What Is High-Quality Prairie Anyway?

Does this look like a high-quality prairie?

What about this one?

What if I told you the first one was 2 acres in size and the second was part of a 20,000 acre grassland block? 

Would it affect your opinion if you knew the first site was isolated from any other prairie habitat by miles of cropland and was directly adjacent to a busy highway?  What if I told you the second prairie hosts three different prairie dog towns and a herd of bison?

(None of this is true, by the way.  These are just hypothetical statements meant to be thought-provoking.)

The term “high-quality prairie” is often used in conservation circles, but people have very different definitions for it.  That’s not necessarily a bad thing.  In fact, it’s fascinating to see how the quality of a prairie is defined by people in different parts of North America, let alone in other parts of the world.  The cultural context is incredibly important to the way prairies are assessed and appreciated.

Here’s another example.

Does this look like a high-quality prairie?  Would it change your opinion if you knew it was planted on former row crop land?

Taking that further, does it matter if that restored prairie is about 10 acres in size and not connected to any other natural areas?  In contrast, what if it was 50 acres in size and connected two formerly-isolated remnant (unplowed) prairie parcels together?  Does that affect its quality or value?  Does it affect the quality or value of those remnant prairie parcels?

What are the criteria we should use for evaluating prairies?

A very common way to assess prairies is by looking at their plant species.  That makes good sense.  Prairie plants are beautiful.  In addition, of course, the plant community has a huge influence on the other components of the larger prairie community, including animals, fungi, and other soil microbes.  Maybe more importantly, you can always find plants.  They are literally rooted in place. 

When you visit a prairie, you might not see a pocket mouse, a katydid, or a badger, but if there’s a population of stiff sunflower, you can go to a particular spot and see it – it might even be in flower if you time it right.  Over time, it’s easy to see how that population is doing because you can check on it whenever you want.

There are multiple ways to evaluate a plant community.  The diversity of species is usually considered to be one important factor.  The presence of rare plant species, or species that have very specific habitat or management requirements, can be another.  The second can be particularly significant in landscapes where very little prairie is left.  Finding a prairie that still hosts rare plants is a big deal.

Prairie turnip (Pediomelum esculentum) is hard to find across much of its historic range. This one is part of a large population at the Niobrara Valley Preserve.

Looking at the diversity of plants and the presence and abundance of rare species is a very sensible way to begin evaluating a prairie.  I often do it myself.  You can visit a prairie at any time of year and make at least some assessment of the plant community – though it’s much easier during the growing season. 

In contrast, you have to time your visit carefully if you want to see what the bird community looks like (many species are only present for a few months each year).  Small mammals are tricky because they’re hard to see and you probably need some kind of trap system to even find any.  You can see a lot of invertebrates if you look closely, and of course you can pick up a sweep net and very quickly gather a bunch of them to inspect.  But invertebrates are notorious for having massive swings in population size from year to year, and many are only aboveground for short periods of time each season.  That means it can take a lot of time and a lot of effort to get any picture of what’s happening with invertebrate communities.

Insects like these bush cicadas can experience huge population booms and busts between years, making it hard to evaluate invertebrate communities.

However, notwithstanding the challenges of evaluating their populations, birds, small mammals, and invertebrates are all important components of prairies, right?  Any assessment of prairie quality should probably include them – not to mention reptiles, amphibians, large mammals, fungi and other soil microbes, and lots more. 

Looking at the plant community can provide hints about some of those other organisms.  Plant diversity is strongly correlated with invertebrate diversity, for example.  However, not all prairie animals have such strong ties to the diversity of a plant community, or to the presence or absence of particular plants.

Most grassland birds, for example, are really dependent upon the size of a grassland area and the habitat structure present. Some species nest in short grass, others in tall.  Still others need a variety of habitat patch types because they use different vegetation structure for nesting, brood rearing, wintering, and/or courtship displays.  In addition, a lot of grassland nesting birds are sensitive to the size of a prairie and/or won’t nest near wooded edges, roads, etc. (or suffer poor nest success when they do).

Upland sandpipers nest on the ground in large prairie patches with short, open habitat. They then take their young chicks into cover where the habitat is open enough the chicks can feed and move around easily, but there is overhead cover (especially broad-leaved plants) they can use to hide from predators and find shade.

Small mammals, reptiles, and invertebrates also respond strongly to the kind of habitat structure in a prairie.  Just as with birds, each species has its own preferences or requirements – some looking for short/sparse habitat, others for tall/dense cover, and some need something in the middle or a mix of all of those options.  Also, like birds, many of those animals and their populations will thrive best in larger prairies than in smaller ones. 

