Already this spring, we are seeing random prairie fires starting — some due to negligence, like throwing cigarettes out the window, and others due to sparks from machinery or other modes of transportation that ignite the dry prairie wool. Local municipal governments are cautioning rural landowners to use discretion when it comes to burning on personal land. If rain doesn’t fall in the near future, we may see fire bans established again. There is nothing like a bonfire shared with friends and family; my hope and prayer is that we can share the outdoors with those we love, sooner rather than later.
Hubby has taught me, through his love of the land, how spectacular native grass is. Historically, this bunch grass provided year-round nutrition for many bison. Any rancher who appreciates native grass does what they can to protect it through rotational grazing, the use of bale grazing as well as not over-grazing and eliminating unnecessary disturbances such as driving on it. Hubby was very insistent when we were first married that we could not check cows with the truck; he is a true land manager through and through. Over time, he softened some... as we took random family rides in the old Suzuki Sidekick (redneck version of the Side-by-sides now). However, he still checked cows and treated on horseback until we sold our small ranch four years ago. He encouraged incredible growth on our calving grounds as he used bales for added grazing options on the days when the weather was good. The older I get, the more I respect the land because of Hubby’s tireless love to protect and sustain it.
As I think of the fires that have ravaged pastureland this spring, I contemplate the hardiness of prairie wool. The richness of this perennial rough fescue endures drought and prairie fires. The roots of this grass are incredibly long and extensive, reaching more than four feet in depth in our good Saskatchewan soil. A cool season grass, it tends to emerge early in spring and cures around the first week of October. Ranchers suggest putting calves on this grass in the fall to help put pounds on before they are taken to market. The versatility of this grass can prolong the grazing season into the early winter months if the producer manages his grass well.
After a prairie fire, one can see this spectacular rough fescue grass make a comeback as a fresh new blanket of green emerges from the earth. Out of the ashes emerges beauty and resource. I’d like to think we have similar characteristics of prairie wool. We get hit by undesirable conditions but have the ability to come through with beauty and resources on the other side. Out of the ashes, we rise. The depth of our roots will determine how we go into the next season.
One of my favorite scriptures of all time that I’m sure I’ve shared with you before is Psalm 1: 3: “He shall be like a tree planted by rivers of water that brings forth its fruit in its season, whose leaf also shall not wither and whatever he does shall prosper. He is never dry, never fainting, every blessed, ever prosperous.”
As we navigate into a new normal in our global community, my prayer is that your roots will go down deep and that your heart is steadfast, trusting in God to sustain you and bring you through with beauty and the resources to emerge from this COVID-19 storm. Be encouraged dear ones. As God’s sons and daughters, we will rise from the ashes.
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect the position of this publication.
