The Post-Grazing Party – Part 2

Earlier this month, I wrote about a project I’m undertaking this year to illustrate what we see happening in prairies that enter their first year of growth following a long period of intense grazing. The ways prairie plants and animals respond after that kind of grazing are some of the most fun and fascinating interactions I see in grasslands.

You can read the full background of the project in my previous post, but the basic idea is that I want to show people what happens in our plant communities when the dominant plants have been suppressed by grazing. In our case, I’m talking about grazing that keeps the prairie cropped short for most of a growing season, if not longer.

Crab spider on pale poppy mallow (Callirhoe alcaeoides) seen last week in my East Dahms Prairie photo plot.

What we’re doing is very different, by the way, than the kind of rotational grazing approaches used by most ranchers. That’s not to say those rotational approaches are wrong. I just want to clarify the difference. We are using stocking rates that match or exceed what a rancher might use on the same land, but the goal of our experiments is to see how much habitat heterogeneity we can create.

Habitat heterogeneity has been strongly tied (through many research efforts) to both biodiversity and ecological resilience, which are our ultimate goals. We’re trying to learn as much as we can so we can help translate any lessons to ranchers and others who are looking to tweak what they’re doing to improve wildlife habitat, plant diversity, pollinator abundance, etc. We’re not to trying to talk them into doing exactly what we’re doing.

In my first post, I introduced two of the three sites I’m photographing this year. Today, I’m showing you the third. If you’ve visited our Platte River Prairies for a tour within the last several years, there’s a good chance you’ve seen this site up close. It’s the East Dahms pasture, where we’ve been testing open gate rotational grazing since for about six or seven years.

The site includes both remnant (unplowed) and restored (former cropland) prairie. The 80×80 foot plot I’m watching this year is in a 1995 planting done by Prairie Plains Resource Institute, which included about 150 plant species in the seed mix. It, and the rest of East Dahms, was managed with patch-burn grazing from about 2001 through 2018. We then switched to the open gate approach. As a result, it has gone through many cycles of season-long intense grazing, followed by long rest periods.

The East Dahms prairie, showing the four pastures and the habitat heterogeneity seen from the air.

In the open gate rotational system we’re testing at this site, each pasture gets about a season and a half of grazing before going into a 2 1/2 year rest cycle. In the case of Pasture C (seen above), it was grazed from early July through October in 2023 and then from late May through October in 2024. By mid summer of 2024, the vegetation was nearly uniformly short and it stayed that way through the end of the 2024 season. This spring, cattle were put in the pasture around April 15 and pulled out last week, giving them one more chance to graze Kentucky bluegrass, smooth brome, and tall fescue (invasive grasses) before the pasture starts its long rest cycle. Pasture C probably won’t be grazed again until mid summer of 2027.

An April 16, 2025 photo of Pasture C, near where where I’m doing my photo project.
Pasture D on April 16, 2025, which was open to cattle, in addition to Pasture C.

The two photos above show Pastures C (top) and D (bottom) with a spade to help show the vegetative structure. Both pastures were open to the cattle at the time, but the cattle chose to spend most of their time in Pasture C, even though it looks like there’s very little grass there. The quality of the fresh growth was apparently high enough to make that worthwhile. They wandered through Pasture D a little, mostly grazing smooth brome patches, but otherwise camped out in C until we closed the gate and they only had access to Pasture D.

Here’s the location of my photo plot (80×80 feet) within Pasture C.

The point of all that blathering is that this is a restored prairie, planted in 1995, that is just coming out of a long period of hard grazing. It should put on a good show this season, displaying the resilience of a diverse plant community and the animals (and other organisms) that are tied to those plants. As per usual, the big party is starting with a flush of annuals, biennials, and other short-lived plants.

Common dandelion (Taraxacum officinale)
Annual sunflowers (Helianthus annuus)
Black medic (Medicago lupulina)
Here’s the 80×80 foot plot from the northeast corner, looking to the southwest. This look will change dramatically over the next few months.

Dandelions, annual sunflowers, and black medic are examples of the kinds of opportunistic plants that are taking advantage of both the bare soil and suppressed vigor of the normally-dominant grasses and other perennials in the prairie. Repeated grazing for many months hasn’t killed any of those perennials, but it has sapped them of a lot of their resources. They won’t grow very tall this year, and will be much less competitive, both above and belowground. By the end of next year (2026), however, they should be back to full strength.

Annual mustards are often abundant in these kinds of post-grazing situations, and they’re peppered throughout my plot this year as well. I’ve included photos of three species below (I’m 85% confident in my species identification – mustards are tricky for me).

Shepherd’s purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris)
Field pennycress (Thlaspi arvense)
Tansy mustard (Descurainia pinnata)
Purslane speedwell (Veronica peregrina)

Opportunistic plants include both native and non-native species, but there are none at this site (or the other two I’m tracking this year) that are categorized as invasive. They’ll all fade into the background by next year, as the dominant plants. We’ll see very few of them until the grazing cycle comes back around again to open up space for them.

Not all of the opportunists are annuals, either. Some, like hoary vervain, yarrow, and black-eyed Susans are perennial plants that can be relatively short-lived and come and go quickly in a plant community, depending upon the degree of competition from other plants. Either that, or they often survive the tough years (when dominant grasses are strong) as small, non-flowering individuals – just hanging on to life until their next chance to flourish.