So, in addition to a “good” plant community, you could argue that a high-quality prairie should also be one that is large and managed in a way that provides a mixture of habitat structure.  Maybe, but this is where things get really interesting. 

In many places, large prairies just don’t exist anymore.  We’re left with small remnants of grassland, surrounded by row crops, urban areas, woodlands, or other land cover types.  Does that mean none of those prairies are high-quality?  Of course not.  But the context matters.  The quality of a site is measured against objectives (what do we want a prairie to be or to provide?) and objectives are informed by local culture. 

Small prairies can still provide excellent habitat for many species, including plants, invertebrates, and many small vertebrates, though stewardship gets really tricky.  It can be really challenging to manage those sites in a way that doesn’t eliminate any animal populations (by repeatedly burning the whole site, for example) while still staving off woody plants and invasive species.  However, when comparing a bunch of small prairies to each other, we can come up with criteria for determining which are higher or lower-quality.

On the flip side, there are parts of the world where we still have huge, unplowed grassland landscapes.  These prairies have the scale to support a lot of animals that can’t survive in isolated small prairies, and – if managed appropriately – the habitat structure those species need as well.  That might even include many large animals like bison and pronghorn, or other charismatic species like prairie dogs or prairie grouse. 

The Nebraska Sandhills is 12 million acres of contiguous native prairie.
Pronghorn – one of many large prairie animals supported by the Nebraska Sandhills.

However, in some of those landscapes, much of the prairie has lost plant diversity and/or populations of plant species that used to be there, and that has big implications.  Not only is the plant community an important component of “quality”, it also supports many of the other organisms that make up a strong, resilience grassland community.  Scale and habitat heterogeneity can make up for some of that, but species diversity is also a huge component of resilience.

Looking across a landscape like this, with lots of grassland but varying degrees of plant diversity and other components, we can pick out places that we think are of higher quality than others.  The criteria we use to make those decisions, though, will surely be different than the ones we use in a landscape where only small prairie patches remain.

Here’s why all this matters:

All of us who live around and work with prairies evaluate them through our own lenses.  Some of the criteria we use are shared, but others are heavily influenced by local conditions.  That’s ok, but we should recognize the biases we each have.  More importantly, we should make sure we’re talking to and learning from each other. 

About 15 years ago, I wrote a post about these different views on prairie quality.  In that post, I talked about how some of us focus a lot on the species composition (mainly plant composition) of prairies, while others look more at habitat structure and processes.  Those tendencies tend to be correlated with geography (east/west) and with the amount of grassland remaining in landscapes. 

In that post, I was hoping to stir people to expand their definition of prairie quality and to borrow perspectives from others.  There’s been some movement in that direction, but there are still some big differences in the way people assess prairie quality, and that strongly influences the way those prairies are managed.

As examples, I would love to see people working in fragmented prairie landscapes think more about how to vary habitat structure across even relatively small prairie parcels to benefit invertebrates and larger wildlife species.  At the same time, I wish people in landscapes with much larger prairies would pay more attention to plant composition.  While we have extensive prairies where the plant communities are in terrific shape, there are also lots of places where plant diversity is relatively low and many plant species are hard to find. 

My family prairie is is surrounded by cropland. I work really hard to provide a variety of habitat structure types each year to support wildlife, while constantly striving to improve the plant community. I’ve learned a lot about how to do this (and measure success) from colleagues and friends across the country.

There are lots of ways to create more heterogeneous habitat structure in prairies – even small ones.  We also have ways of managing for, and even rebuilding, plant diversity in places where it has diminished.  Good, creative land stewards working in today’s grasslands should be able to do all of that.  However, we aim our stewardship at the goals we set for ourselves, and those goals are tied to the way we evaluate prairie quality.

It doesn’t make a lot of sense to compare a 10-acre prairie fragment in northern Illinois to a 5,000-acre prairie pasture in central Kansas and argue about which is better.  It’s ok to say both are high-quality prairies (or not), based on local criteria.  What’s crucial is that we continue trying to learn from the way we each see and value our prairies.  All of us can benefit from expanding our perspectives, right?

Visualizing Plant Community Change

Quick announcement: if you’re a graduate student doing research related to conservation in the Great Plains of North America, you should check out the J.E. Weaver Competitive Grant Program. We are offering up to five grants of $1,500 each to graduate students. Read more here.

