Photos of the Week – August 12, 2026

Quick last minute announcement – we are hosting a plant identification/habitat workshop at the Platte River Prairies next Tuesday (9am-2pm). Fore more information or to RSVP, please contact Kate Samuelson at kate.samuelson@tnc.org.

I spent a couple days at the Niobrara Valley Preserve this week. There was a lot to see, as always. Here are some of the highlights.

A bison calf at the Niobrara Valley Preserve this week.

It’s mating season for the bison. During the rut, as it’s called, the herd is as noisy as it ever gets. The sound comes mainly from the big mature bulls who take mating very seriously and spend a lot of time “tending” females. That mostly entails finding females in heat and sticking very close to them, preventing them from merging with the larger herd and keeping other males from getting too close until (they hope) mating ensues. You can get a feel for the sounds of this happening in the video below. (If the video link isn’t active, click on the title of the post to open it online.)

We have two herds on the Preserve. The west herd has a 12,000 acre pasture and the east heard has a 10,000 acre pasture. Between the two, there are around 1,500 to 1,600 animals right now. I was hanging out with the east herd this week.

In that east bison pasture, the bison were very noticeable, of course, but the other big scene stealer was a plant. Annual buckwheat (Eriogonum annuum) is as abundant as I’ve ever seen it and I’m not sure why. It made a terrific white backdrop for photographing the bison herd, but also was attractive on its own – especially with some plains sunflowers (Helianthus petiolaris) mixed in for accents.

Young bison bull with buckwheat and sunflowers.
Annual buckwheat
Buckwheat and sunflowers

Most of this year’s bison calves are getting big and have lost their red color, making them blend into the herd much more than they did a couple months ago. That’s not uniformly true, though – there are a few red calves around that were probably born within the last month or so. It’s not unusual to have a few outliers like that, even though most calves are born in April and May.

Most calves look a lot like this one
But a few are considerably younger and more red.
This calf had some red color left but was definitely transitioning into more standard bison brown.
A calf feeding from mom.
Brown-headed cowbird perched on a bison cow.
A big bull scanning the herd for potential mates and rivals.

The photo below shows a bull, cow, and calf in what you might think is a little family group. They’re not ‘that kind’ of family, though. What’s really happening is that the cow is in heat (ready to mate) and the bull has separated her from the herd a little so he can keep an eye on her and keep rival males from getting too close. The calf is trying to stay with her mom, too, both for food and comfort.

Left to right: Bull, cow, calf.

Monday evening, I drove slowly out to one of the bigger groups of animals in the east bison pasture and parked near where they were hanging out. Over the next hour, the herd very slowly flowed past my truck. I enjoyed watching all the social dynamics and listening to the sounds of the rut. I also took a few short videos with my phone (shown earlier and below) when the animals were right outside my window. I had a to cut a couple of them short, though, because my truck started swaying too much as a young bull scratched its neck and back on my rear bumper. The video below shows a bull licking its flank and the sound gives you an idea of the rasping power of a bison tongue.

All that bison and buckwheat action took place in Sandhills prairie on the south side of the river. On the north side, we have mixed-grass prairie on “harder ground” – sandy soils, but with a little more clay and silt mixed in.

A road cut on a hill north of the river shows the sandy loam soils underneath the mixed-grass prairie.

There’s a lot of overlap in plant species composition between the prairie to the north and south of the river, but also some significant differences. For example, purple, white, and silky prairie clovers are all blooming in the Sandhills right now. On the north, there are a few of each those species, too, but also some big populations of golden and nine-anther prairie clover, which aren’t so much Sandhills plants.

Nine-anther prairie clover (foreground) and mixed-grass prairie.

I poked around in the hills north of the river for a while on Sunday evening and then headed down to the river for sunset. I walked up to the Norden Chute, the big waterfall just upstream of the Norden Bridge that crosses the Niobrara River on our property. This local landmark is accessible to anyone who wants to park in the little lot by the bridge and walk under the bridge to get close. (There is also public fishing available in the same spot.) Because the Chute keeps moving upstream a few feet each year, you might want to come see it fairly soon because when it hits the wider channel, it’s hard to know what it will become.

Arrowhead (Sagittaria sp.) and sunset light
The Norden Chute at sunset.

Please come visit both the Niobrara Valley Preserve and our Platte River Prairies! There are public trails at both sites. And, at both sites, in addition to some very nice interpretive materials at the trailheads, you should really take a look inside the bathrooms. They’re perfectly nice bathrooms, but they also include some murals painted by former Hubbard Fellow Noelle Schumann. Here are some photos from the trailhead bathrooms at the Niobrara Valley Preserve:

Those bugs are eating my flowers! What do I do?

A couple weeks ago, I arrived at our family prairie to find a couple milkweed plants being assaulted by Japanese beetles. That wasn’t a surprise. My understanding is that Japanese beetles have been in the U.S. since about 1916. They’re widely considered to be an invasive species because they are both non-native and because they can cause significant damage to both crops and native plants. I’ve been watching them in prairies for a while, paying attention to what plants they use and trying to decide how big a threat they might be.

As you can see from the photos below, a horde of the little buggers was really working over some of the common milkweed at our prairie. That seems bad, right? Maybe, but the more important question is, “What should we be doing about it?”

