I’m Always Glad I Went Out

I don’t ever plan to write an autobiography, but if I do, the title might very well be, “I Was Always Glad I Went Out”. And, of course, it will sell badly because that’s not a very catchy title for a book. Plus, no one wants to hear about my childhood.

Although it’s a terrible book title, it really is something I feel whenever I kick myself out out of the house and into the prairie. Yesterday was a great example. I had the day off because of the federal holiday (The Nature Conservancy gives us federal holidays off, even though we are not a government agency). I woke up and wasn’t sure what to do with myself. Eventually, I decided I really just needed to go somewhere and things would fall into place. That was a smart call.

The part of the prairie grazed throughout 2025 is on the left and the part grazed throughout 2024 (and rested in 2025) is on the right.

I headed out to our family prairie. I wanted to scout some possibilities for a potential future project, but that was really just the excuse I used to talk myself into the trip. When I arrived, I explored happily, mostly in the part of the prairie that had been grazed all of last year and where the vegetation was extremely short. It was a warm enough morning (mid-50s Fahrenheit) that I hoped to find a few insects moving around, even in mid February, and I haven’t had a lot of opportunities for bug photography lately!

The grass was REALLY short from last year’s grazing.
Black medic (the green in the foreground) was one of a number of plants that were already greening up.

You might remember a recent post with a lot of photos I took in part of our prairie during its first year of rest after a year of intensive grazing. The area I was in yesterday will go through a similar process during the coming year, but right now, it’s just really short with a lot of exposed bare ground. I figured the exposed bare ground would make finding insects easy – both because they like soaking in the sunlight and because there’s not much to hide them from my eyes (other than their incredible camouflage and tiny size, of course).

As it happened, I did find a fair number of insects, but I also found plenty of other sights and sounds to catch my attention. The sounds were mostly flocks of migratory snow geese that crisscrossed the sky above me, shouting to each other about something or other. A group of winter meadowlarks flew past as well, but they were just moving from one part of our prairie to another and weren’t nearly as noisy about it.

The first sight that caught my eye was a couple of badger burrows. As I walked, I saw more and more – at least a couple dozen in total. I estimated there were maybe 2 per acre, and that’s likely an underestimate. Coincidentally, I’d just recently received a reply to an email I’d sent to a badger researcher asking about burrows. I’d wanted to confirm that most of the digging activity we see in prairies is from hunting, not necessarily for the purpose of making an overnight sleeping spot. The researcher confirmed my assumption, but also agreed with my guess that the badgers probably did end up sleeping for a night in at least some of those burrows, especially since they’d already gone through the excavation work anyway.

One of many badger burrows in the grazed area.

I’ve noticed before that badgers like to dig around in areas of short vegetation, but I’m not sure I’ve ever seen quite the same burrow density as I saw yesterday. Looking across the road, it looked like there were quite a few in the neighbor’s soybean field, too. (Interestingly, I felt a little betrayed by the badger(s?) when I saw that. Isn’t that ridiculous? I thought, “Hey, why are OUR badgers going to the neighbor’s?? Our little prairie isn’t good enough for them?”)

I’m pretty sure the reason there are so many badger burrows in recently-grazed sites, by the way, is because that’s favored habitat for thirteen-lined ground squirrels, which are often considered badgers’ favorite prey. The ground squirrels like the short habitat and dig their little burrows all over in it. That makes it easy for the badgers, who show up and dig their much bigger burrows in the same spot – digging right down to the ground squirrels and catching/eating them. It’s a terrific strategy, but must be a terrifying way for the ground squirrels to end their lives.

I’m pretty sure this is thirteen-lined ground squirrel activity. And some dried cow manure. This ground squirrel burrow hasn’t yet been dug up by badgers. It’s probably either a lucky ground squirrel or an empty burrow.

Speaking of small mammals, I saw additional evidence that they, and/or other small vertebrates, had been active. In particular, I found a single kernel of corn on the ground, maybe 100 yards from the nearest corn field, and a little cache of soybeans in a different place – again, maybe 100 yards from the closest soybean field. The corn kernel could have been carried there by a number of different animals, I suppose, but I’d guess either a bird or mouse (or maybe a ground squirrel?). The collection of soybeans, though, definitely looked like something only a small mammal would make. I’ve seen similar caches before, but still don’t know which species might be making them. Any small mammal experts out there?

