Nebraskaland

May 2020 • Nebraskaland 25 A small ant (Lasius neoniger) backlit on a sunflower leaf. the strip, and the nearly constant sound of barking dogs emanates from the adjacent animal shelter. I placed my fl ags between the mowed trail and a wooded oxbow, selecting a plot that contained some charismatic plants, but was representative of the prairie around me. Over the next year, my camera and I visited that plot 46 times. One aspect of my invented challenge was to document as many species of animals and plants as I could within the square meter plot. My rule was that I could only count a species if I got a solid publishable photo of it. That rule defi nitely limited my grand total of species. I didn't, for example, get to count the juvenile rabbit that liked to sun itself right next to my plot. I also missed out on the vole(s) that had a trail through the plot but never stuck around to be photographed. And, of course, there were countless butterfl ies, moths, fl ies and other wary invertebrates that I saw but couldn't photograph before they escaped. Despite all those misses, I was still able to document an astonishing 113 species within that 1x1 square meter. That grand total of species included 15 diff erent kinds of plants – a respectable number for a square meter of restored prairie in central Nebraska. Apart from one fabulous tree frog, the rest of the tally consisted of invertebrates. I photographed 14 kinds of bees, 18 beetles and an astounding 22 species of fl ies. The count also included seven species of spider, seven true bugs (a distinct category of insect), fi ve ants, fi ve moths and butterfl ies, and many more. I've spent more than 25 years studying and exploring prairies, so I knew I'd fi nd quite a few species within that tiny area of prairie. Nevertheless, I was blown away by the fi nal total. I frequently tell people prairies are incredibly diverse, but that they usually make you work to fi nd it. I talk about the way grassland communities are constantly in fl ux, with new fl owers blooming as others wilt, and new insects emerging as others go dormant. Plants and animals grow, mature and die, each on their own individual schedule. As a result, every visit to a prairie yields a diff erent set of stories and experiences. I say those things all the time, but I still didn't realize the full extent of those truths about prairie until I spent a year studying one tiny piece of it. My biggest fear about the project was that I'd end up wasting a lot of great photography light by sitting by my plot and not chasing the light across the prairie. Normally, when the wind is relatively calm and the sun is close to the horizon or behind thin clouds, my camera and I go on long meandering journeys, searching for interesting subject matter. Over the years, I've become adept at spotting distinctive insects or fl owers, or just interesting combinations of light and texture, while on the move. By covering a lot of ground, I feel like I take maximum advantage of what's available at a particular site. As a result, the thought of kneeling and peering into a tiny square seemed like it might quickly become frustrating. The opposite happened. Instead of being irritated about sitting at my square meter plot, I found myself feeling anxious when I wasn't. I would be wandering around a beautiful Platte River meadow or cresting a Sandhills dune, surrounded by wonder and light, and all I could think about was what might be happening back at my little square. Why? Because once I started staring into that tiny world, I found an incredible diversity of narratives, images and life. Sitting quietly and staring into a tiny space allowed me access to stories I never would have experienced otherwise. I watched spiders and other small predators stalk and catch – and miss – prey. I discovered fl ies, wasps and other creatures so small I didn't notice them until they moved. I photographed numerous insect species I'd never seen An Arabesque orbweaver spider (Neoscona arabesca) dangles daintily on a silken thread. A monarch butterfly that stopped at the plot during fall migration.

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