Going Wild

at The Wilds, a wildlife preserve (now part of the Columbus Zoo) that has turned a former strip mine in southern Ohio into a breeding facility for endangered species, like these Southern white rhinos. The Wilds' breeding program has, in fact, been so successful that it is the only place outside Africa where fifth-generation rhino calves have been born.

While ethical arguments have been made against zoos and captive breeding, the heartbreaking truth is that some animals are now extinct in the wild and exist only because teams of scientists cared enough to breed them before they disappeared. These Pere David's deer are just one example.

To those unfamiliar with the history of this region of Ohio, The Wilds look, well, wild, with most of the facility's 10,000 acres consisting of rolling grasslands that resemble a romantic's idea of the primeval savanna. 

The reality, of course, is different. With so many rare and endangered species from various regions, The Wilds has extensive fencing, since those animals need to be protected from predators, human and other. (It would not do to have the cheetahs taking down the antelopes, as cheetahs are wont to do.) And southern Ohio is not sub-Saharan savanna. Prior to being strip-mined, this acreage was eastern hardwood forest, part of the tree cover reputed to have been so dense that a squirrel could travel from Pittsburg to Cincinnati without touching the ground (not that either city existed in those days). After strip-mining, it was a moonscape.

To be fair to AEP, the property's former owner, the company did what was legally required as reclamation. In the 1950s, it planted trees to cover the land's scars. Later, when recreating the site's "approximate original contours" was mandated, earth-moving equipment was used to shape the gentle hills we see today, and pasture grasses were planted. Both sections look reasonably decent. The browsing animals being reared here make good use of the pasture areas, and a surprising number of those trees have survived, hiding the cliffs left when the original hills were gouged for coal. But there are (at least) two problems: cool-season pasture grasses are not native to North America and do a lousy job of promoting biodiversity on this continent, and most hardwoods require a deep, rich soil to thrive. The dirt left after mining does not meet this criterion. As soil scientist Nicola Lorenz demonstrated on the day I visited The Wilds, much of this vast tract now consists of red or yellow clay subsoil covered with an inch or less of actual topsoil containing organic matter.

My visit to The Wilds was occasioned by its hosting of the Ohio Prairie Conference, which is generally held in one of the western counties of Ohio's prairie region. The Wilds was chosen as the site for this year's conference because, a few years ago, the facility's restoration ecologists began converting sections of the not-great pasture to native prairie. The results are impressive

especially when the floral diversity of the prairie areas is compared with that of the pasture-grass areas.

The prairies at The Wilds include gorgeous Ohio natives, like cup plant

and blue vervain,

which was blooming both in the prairie plantings and near the wetland, where it partners nicely with rose mallow, or wild hibiscus.

Prairie plants are not just beautiful; most have deep roots that can break up clay soil, and their annual dieback increases the organic matter needed on this disturbed land while sequestering the carbon that would otherwise contribute to climate change. They help control runoff and, perhaps more importantly, some species absorb the toxins present on a site like this.

The plant diversity introduced in the restoration has resulted in increased animal diversity. Uphill from the flowers pictured above, beavers have moved in and are busily re-engineering the landscape. Grassland birds have returned and are nesting among the prairie plants. Bees and butterflies were everywhere on the day of the conference, and the amphibians and small mammals have returned. And while not everyone will be thrilled by this development, native snakes have found their way to the site and are breeding in the prairies, as demonstrated by this very pregnant garter snake, found thermo-regulating herself under one of the sheets of corrugated metal (sneakily installed for the purpose of encouraging snakes to visit places where they can be documented).

Most visitors to The Wilds go there for the exotic animals, which are impressive, but it is good to know that this former strip mine is once again becoming a part of Wild Ohio.

The wealth of the kingdom

I have never been sure why the name monarch got assigned to the butterfly that bears it, since Danaus plexippus is neither the largest nor (to my eye) the most beautiful of North American butterflies, though it may have the most compelling story. But it has the name it does, and the metaphor of royalty works in its case.

A trailside sign in Lucas County's Blue Creek Conservation area notes that the park system "take[s] this prairie to the bank," since it serves as a major seed nursery. To mix metaphors, for monarch butterflies, this just-out-of-town restored prairie is a palace where a feast is being held.

While no monarchs would get close enough to be photographed, this field was full of them, nectaring and (I suspect) looking for places to lay eggs. Some prime spots had already been chosen.

"Weedy" areas are essential habitat for a variety of creatures. This particular prairie patch (and that is what it is: a hundred years ago, this area was home to an active limestone quarry and a prison farm) hosts not only butterflies but several bee species, field sparrows, finches, blackbirds, raptors, rodents, and, next to the old quarry, a variety of dragonflies, damselflies and at least one great blue heron.

To most humans, this conservation area may not look like much, but to many other creatures, places like this are some of the wealthiest "kingdoms" imaginable. They even have monarchs.