Kernel of corn in the middle of the prairie.
A cache of soybeans collected by some animal who either forgot about them or just hasn’t eaten them yet.

I did find invertebrates, too. They weren’t easy to spot, even with all the bare ground, but I laid down on a few south-facing hill sides where I guessed bugs would get some nice warm sun, and waited until I saw movement. I managed to see and photograph a handful of grasshoppers. Well, not exactly a handful, since they were all very tiny nymphs, but I did see 4-5 of them. They looked different from each other, but I’ve learned enough about grasshoppers to know that differing appearance doesn’t mean they were different species.

Especially among grasshopper nymphs, appearance can sometimes vary quite a bit from individual to individual, and even more between nymphal stages – even within the same species. As a result, the three individuals featured below might very well be all the same species. (The first two photos are different shots of the same individual, which was about 3/4 of an inch long. The second two were two other individuals which were both less than half an inch in length.)

Grasshopper nymph, side view.
The same grasshopper nymph, front view.
A different grasshopper nymph.
Yet another grasshopper nymph.

Many invertebrates (along with some frogs and other vertebrates) have the ability to freeze solid during the cold winter months and then reanimate when it warms back up. I’ve known and marveled at that for a long time, but yesterday, I realized I still had unanswered questions. Primarily, why is that we can put insects in the freezer to kill them (during research data collection efforts, for example) and they don’t reanimate? What’s the difference between that and the kind of freezing they do during very cold winters?

As I often do, I took advantage of having met a lot of smart people during my career, and sent off an email to a few entomologists to ask for an explanation. So far, I’ve only heard back from one of them, so I may have to update this later. The first response, from Mathew Brust, gave me a couple possible explanations. One is that many insects (and other invertebrates) find insulated spots for overwintering – often in leaf litter or in underground burrows. That doesn’t keep them from freezing, but does keep them a lot warmer than if they were just sitting in an exposed spot. The temperature difference between a sheltered and unsheltered spot can be surprisingly stark, and could easily be the difference between life and death. It could very well prevent insects from getting as cold as the the zero degrees F many of our freezers are set at.

A second possibility, though, is that invertebrates can handle cold temperatures much more easily when the temperature change is fairly gradual. If they have time to adjust, their bodies might be able to handle much colder temperatures than if the temperature goes from, say, 80 degrees F to 0 degrees F within a few minutes. That quick and drastic shift might be too much for invertebrates to handle.

Matt also sent me a recent video by Travis McEnery, which explores the ways spiders can survive winter temperatures. You can watch it at this link, if you like. The video does a great job of explaining how the “blood” (hemolymph) of spiders and invertebrates is often formulated in a way that it doesn’t freeze solid until temperatures get far below those that freeze water. There’s a lot more to it, but I’m not going to try to explain it all here.

A really tiny juvenile wolf spider – about 1/4 inch in length.

Another reason (covered by the McEnery video) spiders and insects can handle winter temperatures might tie both Matt’s suggestions together. In at least some invertebrates, their bodies change throughout the year, and in places that have cold winter, invertebrate bodies develop a tolerance to cold (related to the composition of their hemolymph, for example) only when day lengths shorten during the colder times of year. In other words, they’re not adapted to freezing temperatures during our summer research work but they are by the time winter comes around.

Of course, there’s a difference between sheltering in place during cold temperatures and staying active in cold temperatures. Most invertebrates do the former, at least when it’s really cold, but others keep moving around. If you spend a lot of time outdoors in the winter and keep your eyes open for little invertebrates at the same time (and doesn’t everyone?) you may have noticed a surprising amount of activity, even on snow and ice. I often see juvenile wolf spiders, for example (like the one pictured above) on the snow, and have seen them moving around even when temperatures were well below freezing. Springtails (Collembola), aka snow fleas, provide another example of species that seem to do just fine running around when it seems way too cold for that kind of silliness.

Apart from seeing all those animals and conjecturing about their behavior, I also looked at a lot of plants. Some grasses and sedges were starting to green up already, which isn’t unusual, but this warm winter might have them a little ahead of most years. In addition, a number of forbs (broad leaved plants) were also growing. Some were perennials, regrowing from underground buds, and others were brand new plants (probably mostly annuals and biennials).

Cudweed sage, aka white sage (Artemisia ludoviciana).
A new seedling that I couldn’t identify at this early stage.
I’m guessing this is a perennial goldenrod or aster, but I’m not confident.