About a week ago, I posted a bunch of nerdy graphs with data from some of our restored sites at the Platte River Prairies. I’ve been glad to hear from at least some of you that found those interesting. However, graphs showing how species richness or individual species occurrence changes over time are interesting, but they only show parts of the overall story. I’ve been playing with another way to better illustrate the full picture of a plant community’s species composition through time.

Photographs can help illustrate what prairies look like and how they change through time, but they only show the plants that are most visually apparent at the time of the photo. This is a 2009 photo of a restored prairie planted in the year 2000. It is one of the two sites I’m highlighting in today’s post.

What I really want to do is to step back and look at an entire plant community to examine how its composition changes through time. The concept I’m sharing today has been useful to me, but I’d love to hear feedback from others. I’d also like help naming the graphics I’ve constructed. When I started, I called them plant community signatures, but that’s doesn’t feel quite right. Help?

(For those of you who are more interested in pretty pictures than data, I did throw in a few recent photos of ice bubbles at the very end of today’s post, just for fun. If you want to see them, however, you’ll have to scroll past all my cool visual data representations first.)

The data used to create these illustrations are the same data I showed graphs of in my last data post. As a reminder, to collect the data, I plop down a 1x1m plot frame, list the plant species within it, and then repeat that over and over across a site (about 70 or more times per site). I can then calculate frequency of occurrence for each species, which is simply the percentage of those 70 or so samples each species was found in.

Once I have the data, I lay it out in a spreadsheet format to display the frequency of occurrence changes for each species through time. However, to make it easier to see patterns, I’ve colored each cell so that less frequent occurrence is light green and more frequent occurrence is dark green. I’ve also tried to group species together in a logical way. The result – at least to me – is a fascinating way to step back and study how plant composition varies over time.

I’m displaying results for two sites here. The first is a 1995 planting that I’ve collected data from annually since 2002. The second is a 2000 planting that I’ve collected data from every other year since 2003. I’m not displaying results for every species – just 60 or so of the species in each site that are abundant enough to be captured fairly regularly in 70 1x1m plots. If you want more details on these sites, you can get it from my last data-heavy post.

SITE 1 – Dahms 1995 Prairie Restoration. A 45 acre mesic site on sandy loam soils planted in spring of 1995 with approximately 150 plant species.

Here is the full graphic for the 1995 prairie restoration. It shows the frequency of occurrence between 2002 and 2023 for each featured species.

Remember to click on the title to open this post online if you’re reading it in an email. Doing that will then allow you to click on each image to see a larger, more clear version of it.

When I stare at this graphic, the first thing I notice is that there are very few examples of species that are on a distinct trajectory of increasing or decreasing frequency of occurrence. Most species simply fluctuate up and down through the years – some more dramatically than others. As expected, most of the most variable species are in the ‘annuals and biennials’ category. I think that’s great, and is evidence of ecological resilience.

Now, let’s look more closely at each of the four categories.

This graphic shows perennial grasses and sedges, including three invasive perennial grasses. Two species show a strong trend of increasing abundance. One is a native sedge (Carex brevior) and the other is Kentucky bluegrass.

Looking at the perennial grasses, it’s clear that big bluestem has been a dominant feature of this site for the duration. That’s fine, but not particularly surprising to me. What’s more interesting is the increasing abundance over time of both short-beaked sedge and Kentucky bluegrass. I’m happy about the sedge becoming more common. It’s a cool little plant. Kentucky bluegrass, of course, is less exciting because it has the potential to form monocultures and decrease plant diversity.

However, and this is really important, I’m not seeing any evidence – either here, in my other analyses, or on the ground, that Kentucky bluegrass is having a significant impact on plant diversity. Now, that could certainly change, but at least so far, it seems to be just hanging out (though it’s hanging out in a lot more places than it used to). It’s a great reminder that we should always measure the impact of invasive species, rather than just measuring the extent or abundance of the invaders themselves.

I’ll quickly highlight two other species that intrigue me. Little bluestem has become less common across the site over time, though it seems to have stabilized at about 10-20% occurrence in recent years. Simultaneously, prairie cordgrass has done the opposite, becoming more common.

Little bluestem likes drier habitats and cordgrass likes wetter. Does that mean the site has gotten wetter? I don’t think so. Instead, I think what we’re seeing is a long-term self-sorting process of a planted prairie. When the site was planted, the seed mix included way more little bluestem seed than cordgrass seed. As a result, I think the early establishment of those two species wasn’t representative of their actual adaptation to the site. Over time, I think they’ve both shifted around until they’ve settled into the microsites (and abundances) they’re best suited to.

