowers and sunrise, which led to me taking way too many photos. Too many, because it created some difficult decisions about which ones to show here. I promise these three are all different from each other, though the overall feel is very similar. It was an absolutely gorgeous morning.

Maximilian sunflower was starting to bloom along the edge of a big slough, so I used it as a foreground, too. Sometimes, I put the sun on the left side of the sunflower. Other times, I put the sun on the right. Variety is the spice of life.

Here’s one more photo (below) of the Maximilian sunflower patch. All these were taken with a telephoto lens (100-400mm lens) to get the sun to look big. It looked big in real life, too, but without a longer focal length lens, it wouldn’t have appeared that way in the images.

After most of the color left the horizon, I switched to a wide angle lens and played around with another stiff sunflower patch. Similar to the guidance I shared above, I made sure my camera was below the height of the flowers, making the images more interesting and letting the viewer feel like they were in the prairie instead of just seeing it from above. I don’t want to give you the impression I invented this technique, by the way. I’m just passing it along in case you’ve not heard of it. No one has a patent on the idea of holding your camera a little lower when you take a photo. At least, I hope not.

Pretty soon, the sun had risen high enough that the light was getting bright and the contrast tricky to deal with. I realized I hadn’t really photographed the actual prairie much (just sunflowers), so I turned around, put the sun to the my side, and tried to capture photos of the grassland around me. This was the patch we burned in the summer of 2023, so I was pleased to see both good numbers of wildflowers, along with grass that looked like it was regaining its vigor.

Before I lost the light altogether, I wanted to do a little insect photography, so when I came across a couple male wasps on big bluestem, I switched to my macro lens. Shortly after that, I spotted a buckeye butterfly. I got a couple photos of it before it flew off. Then, I stalked it for a few minutes and I got a couple more photos of it on its next two perches. I left it alone after that because it was clearly trying to soak up the warmth of the sun and it felt mean to keep shifting it around.

As I was leaving the prairie, I stopped to say hi to the cows and check out this spring’s burn patch. This is the area the cows have been hitting the hardest, but even so, the grazing was pretty patchy. Coming out of a couple years of drought, Cody had reduced stocking rates for this year. Then, of course, the rains came, the vegetation has exploded, and we don’t have enough cattle to keep it all cropped down in the burned patches. Nothing wrong with that, but we don’t have the big expanse of short habitat we’d normally have.

The photo below shows the patchy nature of the grazing in this spring’s burn patch. Some of it is being grazed short, but there aren’t enough cows to graze the whole burn patch short. This area is part of a low-diversity grass planting from before we owned the property, so plant diversity isn’t great, but there are at least some big yellow-flowered plants like Maximilian sunflower and some goldenrods.

Just as I was ready to hop in the truck to head home, the cows came up close to say hi. I took a photo of a calf with its colleagues behind it. I took several rapid-fire shots. Just as I started, it stuck its tongue out and made me laugh. I don’t think it was being goofy on purpose, of course, but it sure seemed similar to a kid trying to ruin family picture day!

It’s always worth getting up for sunrise, but this time of year might be the best of all for an early morning prairie walk. There’s usually dew to help slow and highlight invertebrates, and the morning wind speed is often low. That, mixed with the abundant color and varied habitat structure of late summer prairies makes it a pretty spectacular experience. I hope you can get out and see a prairie sunrise soon!