The most abundant green forb in the heavily grazed site was black medic, which is a non-native legume that always responds well to grazing. We often see flushes in abundance (and/or blooming) of this species in the year following grazing events that create a lot of space and sunlight. Because I’ve conducted annual vegetation surveys throughout the last couple decades, I’ve gotten to see this over and over. Dense vegetation and a lot of thatch (layer of dead vegetation) can kill off the short-lived medic plants beneath it, or, in some cases, it just causes them to shrink down to just a few small leaves. After grazing removes that thatch and reduces the competitive ability of neighboring plants, though, medic can quickly grow and bloom profusely – both from seed and from the little plants just hanging on to life.

There was a lot of black medic, which looked like it had greened up and then frozen again multiple times through the winter.

So, once again, my adage held true. I went out, not sure if there would be anything interesting to see, and I returned with a mind full of observations and questions. Even in mid-February, when prairies are supposed to be dormant (and thus particularly boring), it was a great morning.

I’m always glad when I go out.

A Milestone for Prairie Restoration

Because conservation work can sometimes seem like blowing into the wind, it’s important to pause periodically to celebrate progress.  For example, I am really excited about what has been accomplished in the field of prairie restoration.  We’ve known for a while that we can convert cropland to prairie vegetation with a high diversity of plant species (150 or more species per planting), and that we can do that on a scale of thousands of acres.  The Nature Conservancy has large projects in states like Indiana, Illinois, and Minnesota where restored prairie landscapes now range from about 5,000 to 20,000 acres in size.  The U.S. Forest Service is transforming an old U.S. Army Arsenal into 20,000 acres of prairie in Illinois.  Prairie Plains Resource Institute, the organization that pioneered restoration techniques in Nebraska, is planting up to 1000 acres a year now and has established well over 10,000 acres total across the state.

Our staff celebrates a successful year of seed harvest back in 2015.

Our staff celebrates a successful year of seed harvest back in 2015.

Here in our Platte River Prairies, we’ve restored more than 1,500 acres of cropland to prairie.  That’s not insignificant, but more importantly, we’ve been testing the idea that those restored prairies can help defragment the ecological landscape around them.  Habitat fragmentation is one of the largest threats to today’s prairies because it shrinks and isolates populations of species, making them vulnerable to becoming locally extinct without the chance of recolonization from nearby sites.  The real promise of prairie restoration is that it can enlarge and reconnect scattered remnants of native prairie, providing populations of animals and plants a much better opportunity to survive and thrive.  It’s not feasible or desirable to convert the majority of cropland in the central North America back to prairie, but there are particular sites where strategic restoration work could make a huge difference in the potential survival of prairie species and ecological services.

In order for prairie restoration to help defragment landscapes, restored prairies have to provide suitable habitat for the species living in small isolated prairies.  Many bees and other insects specialize on certain plant species, for example, and other animals rely upon an abundance of prey, a diversity of seeds, or other particular food or habitat conditions.  Satisfying the individual needs of all those prairie animals is a critical measure of success if prairie restoration is going to successfully stitch isolated prairies back together.

Over the last several years, we’ve been collecting data to see whether the species of bees, small mammals, grasshoppers, and ants in our unplowed prairie remnants have moved into adjacent restored habitat.  The results have been very positive.  While not every species of animal living in our remnant prairies has been found in nearby restored habitat, we’ve found the vast majority of those we’ve looked for.  We suspect that most of the remaining species are also present but that our limited sampling effort just hasn’t yet picked them up.  We’ll keep trying.

Dillon Blankenship, a Hubbard Fellow, compared grasshopper, katydid, and tree cricket communities on three pairs of remnant/restored prairies back in 2014. Almost all species were present in both restored and remnant habitats. In the three species that weren't, only one or a very few individuals were found, so it's likely just a sample size issue.

Dillon Blankenship, a Hubbard Fellow, sampled grasshopper, katydid, and tree cricket communities on three pairs of remnant/restored prairies back in 2014. Almost all species were present in both restored and remnant habitats. In the three species that weren’t, only one or a very few individuals were found, so it’s likely just a sample size issue.

Data from James Trager and Kristine Nemec has helped us compare ant species composition in restored versus restored prairies along the Platte River. So far, we've documented 30 species and only one has been found exclusively in remnant prairie (and, again, it's likely to be a sample size issue).

