The Post-Grazing Year

At the beginning of the 2025 growing season, I picked out three sites I could visit repeatedly to photograph/document how a prairie responded to having been grazed the previous year. That turned out to be overly ambitious, but I did manage to focus on one of those sites – an 80×80 foot square marked out at our family prairie – and visited it frequently throughout 2025. I really enjoyed the project and happy to finally share a lot of my favorite photos from it.

One of the reasons I wanted to do this project is that many people have very limited experience with “conservation grazing”, or grazing that is aimed at achieving particular conservation objectives. That’s understandable if your only exposure to cattle grazing comes from seeing overgrazed pastures. As with most things, there’s a lot of variety out there. While it’s not hard to find examples of poorly-grazed grasslands across the Great Plains, there are also countless examples of very thoughtfully-applied grazing that create both good habitat for wildlife/pollinators/plant communities and profitability for ranchers. It’s important to highlight those examples and show that prairies can thrive under well-managed grazing.

Grazing has long been a significant component of prairie ecology. Today, it is still an important part of many prairies, particularly in the Great Plains. Grazing can be used to influence the competition between plants and determine the composition and diversity of the plant community. It can also shape habitat structure, creating areas of short, tall, and patchy vegetation, respectively. A mix of those various habitat types supports a diverse community of animals – large and small.

Here’s the plot on May 1. It was very short from being grazed the entire previous season. The yellower area in the top left is a different part of the same prairie that’s at a different stage of the grazing/rest cycle.

Much of the cattle grazing we’re experimenting with right now, both at The Nature Conservancy/Nebraska and at my family prairie, involves long periods of grazing followed by long periods of rest. There are lots of reasons for this approach, which I won’t go into here, but the biggest objective is to create a broad range of habitat structure across a prairie, without compromising the diversity and richness of the plant community. It’s about creating habitat heterogeneity and ecological resilience.

We’ve been managing our family prairie over the last 10-15 years with open-gate rotational grazing, which has a lot of similarities to patch-burn grazing but isn’t driven by fire. The 80×80 foot plot I photographed in 2025 had been grazed hard most of the previous season (June through October 2024) and part of the season before that (July through Mid-August 2023). By October 2024, it was uniformly short, with a fair amount of bare ground exposed (see the first photo of this post, which shows the plot at the beginning of the 2025 season).

This kind of grazing may sound (and look) irresponsible to people who are either uncomfortable with cattle grazing overall or who have been taught that you should never graze more than half of the biomass of a pasture before moving cattle out. An important point, though, is that the same pasture was rested for two full years prior to 2023/2024 and will be rested for two more full years before it is grazed again. That’s a lot of time for grazed plants to regain their energy and vigor. We’re also looking at how soils respond to this grazing pattern and are seeing positive results (more on that when the data is fully analyzed).

A big patch of purple prairie clover on June 27. Note how short the surrounding grasses are – they’re low on energy because of the previous year’s grazing. They’ll have recovered that energy by next year.
Stiff goldenrod was abundant and in full color on September 13. Again, note the sparsity and short height of the grasses and the space between plants.

My favorite part of grazing approaches like open-gate rotation and patch-burn grazing is the way the prairie community responds in the first year after a long season of grazing. The vigor of the typically-dominant plants (tall grasses, in particular) has been temporarily suppressed, releasing many other plants from that competitive pressure. This usually results in a big wildflower party, including both long-lived perennials and a lot of short-lived plants who are taking advantage of a short window of opportunity to germinate, bloom, and die while the big grasses aren’t able to prevent them from doing so.

The resulting habitat structure is terrific for many animal species, large and small. The reduced height and density of grasses means that it’s easy for animals to move through the vegetation. At the same time, other plants grow tall, creating a kind of miniature savanna, where tall wildflowers are like trees, surrounded by shorter vegetation. Animals can move from sun to shade easily to regulate their temperature. They can also can feed in open areas but quickly retreat to cover when they want to. This supports a huge abundance of invertebrates. It also draws in many larger animals, attracted both by the habitat structure and the food source (invertebrates).

In this October 7 photo, the foreground is the area featured in this post at the end of the 2025 growing season and the short-cropped area in the background is what was grazed hard in 2025 and will be rested in 2026 and 2027.

One highlight of the year was that I found purple coneflower in my plot (two different plants). I’ve only seen the species a few times during the 30 years or so I’ve been involved in the management of our family prairie and it had been a while since my last sighting. I wish I could tell you whether it was there because of some overseeding I did a few years ago or because it had been there a long time without me noticing it. Either way, it was really nice to find it.

Purple coneflower (Echinacea angustifolia)

Access to bare ground is crucial for many animals, including a lot of ground nesting bee species, bandwing grasshoppers, various invertebrate predators, and lots of others. Some of those need areas nearly free of any vegetation, but many just need places where the soil isn’t covered by a thick layer of thatch. Last year’s grazing removed most of the plant material from this part of the pasture and also tempered the growth of dominant grasses. The result was that there was lots of great habitat for species that need both bare soil and abundant sunlight.

The bare ground created by last year’s grazing made important habitat for lots of creatures, including this tiger beetle larva hunting at the top of its burrow.
This narrow stink bug was well-camouflaged on its favorite food plant – sideoats grama.
This fly was killed by a fungus that made it crawl to the top of this fleabane plant before dying. Read more about that here.
This bush katydid thought it was hiding from me by sitting still.

The following slideshows provide a visual journey through the 2024 season, from May through October. There are also two additional slideshows at the end, featuring lady beetles and crab spiders. If you’re reading this in an email, these slideshows will display as grids of images. If you click on the title of the post at the top of the email, you’ll be able to view this post online and will be able to scroll through the slideshow and see larger versions of the photos.