Japanese beetles feeding on the leaves of common milkweed
The aftereffects of Japanese beetles on a nearby common milkweed plant
They also eat the flowers

Japanese beetles feed on lots of other native prairie plants besides common milkweed. Some of their favorites around here include lead plant, round-headed bushclover, and tick clovers (aka tick trefoils), but there’s a very long list of prairie plant species I’ve seen Japanese beetles feeding on – often in large numbers.

Japanese beetles on fourpoint evening primrose at The Nature Conservancy’s Platte River Prairies this summer

Several years ago, I wrote a post about my frustration with having to answer questions about whether certain insect species are beneficial or pests. I still don’t like those characterizations and I stand by what I wrote. In that same post, I also said that there are some truly invasive insect species in North America, though, and I listed Japanese beetles as an example. I still stand by that, too – they are invasive.

However, that still doesn’t answer the question about how to handle them.

Look at the photos below. They show a native sunflower (stiff sunflower) being ravaged by some little brown leaf beetles. You can see that the flowers are being functionally destroyed by the beetles – they’re eating all parts of the flower and it will be unable to produce seeds as a result. Is that bad? Does it matter that the beetle is a species native to North America? Should we do something about it?

Leaf beetles (Metrioidea) on stiff sunflower
The little beetles are really working that flower over

The photo below shows some yellow sunflower moth caterpillars feeding on stiff sunflower. They’re having a similar impact to the flower that the beetles in the above photos are having. The caterpillar is also a native species. Do we just let it happen or should we intervene?

Yellow sunflower moth caterpillars on stiff sunflower

There’s a lot of discussion these days about what species are invasive or pests and which aren’t. Does it matter whether they’re native or not? Should we just stop even thinking about invasive species as problems and live with them? It’s a good discussion to have, though I think the answer to the last question is an easy “no” – or, at least, “no, we can’t just ignore all invasive species and hope things will turn out for the best.”

Again, the real question is “what do we do?” As a land steward, my answer to this hinges on whether a species is working against my big objectives. My biggest objective is to facilitate ecological resilience, which largely depends on species diversity and the size and connectivity of habitat. As a result, when I’m thinking about how to respond to a plant or animal that seems potentially problematic, I ask myself if it seems to be decreasing resilience. Is it fragmenting habitat and decreasing the ability of prairie species to use or thrive in that area? Is it monopolizing resources and simplifying the plant or animal community it has moved into? If the answer is yes, I feel like action needs to be considered. Those questions, by the way, apply to both native and non-native species.

In the case of plant species that are reducing the diversity of the plant community, sometimes my response is to try to kill and/or eradicate them from a site. That’s usually only the strategy if the species has just started to invade and I think we can still get rid of it without undue harm from whatever approach we plan to take (often either manual removal or herbicide treatment). More often, the strategy is to make sure our larger management actions are helping to prevent them from becoming dominant enough to cause problems. Sometimes, that means targeting the plants with mowing, fire, or grazing outside our larger stewardship approach. Other times, the general way we’re managing for plant diversity does the job just fine.

Eastern tent caterpillars (a native species) dismantling large chunks of a willow copse at The Nature Conservancy’s Niobrara Valley Preserve

Returning to insects… At the moment, I’m not doing any invasive insect control efforts at my family prairie, nor are we doing anything like that on lands we manage at The Nature Conservancy here in Nebraska. The simplest reason is that none of the insects appear to be causing enough negative impact to warrant any action. Japanese beetles definitely hit some plants hard, but I’ve never seen them take out the majority of plants in a population. When I took the above photos of Japanese beetles, there were lots of milkweed and/or evening primrose plants nearby that weren’t being visited by the beetles. Plus, I’ve noticed some plant species (lead plant is a great example) that look really bad when the beetles are done with them, but still produce seeds by the end of the year.

And, of course, if I’m not going to do anything about Japanese beetles, I’m also not going to do anything with native leaf beetles or caterpillars eating stiff sunflowers, tent caterpillars eating willows, or any other similar examples – even if some of the effects can look pretty dramatic. The reason is the same. I’m not seeing any evidence those species are affecting the species diversity or resilience of the ecological communities I’m managing.

Saying all this, I’m not trying to say no one should ever worry about invasive or other insects that cause potentially negative impacts. Different standards apply to insect damage to food crops, for example. In our home garden, we sometimes take action to save our spinach or squash plants from being destroyed by insects. We sometimes pick Japanese beetles off our zinnias and rhubarb and dump them in soapy water to save those plants.

Most times, however, we’re happy to see (or at least are fine with) insects devouring the flowers, seeds, leaves, or stems of the plants in our yard. We have a diversity of native plants (and some non-native flowers and shrubs) in our yard BECAUSE we want to help invertebrates and other wildlife, so the fact that those plants are being used as food is a success.

Our farmer neighbors have to make difficult decisions about whether an insect population is going to have enough effect on their yield that they need to do something about it. Those decisions are then followed by similarly difficult decisions about what action might look like (pesticide application? biocontrol introduction? inclusion of field boundaries planted with vegetation that might reduce insect damage to crops?)

In ecological systems, though, I’m comfortable with the standard I’m applying. If a species is reducing the resilience of a site we’re managing, we have an obligation to mitigate that. It can be hard to divorce ourselves from the emotion of seeing a plant get decimated by a crawling mass of invertebrates. Stepping back to put that scene in context with the broader area, though, usually helps answer the question about whether or what to do anything about it. After all, one of the benefits of facilitating ecological resilience is that it gives prairies the ability to adapt and absorb impacts, including Japanese beetles shredding some plants here and there.