Q: Why so many posts about prairies and savannas?
A: Grasslands are the most common ecosystem across the entire continent. They can be found in nearly every state, province, and territory of our three nations, albeit in different forms. In pre-colonial times, they were far more extensive than in the present day, engaging neighboring ecosystems in a battle royale of wildfires, rains, and herd grazing patterns. Grasslands are extremely resilient and adaptable ecosystems that define the wild nature of our continent on the whole: a fairly warm, windy place that is full of water and yet also remarkably dry. They can handle the worst weather we get, including extremes in temperature and precipitation, and manage to survive. Conversely, they are among the most productive and diverse lands on the entire planet, positively exploding with life and beauty with just a little bit of rain and warmth. They can be found at the edge of deserts, in meadows high atop mountains, far north in the tundra or far south in the leeward slopes of tropical Mexico, in sandy expanses left behind from the last glaciers melting away over the Canadian Shield, amidst the pines and palmettos of Florida, in patches of "barrens" surrounding the great cities of New York and Philadelphia, in clearings amongst great forests, and of course, in the great central plains that stretch from Alberta to Coahuila.
What's more, in addition to being emblematic of the frontier and survivalist spirit of this continent, they defy simplification, and are often the most misunderstood ecosystems out there. North American grasslands are often thought of like so:
When in fact they are often wonderful worlds bursting with life like:
In short, they are often far more than meets the eye. On the whole, nature has so many wonderful surprises awaiting for those willing to take the time and explore it. Our hectic world these days is so caught up in activity for the sake of self-benefit that we often overlook the concept of self-improvement, and definitely leave wonder and exploration out of the equation. Quite literally, we cannot see the forest for the trees! Grasslands are wonderful places where we are forced to pay attention to what is underfoot and seemingly invisible to the glancing eye in order to fully appreciate what they have to show us. This was certainly true for my development in observing and understand ecosystems. After I gave the Great Plains a chance, I never looked at a forest the same way again.
Speaking of that, to respond to the question on a more personal level, I had always wondered where the forest stopped and the prairie began. When I was a kid hungry for travel with that dog-eared and bent atlas in my hands, I always envisioned everything from Regina to Dallas to be one giant flat expanse of lawn. I could not help but imagine what the line between this lawn and the forest to the east looked like, and I pictured a dark, lush forest somewhere in Missouri that all of a sudden petered out into the endless prairie, a wall of tree meeting a sea of grass. The search for this grand line of division, though largely dispelled when I started to read about the places in that atlas, has always been a bit in the back of my mind even recently. Whenever I head out west, when driving through Iowa and Missouri, I always take in the scenery with even more intensity and detailed interest than I do elsewhere ecological transitions, or ecotones, occur, expecting to find that line one day. I wanted to know where the forest turned into the plains which gave way to the mountains which became the desert which... you get the point. Ecotones are fascinating worlds of connections between diverse areas, both because of the contrast between life zones they display, and because of the shared features between regions they represent. This dovetails into the next question:
Q: What are some places you have not yet been to in North America that you would put on your "bucket list"?
A: That would make for a very interesting post, and I say that because there are so many places I would want to see before I give myself back to the soil. I suppose here I can cheat and qualify that question with a specific direction: what places would I put on my list of places I am most ecologically curious about? I would say that have to do with transitions, and finding more of my great wall of forests. Specifically, I would give my right eye to see (or rather have seen) where the boreal forest transitions into the central grasslands. Picture an arc stretching from Edmonton to Winnipeg and down towards Minneapolis. The biologist-powers that be call this "Aspen Parkland", where the great forests of spruce, fir, poplars, birches, and pines dance and meet with the prairies. I have always wondered what an outcropping of Canadian Shield granite looks like emerging from tallgrass. Yep, I have very simple desires and plans in life, a man who wants to find a rock sticking out of a field. I imagine very little of this landscape survives intact in the United States, and the best bet would be to find it in Canada in some of the national parks set aside to preserve such a landscape, but the remaining ecotones in Minnesota hold a particular fascination for me because they share many species in common with the lands next door in Michigan and Ontario that I love so much. Algonquin meets the prairie, I can only imagine it!
I would also love to see the Black Hills, as they are the easternmost extension of the great western mountain forests, one of the few places where elements of eastern, western, and northern forests come together, stuck in the middle of hundreds of miles of the Great Plains. Again, I like putting the puzzle together as much as seeing the finished map.
On the same general note:
Q: You seem to be passionate about much of the country (I assume this is referring to the United States specifically), finding something nice about everywhere. Is there any place you could not live? I mean, could you actually live in a desert or on the plains?
A: Probably somewhere in the Deep South, and not out of a cultural bias that leaves me with a raised eyebrow and open mouth whenever I encounter "rednecks" (but when it comes down to it, I find all sorts of people to be far more interesting than undesirable). The Deep South is exotically lovely, what with magnolias, live oaks (Quercus Virginiana) and balcypresses (Taxodium Distichum) dripping in Spanish Moss, and palmettos making the most of the steamy landscape. All the same, it is, well, a steamy landscape. I don't do heat and humidity in combination very well. I would imagine parts of Mississippi would be my least desirable place to live, owing to the conditions and the fact that anything resembling a mountain would be at least a half day drive away. Then again, the flora is lovely, the music is great, and the river and Gulf are never far away. As for the desert and plains, as per my response to the first question, they are not as desolate and devoid of life as they seem to be. They also both tend to be close to mountains, so if I wanted to, I could easily get my fill of some pine forest for a bit. I like both snow and palm trees, so the desert or the southern plains could work nicely, sure. St. George, Utah comes to mind, as they have both.
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| Well, actually, this is Washington, Utah, but that is right next door. |
It also helps to have friends there. The western migration trend never really has stopped, it seems. Anyway, I would probably be most at home in northern Ontario or western Quebec, which would be outside of the United States, but you get the picture. That would be the heart part of my "home is where the heart is" even if I could adapt to any place fairly well. Even if circumstances forced me to live in Jackson, Mississippi, I would hardly consider my life shot to hell, but would get a really powerful air conditioner as soon as possible, or at least a nice ceiling fan. I would explore every nook and cranny of my new home and get to know its flowers, trees, history, and way of naming soft drinks rather well. The Creator left us a nice world to live in, and the least I can do is come to know and appreciate it.
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