May Slideshow

June Slideshow

July/August Slideshow

September/October Slideshow

Finally, here are two last (short) slideshows featuring lady beetles and crab spiders. Why did I choose to highlight these two groups separately? That’s a great question. We all make decisions, don’t we?

Lady Beetles

Crab Spider Slideshow

For any of you who made it this far, I hope you enjoyed the results of this project. For me, it was a like a more relaxed version of my square meter project, in that I visited the same spot over and over through the season. An 80×80 foot plot seemed like a whole universe compared to that square meter, though.

Hopefully, the photos helped you visualize the ways in which a prairie can respond to cattle grazing. This single example, of course, shouldn’t be used to predict how other prairies might respond to similar management, though it was pretty typical of what I’ve seen on numerous sites in central Nebraska.

The most important message is that prairies have a lot of resilience built into them and it’s fascinating to watch that resilience on display. There are lots of good/right ways to manage prairies, depending upon your objectives, and we surely haven’t explored all of those yet. It’s ok to experiment with new approaches to see what happens. How else will we learn?

A Tough Plant, Not A Weed

I blame whomever named the plant.  Giving a plant the name “ironweed”, apparently – according to Google – because of its tough stem, creates an unnecessarily negative connotation right from the start.  It’s an unfair connotation for a plant that is both beautiful and important.  It’s also a big favorite of butterflies; something I can attest to after spending a couple hours last weekend chasing monarchs and others around ironweed patches at our family prairie.

Ironweed at our family prairie, growing abundantly in a smooth brome-filled draw.  The abundance of the plant goes up and down each year, but it never spreads beyond the draw or shades out the grass around and beneath it.

There are three species of ironweed (genus Vernonia) in Nebraska, and two that are common in the prairies I am most familiar with.  Both of those – V. fasciculata and V. baldwinii – seem to act in similar ways, but the first likes a little wetter sites than the second.  Both species can occur as scattered plants across a prairie, but are also often found in fairly dense patches where conditions favor them.  That patchy local abundance is the first mark against them by people who don’t appreciate their value.  The second mark is that cattle absolutely refuse to eat them.  This both helps them stand out (especially when blooming) in heavily grazed pastures and helps them spread across those same sites since they gain a strong competitive edge when surrounding plants are all being grazed hard.

Like many other plant species I tend to admire and write about, however, ironweed is not an invasive plant – it’s an opportunist.  It takes advantage of soil and management conditions that favor it, but doesn’t just spread aggressively across pastures.  If you look online, it’s not hard to find websites that encourage its control in pastures.  I dispute that.  At least in my experience, ironweed has its favorite locations (often in draws or other low spots where moisture and nitrogen are high) and pulses in abundance within those locations as grazing treatments and weather vary from year to year.  At our family prairie, ironweed is fairly abundant in some of the low draws where high nitrogen also strongly favors smooth brome, but while there are years when those patches are thicker than others, the overall patch sizes and stem densities of ironweed aren’t any higher today than they were 15 years ago.  That matches what I see elsewhere in central and eastern Nebraska.

(I found a university website online that blamed ironweed for making cattle have to look harder to find grass, thus reducing grazing efficiency.  Give me a break.  That’s the same attitude that leads to people spraying pastures to remove everything that isn’t grass, and then wondering why they need to fertilize their grass and supplement their cattle’s diet.  The same people blame others for the lack of wildlife and pollinators on their land.  …Ok, I’m done ranting – let’s talk about butterflies.)

When I arrived at our family prairie last weekend, I immediately noticed monarch butterflies flying all over the place.  I’d seen a surprising number of larvae back in July, so figured we might have a good August, but I was still impressed with how many adults I saw.  I’m guessing there were 40-50 or more across our 100 acres of prairie.  They kept moving, so it was hard to count them…

Almost every monarch I spotted was either flying or feeding on ironweed.  A few other flowers got attention too, including wild bergamot (Monarda fistulosa), Flodman’s thistle (Cirsium flodmanii), and some early tall thistle blossoms (Cirsium altissimum), but ironweed clearly monopolized most of their attention.  I started stalking monarchs with my camera and eventually found a couple that let me get close enough for to capture reasonable photographs.  While I was doing that, I also spotted myriad bees, along with quite a few other butterfly and moth species.

Here are some photos of the butterflies and moths that were kind enough to let me get close.  I didn’t ever get a good shot of a bee, though there were at least a dozen species feeding on the ironweed flowers, and I also never caught up to one of the many silver-spotted skipper butterflies that were all over the place.

This is one of many monarchs that were floating from plant to plant across ironweed patches last weekend.

I haven’t looked up this moth yet. Maybe one of you can save me the trouble? Thanks in advance.

I’ve been seeing a lot of adult swallowtails around lately, including this tiger swallowtail , which was pretty easy to spot, even from across a large draw.

Ok, this black swallowtail wasn’t on ironweed when I photographed it, but it went to ironweed after feeding on this native thistle.  I was taking bets (in my head) about whether or not the crab spider on that thistle would be able to take down the big butterfly. The butterfly eventually moved within striking distance, but the spider didn’t attack, so I’m guessing it decided to wait for something a little smaller.

Thanks to Neil Dankert, I can tell you that this gorgeous little brown skipper butterfly is a tawny-edged skipper.

Ironweed is too beautiful and important for its name.  Maybe we need a campaign to rename it, and maybe that campaign would help convince people, including those at a certain unnamed university, to leave this plant alone to do its job.  Either way, it might be fun to think about potential names.  Any ideas?