The Air Was Still Alive with Sound, As it Should Be

August 4, 2011

Steve Guettermann, 2011 BioBlitz Participant

Too often I go to pristine natural areas that are too quiet and almost devoid of wildlife. The Great Plains are not meant to be quiet; nor are they meant to have the quiet interrupted only by machines or cattle. They are meant to pulse with natural sound: the buzz of insects, the song of birds, the howls of coyotes and wolves, the bellows and battles of bison and elk bulls, gopher and prairie dog talk, the rustle of wind and crack of thunder.

The sound I’ve noticed disappearing the most from my early wanderings among the plains is the absence of songbirds. I remember sitting on grassy hilltops surrounded by bird song, but it had been years since I had that experience until I went to the American Prairie Reserve.

There were not only songbirds calling, but shorebirds and ducks. The air was alive with their sound, as it should be. The absolute silence at 3 a.m. was astounding, considering the noise with which we usually live with. But at 4:30 a.m., when the birds started their day, they told me that Life was still alive and well on the American Prairie Reserve. Thanks for the wake up call!

Not Just One Big Field of Grass

August 4, 2011

Courtney Eilts
2011 BioBlitz Participant & College Student from Apple Valley, Minnesota

I came from a high school of environmental studies in Minnesota, so BioBlitz on American Prairie Reserve was a fun opportunity to get away and do something I’m interested in.

The time we spent on the prairie for BioBlitz was an eye-opening experience. Beforehand, I thought of the prairie as just kind of tall grass.  Just grass—and that’s what I thought it was.  It was really cool to go out there and actually see that there’s variation in the land and it’s not just one big field of grass.  I didn’t realize there were that many animals and that many different types of shrubs and plants and even trees. I really didn’t expect to find all that wildlife.  The amount of biodiversity on the prairie surprised me in general.

I really enjoyed talking to scientists at BioBlitz and hearing how they were so passionate about their research.  I remember talking to the scientist who specialized in flies, and I didn’t know someone could be so passionate about flies.  I could see myself someday being that person who’s super passionate about flies.

If I went back to the Reserve, I think camping there would be awesome. I also hope I can make connections with professors to possibly do field work there.

Hope that Leopold’s Dream Can Come True

July 12, 2011

Ella Rowan, 2011 BioBlitz Participant

The APR was a very peaceful and beautiful place, which will only improve over time.  I was impressed with the diversity of species we saw and the devotion of the employees we met.

We encountered a thunderstorm the first evening, which gave a spectacular light show!  The long spring rains provided us with tall lush grass and numerous bodies of water to look for aquatic life.

I enjoyed waking up to sound of birds, smelling the fresh air and having the chance to learn about many new species from the experts.  Everyone was in a good mood…nature makes us happy.

Knowing that this property has the chance to become a prairie landscape once again gives me hope that Leopold’s dream can come true…for the prairies to once again tickle the bellies of the bison.

Finding the Big Sky of the Big Sky Country

June 23, 2011

Lauren Koshere, APF Marketing Intern

I imagine I have something in common with many people when I reveal that my first visit to Montana was a mission to mountains.  On a road trip one summer during high school, my dad and I drove from Wisconsin to Glacier National Park, and I saw the Rocky Mountains for the first time.

I remember one prevailing surprise about my time in Glacier that year—the proximity of mountains to many roads and hiking trails in the Park made me feel enclosed.  In those spots, the mountains were like walls around me. Between mountain slopes, the sky was a limited stretch of blue that I often had to crane my neck to see.

I felt a little like the character Harry Dunne, who wakes up in a car in the movie Dumb & Dumber after his friend’s inadvertent wrong turn on a road trip to Colorado lands them in the middle of Nebraska: “Huh,” he says, “I expected the Rocky Mountains to be a little Rockier than this.”

On my first day in Glacier, I thought, “Huh, I expected the Big Sky Country to have a little Bigger Sky than this.“

It must be an honest mistake—to come to see Montana’s mountains and wonder where they keep the Big Sky of Big Sky Country. For the rest of my Glacier trip, I looked for the Big Sky.   I realized that the incredible scale of Glacier National Park did, indeed, afford grand scenes and broad vistas, but I still wasn’t sold that the sky itself was technically any “bigger” there than anywhere else.

Although it’s been nine years since my first trip to Montana, and I’ve lived in this state now for nearly two years, I recently found the Big Sky I had been seeking on that first trip to Glacier.

It’s on the prairie.

I pass my first hour on American Prairie Reserve walking on a two-track road along a reservoir on Beaver Creek.  It’s the middle of June.  Within the first five minutes of walking, my experience is consumed by my senses.  What appears as a still landscape at initial glance, from a vehicle passing at 70 miles per hour or airplane at 500 miles per hour, is anything but.  There is no ignoring the bright hum of insects and birds near the water, the spicy wafts of vegetation and wildflowers in the warm air, the pressing heat of late afternoon sunlight on my dark hair.

This afternoon, though, of all senses, it is sight that upstages.  Spending time in the Rockies has oriented my eyes and mind to the grand views of mountain-scapes—vistas that stretch from the ground up.  But the prairie is different.  On the prairie, what commands my attention is what stretches from the heavens down:  light and sky.  Big Sky.  Here it is.

Thick gray clouds pile on the southeast horizon as a cool breeze rises, cutting the warm afternoon sun and tussling the shiny leaves of cottonwoods.    I can’t keep my eyes or camera off the drama playing out above me.   The shifting clouds and light make a new sky every time I look up.  At one point, I take a photo of a wetland with angles of sun and blue sky glistening across its waters.  Five minutes later, my photo of the same wetland captures a different scene:  the sun-glisten has been blunted by silver-gray reflections of rolling storm clouds.   The sky is different now, which means the colors are different.  The light is different.

This walk reveals that, on the prairie, drama plays out above.  Each day, each hour, each minute is marked by a unique fingerprint—that ever-dynamic arrangement of clouds and light at a given moment.  Here, the Big Sky is always a new sky. I’m glad I’ve finally found it.

Do You Have a Story To Share?

We would love to hear about your time on the Reserve. You are welcome to consider the following prompts as starting points, but please feel free to share as much or as little as you’d like, on any aspect of your experience that you’d like to write about.

• What stories about the Reserve did you find yourself telling others after your visit?
• What discoveries did you make in your time on the Reserve?  (Consider defining “discoveries” as broadly as you wish)
• What surprised you about the Reserve?
• How is the Reserve special in contrast/comparison to other natural reserve areas you have visited?
• What aspects of the prairie would draw you back to the Reserve?

Please e-mail your story to mail@americanprairie.org.  For complete APF contact information, please see our Contact Us page.