Thursday, May 11, 2017

A Continuation of the Millet Story: One Man's Weed is Another's Treasure

What now looks pretty sterile and nondescript is going to change dramatically in the next several weeks

We've now had just enough sunshine and warmer temperatures that we can start talking wetland plants again -- in the present tense. But as is so often the case, patience is a must. As you'll see below, we're going to start modestly.

I finally circled back and told the first several chapters of the Japanese Millet Story: West Marsh Edition. You can find the narrative on the bottom half of the 2016 summary page. But the images I share today are a continuation of this restoration initiative.

Quickly, let me provide some context. The 40-acre "Rest Pond" that resides just to the north of the newly rehabbed dike on our West Marsh has been maintained in a "deep water" state for years (maybe decades). Deep is a relative term, but when we took possession of the property, it was 3-4' deep with next-to-no life, much less vegetation in it (aside from several thousand carp that happily rooted through the soft sediment and patches of invasive curly-leaf pondweed as they passed between the marsh and bay).

This basin of "chocolate milk" has undergone a major transformation in the last 13 months (again, refer to the bottom of the 2016 summary page), but essentially, we drained it (May/June), seeded it with millet (June), let it grow all last summer (June-August), flooded it again in the fall to coax more duck activity(August - November), and then are draining it again this spring.


The photo at the top of this post shows where we are today (or this past Tuesday, anyway). It might not look like much from a landscape view, but what's going on at ground level is pretty exciting.

The close-up to the left shows a virtual carpet of newly emerging smartweed (in all likelihood Polygonum lapathifolium or P. pennsylvanicum -- a little early to distinguish). While only 2" tall, this is a really good sign. Last year's efforts seem to be paying dividends already. These seed-rich annuals will provide good cover and high energy to a broad array of waterfowl and wildlife.

By attracting outsiders to forage, this smartweed prompts what I like to call "digestive contributions" -- essentially, importing desirable seed sources through the digestive process: in the mouth somewhere else (maybe up or down the bay), and out the other end in our marsh!

It practically took being on our hands and knees to see the modest starts of thin-bladed grasses barely visible in the bare margins of the millet (see right). We hope that these individuals will ultimately prove to be rice cutgrass (Leersia oryzoides) or any of dozens of other grass-like species that offer the two key attributes that the smartweeds above offer: good forage and good cover.

Ideally, we will end up with a diverse mix of many of these "desirables," as I like to call them. High diversity of many plant species interspersed within a given area is almost always preferred over a monoculture (one species in a given area). Again, time will tell, but trust that we will be watching closely as the "Rest Pond" evolves!

While I'll readily admit that I'm not going to win any photography contests for any of these photos, it's also worth noting that we found some not-so-desirable plant species showing themselves among the skeletons of last year's millet. (NOTE that you can click on most photos to enlarge.) The spindly starts to the left are flowering rush (Butomus umbellatus), and unlike our namesake, are neither native nor desirable. We don't anticipate huge outbreaks, but we figured we'd have to stay vigilant and spot-treat them as we find them. The broader leaves of the plant on the right are another smartweed (P. amphibium), but they are less desirable because they tend to grow aggressively in a monoculture, and they don't provide much food value. The good news for us here is that they prefer expanses of open water, and they will likely get out competed before they can really get a foothold.


That's probably enough botany for today. I promise I'll try to have a little more color to display next time -- as long as our stubborn spring continues to bump warmer and brighter!