The Mead’s Milkweed is listed as an endangered species by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife service. Yesterday, I had an opportunity to help collect some seed of this rare plant from a field that was soon to be hayed. The seed will be taken to a local botanical garden to propagate new plants that can be returned to protected prairies.
August in the Midwest can be sweltering and I was concerned that this outing was planned for one in the afternoon, when the sun could be expected to be at its cruelest. Fortunately, the day was overcast and not excessively hot. Our small crew found our way – after a few wrong turns – from a Kansas State Park to the farmer’s hayfield.
The group’s organizer had been out earlier in the summer to mark the Mead’s Milkweed plants with poles and red flags. He had also covered the seed pods with netting to help protect them from the deer and to contain any of the silky seeds that might mature and float off early. The landowner had agreed to postpone his haying until the seed had formed. But he was planning to hay this field in the next week. The proper permits to harvest seeds of an endangered species had been obtained.
We were armed against chiggers with insect repellent and socks tucked into our pant legs. Some people think that human’s love of an open expanse of grass is genetically programmed from our early days on the savannas. Though I love to visit the mountains or oceans, the landscape of a sea of grass and wildflowers in a gentle breeze is one of my favorite sights. And I was out here on this day collecting not just the Mead’s Milkweed seed but other seeds for prairie restorations in Missouri and Kansas. Some of my companions were amateur experts in the plants of the prairies. And they were happy to share their knowledge. What an incredible afternoon.
You might ask how these milkweeds happened to be in this place and not others. Scattered throughout the Midwest are fields that have never been plowed. For whatever reason, these fields have been used for grazing or hay production but not row crops. The field that we were wandering in was a true remnant of the tall grass prairie that once spread across a large portion of Missouri and Kansas. All around us were native grasses – bluestems, Canadian rye, prairie dropseed. This time of the year a variety of sunflowers were the predominant forbes in bloom, most as tall or taller than we were. Only 1 percent of this ecosystem remains.
This is what retirement is meant for. I’m so grateful to have the time to be able to participate in this kind of activity.
Our Own Time 