Prairie ragwort (Packera plattensis) is a native biennial that will bloom and make seed once before dying.
Pale poppy mallow (Callirhoe alcaeoides) is a long-lived perennial that seems to tolerate intensive grazing very well. It seems to thrive in the abundant sunshine provide by last year’s grazing.

It’s pretty easy for me to photograph the flowers in these post-grazing plots. I’ll do a lot of that this season and it’ll be fun to see the abundant color and texture they provide within the plant community, especially when we get into mid-summer when many of the bigger, showier species will start blooming.

However, the wildlife habitat values of the post-grazing party period are also important, so I’ll try to document those as well. Because the growth of most grasses will be limited this year, but opportunistic forbs will grow tall, the structure across these sites is likely to resemble a miniature savannah – with forbs instead of trees. Animals will be able to move easily through the short grass, but will have overhead cover for both shade and protection from predators. Insect abundance is typically very high under those conditions, too, including pollinators, herbivores, predators, etc.

Here are a few invertebrate photos I took a few days ago in the East Dahms plot.

Galls created by the spiny rose gall wasp (Diplolepis bicolor) on prairie wild rose (Rosa arkansana).
Damselfly perched on Kentucky bluegrass
A tiny moth on Kentucky bluegrass
A very small long-jawed orbweaver spider with a captured insect (planthopper?). The spider was about 1/2 inch long.

Right now, these three plots might look pretty rough/ugly, depending upon your perspective. The vegetation is very short and there’s a lot of bare ground exposed. That runs counter to what most ranchers are taught about range management. It is also very difficult for many prairie folks to look at because it looks the same as many chronically overgrazed pastures they’ve seen.

The crucial difference is that these sites are being given plenty of opportunities to rest between grazing bouts, so we’re not losing perennial plant species – even those that cattle really like to eat (e.g., common milkweed, Canada milkvetch, entire-leaf rosinweed, prairie clovers, etc.). Our prairies look very different from year to year, but all the constituent plant species seem to handle the dynamic conditions just fine – while we also create a wide variety of habitats to support a diverse community of animals. At the East Dahms site, we’re also tracking what’s happening in the soil and I’ll share those results when I can (the news is good so far).

Anyway, stay tuned. It should be a fun year, even if our current drought conditions hang around and/or intensify. No matter what the weather brings, there will be a lot happening at the party.

Buds in the Spring

Spring is a good time to think about buds.  Most of us are familiar with buds on the branches of trees and shrubs because they’re easy to see – and at this time of year, they begin opening and exposing new leaves and flowers.  Most prairie plants, however start their spring growth from buds at or below the soil surface.

Blossoms and buds of a wild plum. The flower buds have already opened, but the leaf buds are still tightly closed.

Before I go any further, I need to thank Jackie Ott, who provided the background information and photo interpretation for this post.  Jackie is a PhD candidate, and one of a group of researchers at Kansas State University who are working to learn more about the buds of prairie plants and the role those buds play in the ecology of plant populations.  Just as the collective seeds in the soil beneath a prairie is called a “seed bank”, the buds beneath a prairie can be called a “bud bank”.  Jackie and others are trying to find out how those bud banks work, and (among other things) how they help plants and populations respond to stress.  I’ve enjoyed several opportunities to learn about buds from Jackie and her colleagues over the last several years, and will write a future post about some of what they’re learning about bud banks.  In this post, though, I present a short introduction (with photos) on the belowground buds of prairie grasses and wildflowers.

Buds of sand lovegrass (Eragrostis trichodes) - one on the left and two on the right.

Buds are essentially packages of plant tissue full of cells that can divide very quickly.  They are usually protected from moisture, temperature extremes, and other damage by a thick waxy coating.  All of the buds on grasses are located below ground, so all growth comes from there.  When a grass is clipped or grazed off, it just keeps pushing the growth up from the original underground bud.  Forbs start their growth each spring from buds located near or below ground too, but they can also grow “adventitious” buds at any point along their stems.  When a forb is clipped, it can create a new bud near the clipped tip and restart growth from there.  If it is clipped too close to the ground, it may start a new stem from a belowground bud instead of from an adventitious bud.

Western yarrow (Achillea millefolium), showing belowground buds and roots. There is one big bud in the foreground, and another one (very white) in the background.

According to Jackie, more than 90% of the stems you see in a tallgrass prairie each year started as buds, rather than seeds, that spring.  Buds allow the “parent” plant to provide nutrients to the new stem and support its growth – as opposed to a seed, which has a limited supply of food in its endosperm and then is on its own to survive.

Large stacked buds on a violet plant. In this photo you can still see the shape of the bulky buds at the base of each of the existing leaves/stems.

If you dig up a prairie grass or forb, you can easily find the buds around the base of the plant.  Generally, there are multiple buds – each able to grow into a new stem if/when needed.  Those buds represent the ability of that plant to produce new growth each season, but also following a disturbance such as fire, drought, or intensive grazing, that forces the plant to restart its growth mid-season.  The larger collection of buds among all the plants in a prairie represents the prairie’s “bud bank.”  The capacity of that bud bank to respond during stressful conditions is one of the most intriguing parts of what Jackie and her colleagues at Kansas State University are researching.

Buds on a spiderwort (Tradescantia bracteata) rhizome. Rhizomes are underground stems that allow perennial plants to expand their reach by stretching out and growing new aboveground stems at some distance from the parent stem. That new growth, though, still has to come from buds - such as these.

All of the photos in this post were taken in an indoor studio.