Terrestrial ecosystems are defined by their vegetative community. The plants are what makes a landscape feel like home. Even people unfamiliar with the specific plant species can feel the textures across a landscape shift with the vegetation. Plants like trees, grasses, and even forbs provide the diversity of structures necessary for animals to make their homes. Plants have harnessed the power of the bountiful sun, using her intangible forces to create life-sustaining energy which they charitably give to us less-capable consumers. Plants are the backbone of terrestrial life as we know it. When habitats are degraded, it often starts with the plant community. As the vegetation changes, so do the animals that call the landscape home. As prairies are converted to croplands or invasive species emerge, the unique structures provided by the original inhabitants disappear. In order to build back this broken system we need to start with the foundations. Thus when conservationists begin a restoration, we start with the plants.
In some restorations, changing the physical landscape is all you need to restore a plant community, but in most cases, the best way to restore diversity is through seeding. However, not all seeds are created equal. It’s best to source seeds from nearby locations, as many species have local ecotypes specifically evolved for the microclimatic conditions of an area. To keep our seed source local, we collect as much of it as possible on site.
There are a variety of methods for seed collecting, but we do most of it by hand. I love feeling the different textures of seeds and smelling the aromatic plants. For each species, we’d use slightly different techniques. Some plants we’d clip the whole seed head off whereas others we’d rake our fingers across the plant and grab what was ready. Some of my favorite plants to collect included little bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium) and white sagebrush (Artemisia ludoviciana). To collect little bluestem, I’d rake my fingers through the grass, like I was gently combing a loved one’s hair. After collecting the sage, the smell would stain my hands and linger in our truck for days. It was pleasant to step into the cab and be greeted by the gentle scent of sage rather than the usual mysterious mustiness.
When collecting seed, it’s important to remember not to take too much. It defeats the purpose of restorations if you end up depleting the healthy donor prairie. One of the best ways to accomplish this is by following the guidelines set by the Indigenous philosophy of Honorable Harvest. As Indigenous cultures rely on oral storytelling to pass on knowledge, there isn’t a stagnant written definition, but in her book Braiding Sweetgrass Robin Wall-Kimmerer describes it as “rules of sorts that govern our taking, shape our relationships with the natural world, and rein in our tendency to consume.” The protocols vary across communities and cultures, but the core message is to constantly remind ourselves to share. Some of the rules within Honorable Harvest include leaving the first and last plant you see, only taking what you need, leaving some from others, using everything that you take, and only taking what is freely given to you. When seed collecting, I work these practices into my routine.
I take no more than 50% of the seeds from any given plant. Not only does this leave enough seeds behind to feed migrating birds, overwintering small mammals, and replenish the seedbank, but it also promotes diversity. Collecting all of your seeds from the same plant or plants in close proximity to each other causes you to collect plants that are closely related. If you only take a little bit from numerous individuals rather than a lot from one plant, you’ll get seed that is more representative of the population and resilient.
Although we don’t use everything we collect, we don’t waste it either. Much of what we collect consists of chaff. Before seeding our restorations, we run our collected seed through a hammer mill to break up the chaff into smaller pieces that’ll fit through our seeder. It’s impossible to remove all of the pure seed from the chaff, so whatever large pieces don’t fit through our machine we use to overseed ditches or established prairies. The missed seeds in the chaff act as a biodiversity boost. The chaff itself can be used as bedding for small mammals or birds before eventually breaking down into nutrient-rich soil for future plants to use.
The idea of taking only what is given freely may not make sense to those unfamiliar with Indigenous ideas. After all, isn’t everything freely given? How can a plant deny you permission? They can’t say “Leave my seed alone buddy!” Nonetheless, if you learn how to listen, plants easily communicate what is yours to take. Most seeds are easy to collect. They’ll crumble right off or the entire seed head will break off into your hand. However, if the seed isn’t quite ready yet, it becomes much more difficult to collect. Much of the seeds will still be green and what was once something you could break off with your bare hands requires hand shears. Simply stated, seed collecting should be easy. If the plant is making it difficult, they’re telling you no.
I don’t always follow these practices with 100% accuracy. When I see a rare species, sometimes I’ll get excited and harvest the first plant or take closer to 90% of the available seed. But even in these cases, I still remember to practice gratitude. Even though I was born and raised 500 miles away from here, the prairie still feels like home. These plants act as the foundation to an ecosystem I can’t imagine living without. Without each of these unique plant species, the prairie loses a piece of itself, like a mosaic missing a single tile. If we let new tiles continue to tumble away, soon we won’t be looking at the same picture. It’s up to us to invest in protecting each individual species, which starts with a single seed.
Want to learn more about seed collecting at the Trust? Check out Matt’s blog here or Emma’s Facebook post here. Be sure to follow our Instagram and Facebook to see more about the seed cleaning process! To learn more about Honorable Harvest check out Robin Wall-Kimmerer’s Yes Magazine article here or pick up a copy of Braiding Sweetgrass at your local bookstore!
Eleanor Muzzy
Saunders Conservation Fellow 2024-2025
Prior to coming to the Crane Trust, Eleanor had worked predominantly with tallgrass prairies around the Twin Cities in Minnesota. She has a strong background with collecting vegetative data and treating invasive plant species.
emuzzy@cranetrust.org
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