A Day in the Bluffs

We spent a long day at our Rulo Bluffs property last week.  The site is at the very southeast corner of Nebraska, and includes about 450 acres of mostly oak/hickory woodland with prairie and savanna habitat on steep ridge tops.  I’ve written before about our work to burn and thin the woodlands to open up the understory layer as a way to encourage higher plant diversity and better wildlife habitat.  Last week, Nelson, our land manager, spent the entire day in a rubber-tracked skidsteer, shredding brush along ridges because we didn’t manage to get a fire  done last fall or this spring.  I got a few overhead photos of his work with our drone.

Nelso Winkel shredding brush with a skidsteer at The Nature Conservancy's Rulo Bluffs Preserve, Nebraska.  Using fire, thinning, and shredding, we are trying to allow more light to hit the ground in the woodland, which enhances oak tree regeneration, increases plant diversity, and improves habitat quality for many wildlife species.

Nelso Winkel shredding brush with a skidsteer at The Nature Conservancy’s Rulo Bluffs Preserve, Nebraska. Using fire, thinning, and shredding, we are trying to allow more light to hit the ground in the woodland, which enhances oak tree regeneration, increases plant diversity, and improves habitat quality for many wildlife species.

This photo shows a ridge where we've been working for more at least 15 years to beat back brush with fire and mechanical treatments.  Nelson didn't have to shred this area this year because the brush is finally starting to give way to more herbaceous plants.

This photo shows a ridge where we’ve been working for more at least 15 years to beat back brush with fire and mechanical treatments. Nelson didn’t have to shred this area this year because the brush is finally starting to give way to more herbaceous plants.

The second image above, taken with our drone, was interesting because it and others from the day showed a surprising number of large dead trees scattered across the property.  We knew we were reducing the number of smaller diameter trees with our thinning and fire work, and that a few bigger trees were also dying, but couldn’t see the real scope of that without being in the air.  (Couldn’t see the forest for the trees…)  While we’re not trying to kill off a large number of big trees, losing some provides space for new oak trees to get started, and provides a number of other benefits – including habitat for the many species that live in standing dead timber.  So, it wasn’t a shock or disappointment to see all the dead trees, it was just an interesting observation we couldn’t have gotten without the ability to get eyes up in the air.

My main job last week was to be on site in case Nelson ran into trouble with the skidsteer.  (That makes it sound like I was there to help fix the skidsteer – nothing could be further from the truth.  Nelson has more mechanical ability in his little finger than I could dream of.  I was just there to go for help in case he rolled the thing down the hill or something.)  While he was doing the real work, I tried to stay productive by pulling garlic mustard, scouting for invasive honeysuckle, and killing small trees with herbicide.  I also managed to find a little time for some photography.  Here are a few of the photos I took.

This is

This is starting to look more like what we want the site to be.  A strong herbaceous (non-woody) plant community, including sedges, grasses, and wildflowers, supports better wildlife diversity and also helps facilitate fire to maintain that open woodland character.

 

These paw paw trees were top-killed in our 2014 prescribed fire. they are regrowing from the base, but aren’t yet tall enough to suppress growth of other plants beneath them.

 

A small bur oak is fighting to establish itself on a prairie ridge as older oaks near the end of their lives.  Both in the woodland and savanna portions of the site, this replacement process is critically important.

A small bur oak is fighting to establish itself on a prairie ridge as older oaks near the end of their lives. Both in the woodland and savanna portions of the site, this replacement process is critically important.

 

These beautiful metallic-looking flies were pretty abundant the day were at the site.  I saw several in the clutches of spiders, but didn't manage to photograph any of those.

These beautiful metallic-looking flies were pretty abundant the day were at the site. I saw several in the clutches of spiders, but didn’t manage to photograph any of those.

A close-up photo of bur oak leaves.

A close-up photo of bur oak leaves.

I'm not sure what species of bug (and it is a true bug) this nymph is, but it sure was striking against the green leaves it was feeding on.  I watched it repeatedly stick its long proboscis into this leaf as it moved across it.

I’m not sure what species of bug (and it is a true bug) this nymph is, but it sure was striking against the green leaves it was feeding on. I watched it repeatedly stick its long proboscis into this leaf as it moved across it.

Eastern redbud (Cercis canadensis) is a beautiful tree.  Both its pink flower and leaves are very attractive.  However, it is also one of the species we are trying to reduce the density of in the understory of the Rulo Bluffs woodland.

Eastern redbud (Cercis canadensis) is a beautiful tree. Both its pink flower and leaves are very attractive. However, it is also one of the species we are trying to reduce the density of in the understory of the Rulo Bluffs woodland.

This beautiful little brown snake was about 10 inches long.  I spotted it  as it was making its way through one of the areas Nelson had just shredded.

This beautiful little brown snake was about 10 inches long. I spotted it as it was making its way through one of the areas Nelson had just shredded.

There are a couple species of raspberries, or close relatives, at Rulo Bluffs, but I don't know what species they are.  This one was particularly beautiful the day we were there.

There are a couple species of raspberries, or close relatives, at Rulo Bluffs, but I don’t know what species they are. This one was particularly beautiful the day we were there.