Frequency of occurrence for perennial forbs in the 1995 planting.

I don’t see much drama happening within the perennial forbs at this site. That’s pretty reassuring, actually, given the kinds of stresses that the prairie has experienced. It’s been managed with patch-burn grazing or open gate grazing since 2002, when this data collection started. As a result, the plant community has been exposed to fire, season-long intensive grazing, and multi-year rest/recovery periods. On top of that, of course, are the wet and dry years that can also significantly affect the growth and survival of plants. It’s good to see that none of these species seems to be disappearing (which also matches up with my other analyses of our restored prairies).

The only species I see that seems to show a significant trend toward lower abundance is tall boneset. That’s not a species known to be particularly sensitive to grazing pressure, as far as I know. In fact, I think of it more as a plant that does well with the kind of lower grass dominance that comes after a bout of grazing.

My best guess is that tall boneset is a species that started out very abundant because of both lots of seed in the mix and a slow, weedy early establishment period for this planting. Over time, it might just be dropping in abundance because it’s not as competitive in this soil type when competition from its neighbors is stronger. I’m just guessing here, though. The point is that the graphic helps me identify this pattern and ask questions!

Short-lived plants and their frequency of occurrence through time.

Within the annual and biennial plants I included, it’s fascinating to see how volatile their frequency of occurrence can be from year to year. I don’t see any species with a decided trend – the species seem to just bounce up and down. What’s most intriguing to me is that all the bouncing doesn’t seem to be synchronized across species. In other words, all these short-lived plants are responding to different stimuli as they increase and decrease in their abundance.

SITE 2 – Dahms 2000 Prairie Restoration. A 69 acre mesic prairie on sandy loam soils planted over the winter between 1999 and 2000.

Now, let’s look at the second site (the one shown in the photo at the beginning of this post).

The Dahms 2000 restoration was planted with 202 species, most of which have been found at the site. Here is the full graphic for this planting, showing frequency of occurrence data for about 60 of those plant species.

I’ve only collected data from the Dahms 2000 site every other year, so there are fewer columns. Also, the site was only in its fourth growing season when I started collecting data, so we’re seeing more of the ‘early establishment’ phase of this site than we did of the 1995 planting, which was in its 8th year of growth when I first collected data there.

Frequency of occurrence for perennial grasses and sedges, including two invasive grasses.

Interestingly, there is a little more directional change within the grasses at this site than in the 1995 planting. Is that because the data includes earlier periods? Maybe, but even so, the change seems to continue past the first 8-10 years for at least some species. Big bluestem, Indiangrass, short-beaked sedge, and switchgrass all seem to be on trends of increasing frequency. Canada wildrye seems to be going in the opposite direction so it’ll be interesting to see if/where it levels off.

Both Kentucky bluegrass and smooth brome have increased in percent frequency over time. However, as in the 1995 planting, I’m not seeing any negative impacts on species diversity (yet?).

Frequency of occurrence of perennial forbs in this 2002 planting.

Within the perennial forbs, a few species at the top (stiff sunflower, yarrow, and bergamot) seem to be on an upward trend, at least before the last sampling period. You might notice that there are a lot of species – across all the categories – that dipped in frequency in 2023. I’m pretty sure that’s a consequence of thatchiness caused by a recent lack of fire and grazing, which was intentional on the part of the Platte River Prairies preserve manager (a combination of a scheduled rest period and a response to a couple dry years). I’m confident the numbers will bounce back up again over the next few years as the site gets more fire and grazing again.

Apart from those species, I think the most interesting thing about the perennial forbs is the lack of many obvious trajectories. For the most part, species seem fairly stable in their abundance through time, though some ebb and flow in interesting ways. Some species that have been labeled ‘aggressive’ in some circumstances don’t seem to be acting that way here, including Canada goldenrod and Maximilian sunflower.

Frequency of occurrence of annual and biennial plants in a 2000 prairie planting.

Just as in the first site, short-lived plants bounce around a lot in their frequency of occurrence. The variation over time is evident even though the data was only collected every two years. Once again, I don’t see much synchrony within those bounces, which tells me each species responds individually to the myriad stresses applied to the site over time. Fascinating!

So, there’s my attempt at a visual display of plant community change in our restored prairies. Does the approach seem helpful? Suggestions for improvement? Ideas for what to name the graphics?

.

And now, for those of you hoping to see pretty pictures, here are three photos of ice bubbles from a restored wetland at the Platte River Prairies last week. Enjoy!