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.

An Adjusted Aesthetic and Reflections on Portraying Change

I have long admired the work of Stephen Packard.  His book  The Tallgrass Prairie Restoration Handbook (co-authored with Cornelia Mutel), for example, is a classic among restoration practitioners.   More importantly, he observes, reflects, and shares his thoughts in ways that influence the fields of prairie and savanna ecology in deeply meaningful ways.

In a recent blog post, Packard discusses a trip he and others took to Africa and shares thoughts about – among other things – the adjusted aesthetic required when visiting “real nature”.  The term adjusted aesthetic really resonated with me.  In his post, Stephen is referring to the way he and his fellow Illinois prairie ecologists had to get used to seeing grasslands and savannahs that were consistently and universally impacted by large numbers of grazing animals.

I often run into a similar situation when I talk to people about using grazing as a prairie management tool here in North America.  To many prairie enthusiasts, especially to the east of Nebraska, prairies and grazing don’t go together.  The idea of allowing big stompy animals to eat and crush plants just seems wrong, and the few pastures (mostly chronically overgrazed) they’ve seen bolster that opinion.  The prairie aesthetic in eastern tallgrass prairie is generally one of tall and abundant grass and blooming wildflowers.

On the flip side, ranchers I work with in the Great Plains tend to have a very different aesthetic.  To many of them, a grassland with tall plants that are producing seed is a waste.  That productivity should be put to USE!  We have a big world to feed, after all…  A pleasing-looking prairie to many Great Plains ranchers is one that is not too tall, not too short, and dominated by grasses, not “weeds”.  This is not a universally-held opinion among ranchers, of course, but common.

This photo is very aesthetically pleasing to me.  I like the patchiness of the habitat, the floristic diversity, and the presence of grazers showing that the prairie is changing at the moment the photo was taken.  However, some people will recoil at the site of cattle in a prairie, while others will see an undergrazed prairie full of weeds.

This photo is very aesthetically pleasing to me. I like the patchiness of the habitat, the floristic diversity, and the presence of grazers showing that the prairie is changing at the moment the photo was taken. However, some people will recoil at the site of cattle in a prairie, while others will see an undergrazed prairie full of weeds.

I spend a lot of time talking to both audiences (and many others) about prairies and the positive attributes of both grazing and rest.  I try to explain that plants can easily survive being stepped on and bitten off, and that there can be great value in adding large herbivores to the mix – at least in many prairies.  At the same time, I offer reminders that periodically allowing plants to produce seed heads is both good for habitat and builds vigor in those plants that can help provide stronger and more consistent productivity – especially under stressful conditions.

However, Packard’s post reminds me that it’s important to address the issues of prairie ecology and management from an aesthetic standpoint as well.  It’s one thing for us to agree on the principles of how a prairie should be managed, but if we stand and look at a prairie with very different visual desires and expectations, we’re going to have problems.

My personal prairie aesthetic is one of change and progression.  I like prairies that are DOING something, mainly because I think fits with what prairies are – dynamic ecological systems that are constantly in flux.  Prairie communities are constantly changing in response to fire, grazing, haying, rest, or weather.  Their resilience and ability to adapt to stresses both defines and preserves them.

Fire is one of several major factors that propels change in prairies.

Fire is one of several major factors that propels change in prairies.

Our Platte River Prairies change in appearance pretty drastically through both time and space.  As you walk through our prairies, you can find areas that are being intensively grazed by cattle, other areas recovering from a recent bout of that kind of grazing, and still other areas that are tall and rank.  Just about everyone would be able to find something aesthetically pleasing in our prairies if they walked far enough, but many people would also find areas they thought were jarring or ugly.  If they walked the same path a year later, they’d likely see a similar mix of habitats, but in different places and with different appearances than in the previous year.

Packard’s post has stimulated me to think about how I can more effectively portray the dynamism of prairies.  Photography is obviously a major communication tool for me, but individual photographs provide only a quick snapshot (literally) of what something looks like at the time the picture was taken.  To show change, I need to use series of photos that cover long periods of time.  The timelapse cameras at our Niobrara Valley Preserve and the restored wetland in our Platte River Prairies both help with that, but I should also be taking more photos of other places through time to show how they change from season to season and year to year.

When I see this photo, I see a prairie that has responded to drought and wildfire from a year ago, and is also being affected by bison grazing.  However, to people who aren't familiar with the site and its recent history, the photo is less instructive.

When I see this photo, I see a prairie that is responding to drought and wildfire from a year ago, and is also being affected by bison grazing. However, to people who aren’t familiar with the site and its recent history, the photo is less instructive. A series of photos over several years would help me share the change I see much more effectively. The Nature Conservancy’s Niobrara Valley Preserve.

What’s your personal prairie aesthetic?  Does it include change or is it a static image of what a prairie should look like?

 Please consider visiting Stephen Packard’s blog at: http://woodsandprairie.blogspot.com/