Because of its long distance from our shop and field headquarters, we never feel like we spend enough time working at Rulo Bluffs.  It’s a beautiful site, and one of the best examples of oak woodland remaining in Nebraska.  As with other oak/hickory woodlands, however, it requires active management in order to survive and regenerate.  Without frequent fire, or substitutes such as thinning and shredding, the understory at Rulo Bluffs would become choked with small trees and shrubs, such as ironwood, dogwood, paw paw, and others.  Those woody understory species block light from hitting the ground, prevent the establishment of new oaks, and choke out most grasses, sedges, and wildflowers.  Eventually, if older oaks die without being replaced, these woodlands change into new communities, dominated by trees such as ash, hackberry, and others that don’t create leaf litter that can carry fire.  At that point, restoring the oak/hickory woodland community, which supports a much larger diversity of plant and animal life, is nearly impossible.

…and that is why we keep trying to find time to head down to Rulo Bluffs.  That, and it’s such a beautiful place.

A Prickly Confrontation

While we were setting up timelapse cameras at the Niobrara Valley Preserve a couple weeks ago, I had an encounter with a creature I’d never seen up close before.  It was evening, and Jeff Dale was driving us down toward the river.  Suddenly, he hit the brakes and backed up, saying he’d seen something up in a tree – maybe a raccoon.  All three of us grabbed cameras and walked up the hill toward a small oak tree with a furry creature up in the branches.

A furry animal in a small bur oak tree.  The light was beautiful - as was the moon.

A furry animal in a small bur oak tree. The light was beautiful – as was the moon.

When we got closer, we realized it wasn’t a raccoon – it was a porcupine!  In my whole life, I’d seen a couple dead porcupines along the road, and a couple trees that had been worked over by porcupines, but I don’t think I’d ever seen a live porcupine before – they’re just not very common in my part of the state.

Once we figured out what it was, Jeff and David graciously let me approach the porcupine first.  (Thinking back now, they may have just been waiting to see if I got a face full of quills…)  The sun was on its way down and the light was beautiful.  I snapped a couple photos as I approached in case it took off, but the porcupine didn’t seem inclined to run, and before long, I ended up right at the base of the tree.  Because the tree was short, I could stand uphill and be at the same elevation as the porcupine.  Face to face, you might say.

However, it’s not accurate to say I was face to face with the porcupine because the porcupine was steadfastly looking away from me.  I suppose that’s the right defensive strategy when your weapons are on your backside, but it made photography kind of a challenge…  If I walked to south side of the tree, the porcupine would look north.  If I walked to the north side, it would look south.  It wasn’t moving quickly, but even if I ran to the other side, it would be looking away by the time I got there.

This was the only view of the porcupine I could get - no matter which side of the tree I was on.  It looked like maybe the tips of many of his quills had been singed off in the wildfire. (?)

This was the only view of the porcupine I could get – no matter which side of the tree I was on. It looked like maybe the tips of many of his quills had been singed off in last year’s wildfire. (?)

As you might imagine, Jeff and David thought this was mighty entertaining.  By this time, they’d sidled close enough that I could hear their chuckling.  I told David to make himself useful and come help.  I figured the porcupine couldn’t look away from both of us if we were on opposite sides of the tree.  I was right about that – it just looked away from ME.  David was apparently non-threatening, or at least less threatening than I was.  Maybe  that’s because it’s hard to seem threatening when you’re laughing as hard as David was.  While David and porcupine shared their little joke, I was still left facing the backside of my intended photo subject.

Here's David Weber conspiring with the porcupine.  You can tell by the grin on his face how badly he feels for me.

Here’s David Weber conspiring with the porcupine. You can tell by the grin on his face how bad he felt about the whole situation.

After a few more minutes of jocularity, the porcupine did eventually turn my way.  I’m not sure why – I suppose it probably figured I wasn’t going to leave it alone otherwise.  Of course, when it DID look at me, its face was in the shadow of a tree branch.  After all that trouble getting the porcupine to look in me in the face, I wasn’t going home with photos of a porcupine that looked like it had stripes on its face, so I called David into action again.  Trying (unsuccessfully) to stifle his chortling, David grabbed the end of the branch and swung it around a little so the porcupine’s face came out of the shadows.  …At which point, the porcupine looked back over at David and away from me.

By this point in the story, some of you are probably feeling sorry for the porcupine.  The poor thing had been sitting in a tree, just calmly chewing on a branch, when it was rudely accosted by a frustrated photographer and his two snickering friends.  Now, one of the snickerers was swinging its branch around.  Well, let me just say this:  of the four of us, the porcupine wasn’t the one showing signs of stress.  It seemed competely calm – content to play the straight man in the comedic sketch my companions were enjoying so much.

Finally, between David’s branch maneuvering and my persistence (stubbornness?) I did end up with a couple halfway decent shots of the front side of the porcupine.

You have to look really closely to see its self-satisfied smile…

photo 1

One decent photo, even with the shadow arcoss its face.

.

Can you see the smile?

See that smug look?

.