Data from James Trager and Kristine Nemec has helped us compare ant species composition in restored versus restored prairies along the Platte River. So far, we’ve documented 30 species and only one has been found exclusively in remnant prairie (and, again, it’s likely to be a sample size issue).

Master Naturalist Mike Schrad and Hubbard Fellow Jasmine Cutter have both helped us compare small mammal populations between restored and remnant prairies. This table shows some of Jasmine's data from one site. In general, we're finding that the same species are in both restored and remnant prairies, but the relative abundance of those species is often different - with some apparently favoring remnant habitat and others favoring restored areas.

Master Naturalist Mike Schrad and Hubbard Fellow Jasmine Cutter have both helped us compare small mammal populations between restored and remnant prairies. This table is from Jasmine’s data from one site, showing the number of trapsites in which each mammal species was caught back in 2014. In general, we’re finding that the same species are in both restored and remnant prairies, but the relative abundance of those species is often different – with some apparently favoring remnant habitat and others favoring restored areas.  We’re now looking at how our management affects presence and abundance of each species through time.

We've had several research projects look at native bees in our prairies. Mike Arduser, Anne Stine (Hubbard Fellow), Bethany Teeter, and Shelly Wiggam Rickets have all helped us compare restored and remnant prairies. So far, we've found over 72 species and the vast majority have been in both remnant and restored prairie.

We’ve had several research projects look at native bees in our prairies. Mike Arduser, Anne Stine (Hubbard Fellow), Bethany Teeters, and Shelly Wiggam Rickets have all helped us compare restored and remnant prairies. So far, we’ve found over 72 species and the vast majority have been in both remnant and restored prairie.

I've collected more than 15 years of data showing that plant diversity and the frequency of occurrence of prairie plant species has remained stable through time. These four graphs show four species in one restored prairie where we're comparing fire/grazing management to fire only management.

I’ve collected more than 15 years of data showing that plant diversity and the frequency of occurrence of prairie plant species has remained stable through time. These four graphs show four species in one restored prairie where we’re comparing fire/grazing management to fire only management.  The long-term persistence of prairie plants and diverse plant communities is critically important for plant communities, but also for the success of efforts to defragment habitat for animals.

These results mean that where prairie landscapes have been largely converted to row crops, we don’t have to just watch while insect or small mammal populations careen toward local extinction in tiny isolated prairies.  We’ve shown that we can make those prairies larger and more connected, and that animal populations can grow and use new restored habitat and diverse plant communities.  We’ve also shown that restored prairies can sustain their biological diversity for decades, even through periods of intensive grazing and drought.  While there are still plenty of questions and potential improvements we can make, we’re now at the point where society needs to decide whether and where to do this kind of restoration.

I don’t know about you, but I think that’s pretty exciting!

Nebraska and other states in central North America have large swaths of productive and important cropland.  As I said earlier, I’m not advocating that we convert most of that back to prairie.  However, there are specific sites where row crop agriculture is marginally productive/profitable and the long-term interests of both society and local landowners might be best served by putting land back into diverse and productive grassland.  Agricultural policies and subsidy programs will obviously play a huge role in this kind of strategic large-scale restoration, and getting the policies in place to facilitate this kind of common sense restoration will be plenty difficult.  That’s nothing new, however.  What’s new is our confidence that if we can implement targeted restoration work, it can make a real difference to prairie conservation.

Restoring the viability of prairies in fragmented landscapes is critically important to prairie conservation success.  The challenges of conserving species in small isolated prairies are immense, and many of those prairies will continue to see declines in biological diversity and ecological function over time unless we can make them bigger and more connected with other prairies.  Helping to document our ability to do that – at least for many prairie species – has been one of the most satisfying things I’ve done during my career.

 

Important footnote:  Restored prairies are not the same as remnant unplowed prairies.  Soil organic matter levels, for example, can take many decades to recover from tillage, and relationships between plant and microbial communities may take just as long to become reestablished.  Our success in prairie restoration should definitely not be used as justification for plowing up remnant prairie!  However, it’s equally true that prairie restoration efforts aren’t failures just because they can’t create an exact replica of prairie as it existed before it was converted to farmland.  If defragmenting prairie landscapes is the primary goal of restoration, we just need to create restored prairies that complement – not copy – remnant prairies.