Bruce Morrison is a working artist and photographer living with his wife Georgeann in rural southeast O’Brien County, Iowa. Bruce works from his studio/gallery–a renovated late 1920s brooding house/sheep barn. You can follow Morrison on his artist blog, Prairie Hill Farm Studio, or visit his website at Morrison’s studio.
I can’t remember the first time I visited a prairie during the Fall season, but believe it was on Cayler Prairie in Dickinson County. I do remember how struck I was with the color everywhere! It had never occurred to me that prairie habitat would exhibit this color change—duh! So used to autumn color in the forested landscape; the trees that we herald each fall lighting up the scenery with vivid to subtle colors of reds, yellows, orange and ambers! But grasses and plants of prairies? Well, why not?
All plants have the same triggers that cause a color change when autumn arrives. As temperatures drop and daylight duration shortens, chlorophyll (the green pigment) breaks down, revealing other pigments. The carotenoids in differing plants bring on yellows and orange hues as the plant chlorophyll fades. And other plants produce anthocyanins in response to sunlight and cooler temperatures, resulting in red and purple colors. Different species have varying pigment compositions, affecting each type’s fall colors. For instance in the image of Stiff goldenrods (Solidago rigida):
And in the next image’s examples of Switchgrass (Panicum virgatum) on the left, and Big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii) on the right.
But autumn on the prairie has so many other cues and characteristics that are in plain sight visually. Color, shapes, and life stage signs; easily noticeable and obvious in our native pastures now.
Autumn here on our small prairie remnant in southeast O’Brien County always means goldenrods and asters. And the Maximillian sunflowers are the final dominant sunflower member left celebrating fall with them.
New England aster (Aster novae-angliae) is possibly the most showy and varied aster as far as a blossom color and size is concerned. We see large plants, many the size of good size bushes, and colors from magenta to nearly pink, and violet or purple to nearly blue—all in the same pasture. And they contrast nicely with the Tall goldenrod (Solidago altissima) or Canada goldenrod (Solidago canadensis) still in flower.
The Smooth Blue Aster (Symphyotrichum laeve) and the Heath Asters (Symphyotrichum ericoides) are dominating patches of ground here and there through the early fall; these colors are not what autumn usually brings to mind, but they are the epitome of fall in the prairie here.
Smooth Blue Aster (Symphyotrichum laeve):
Smooth Blue Aster (Symphyotrichum laeve) among the drying seed heads of Gray-headed or Yellow Coneflowers (Ratibida pinnata):
The Heath asters (Symphyotrichum ericoides) are having a very good year here; mats of these asters have become large and surprisingly challenging to walk through!
Heath asters (Symphyotrichum ericoides):
The Maximillian sunflowers (Helianthus maximiliani) are still drawing invertebrate interest and a visual splash of yellow along our gravel esker slopes…
Autumn is also the final visual gasp of invertebrates on the prairie. The fourth and greatest generation of monarch butterflies have just finished pupating and can still be seen passing through these small remnants we call home. We’ve watched monarchs here as late as mid October on more than a handful of years, and it never ceases to amaze me that their destination is so far away in Mexico.
We actually get roosts here most late summer and autumns, but the fall roosts are quit a bit smaller than their earlier rush south in late August through early September…seeing Monarchs roosting overnight on the Big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii) or the seed heads of other plants, like Gray-headed coneflowers (Ratibida pinnata) is sublime.
These flashes of fluttering and sailing colors are a joy to watch each year. Combine them with the New England asters (Aster novae-angliae) and the Tall or Canada goldenrods, and it’s quite the show!
With autumn’s arrival I have to distract myself from much of the visual feast and get down to the business of care taking and stewardship on our remnants. First comes the time for harvest. It actually begins in mid-summer, but I am often tardy to these tasks and do miss early seed collecting opportunities, like with Prairie phlox and Canada anemone, to name a couple that come to mind…oops.
Now the pressure is on, and out we go with our five-gallon buckets. Much is already available for picking in the early fall: both of our prairie clovers, the Golden Alexanders, False Gromwell, Gray-headed (or Yellow) Coneflowers, False Bonesets, Prairie Roses (rose hips), Narrow-leaved Purple Coneflower, Rattlesnake master, Prairie Onion, Prairie Coreopsis, Canada Milkvetch, Prairie Cinquefoil, Sideoats Gramma, Canada Wild Rye, and many, many others.
Why are we collecting seed? While our small pastures are what I would call “remnants” (they already had a population of eleven native grasses and more than three dozen types of forbs that we were able to identify when we arrived 23 years ago), there was severe sheep and cattle grazing on this ground for decades before we got here.
Even though our north pasture had some very steep slopes with amazing finds, it and the south pasture had been abused for years. That created some problem “sections” with little native grass or forb cover, usually an area of a Brome monoculture. Most of these large “patches” are on the bottom areas, not as much on the slopes. We take our seed harvest and broadcast over those areas each late fall or early winter—but only after a burn. We need as much exposed dirt as we can for seed contact.
When we do fall or early winter burns, we isolate the areas needing to be over seeded, and we follow the weather very closely before burning and doing that over seeding! We have mowed fire breaks that we maintain all spring through fall. These break our pastures into separate paddocks. These paddocks are loosely scheduled each year for a rest or a burn. The weather tends to make the decisions for us; for instance, our northwest Iowa drought from 2000 to 2003 kept most burns at bay.
Most of our non-planting burns are done in the spring to help control the non-native grasses and promote flowering of the forbs (wildflowers). The autumn/early winter burns are strictly done for over seeding. We always do that seeding just as frontal systems of either rains or snow are approaching—preferably snow, so the seeding is buried and ready to undergo a natural period of cold, freezing, thawing, and extended ground contact.
We’ve often done these over seeding events just as the front approaches and into the early night time. The seed is mixed and stirred into damp buckets of sand, to scarify the seed and also break down the parachutes that would otherwise just allow it to blow away as you broadcast—seed like the milkweeds and the aster for instance. The sand also helps you see where you have already broadcast as you walk back and forth. It’s always a gamble. but we have no equipment to do so otherwise No drills, no tractors, just us old prairie souls scraping it out here ourselves!
Little Bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium) in seed with a broad backdrop of a Compass Plant (Silphium laciniatum) leaf. Its carotenoids are bringing on the yellows and orange hues as the plant’s chlorophyll fades.
Autumn slope of Prairie Muhly (Muhlenbergia cuspidata) with some scattered Stiff Goldenrod (Solidago rigida):
Common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca) Pods bursting…
Smooth blue aster (Symphyotrichum laeve) and dried Gray-headed coneflower (Ratibida pinnata) seed heads…
Autumn on a small prairie remnant: the colors and sounds, the smells, and just that crisp feeling in the air. It is certainly hard work, but so, so worth every moment!