One consistent difficulty was “scheduling” work times. Nature is not inclined to follow human calendars. Scheduling work 1-2 weeks earlier presented difficulties; rain, muddy soils, cold, hot winds meant the experience would not be a good one. We needed to be flexible and follow nature’s cues.

In the first 2 years, many volunteered. The garden was new, people saw its potential, and the interest was great. That third year, volunteers tapered off. For some, gardening was “work”, but the returns were enormous: Participants talked about experiencing peace and calm in getting their hands into the soil; they shared stories of their pasts; they learned about prairie as they shared gentle conversation with kindred spirits.

I did not measure success by numbers who showed up. Since 2001, the garden expanded twice. Many want more prairie, but my limit has arrived. For now I will coordinate Soaring Eagle Prairie. My focus became imbedding the prairie into programs and lives here. I shall support other gardens on campus, but they will get done in their own time in their own way.

As the fourth summer arrived, more people expressed interest in working. A core was arising committed to the work of the garden.

Did I mention weeds? It has taken a short time for humans to eradicate prairie. To reintroduce prairie is not quick. It takes patience, another teaching for our time. A newly introduced prairie takes more tending those first 5 years. Open soils are perfect homes for weedy, exotic species whose seeds (with long term viability) are heavily present in the soil. In contrast, prairie plants are slow growing.

We needed to prepare the soil prior to planting to insure success. No chemicals, thank you. Many prairie plants will not survive chemicals plus many human friends are also vulnerable. Since the garden had been lawn before, we needed to remove ALL quack grass roots prior to planting. Quack grass’s long tenacious roots can ruin a prairie garden. My husband Richard Crawford (also a prairie advocate) with help turned the soil by hand 3 times pulling out roots. This long slow meditative process was successful.

After we planted plants, we dug out weeds that appeared as quickly as possible and especially before they set seed. As prairie plants grew, they covered the area. The “weeds” are now less likely to be found because they have been outcompeted by prairie.

We needed to hold aggressive prairie plants in check, including Giant Goldenrod, Dogbane, and Evening Primrose. Sometimes we as humans overextend our reach. As we hold ourselves to a more respectful space, we give others their own space to grow.

The garden was thriving summer 2004, but someone had cut the showy Purple Vervain, which was our own version of Barry Commoner’s “tragedy of the commons”. We share certain things and they belong to all of us. Other examples include the air, water, wilderness. Taking from the commons takes from us all.

Occasional litter blows in from who knows where. Sometimes people leave cigarette butts where they have enjoyed a smoke beside the garden. I walk around the garden at intervals, picking up litter. This simple act respects the prairie. Plus it recognizes that where litter exists, others are more likely to dump there. I invite anyone who cares about our garden to pick up litter. It isn’t a big job. While you are there, enjoy the prairie and simply give a little back by taking the litter away.