Leaning barns, for-sale signs, and hay bales stacked as high and long as boxcars strew the fields east of Lake Ontario. Gail W. Miller steers her Jeep off the paved road and bumps over a newly mown sweep of fresh green shoots. Her field doesn鈥檛 look so different from others around New York鈥檚 Jefferson County, except that the barn is plumb, there are no bales in sight, and the sign at the edge identifies this as a refuge for grassland birds.
鈥淗ere in the Chaumont area, most of these farms had a pretty tough time,鈥 Miller says. 鈥淭he land tends to be clay and shallow.鈥 Bare flats of limestone crop out of the grass. 鈥淎t the top of the rise, where it gently goes up, the soil is eight feet deep.鈥 She knows because she buried a horse there the day before.
Miller鈥檚 family has owned these 178 acres since 1838. Her ancestors were among the veterans of the War of 1812 who settled the Great Lakes border region. They made a living milking cows and cutting hay for a century and a half. Her father worked the land into his eighties. He passed the fields to Miller and her sister, Edith Warner, whose careers took them away from Chaumont and farming. But the place never lost its hold on them.
Miller, 68, moved back home in 1994 and, despite income from jobs as a college administrator and now as a real estate agent, she found it difficult to pay the property taxes. Haying leases brought in some money, and she planted about a hundred grapevines, attempting to join an upstate New York winery movement. But the labor was too much to manage alone, so she looked to other options.
鈥淲e could sell the farm off and I probably wouldn鈥檛 have to worry again, because if I sold it lot by lot, I wouldn鈥檛 have to be struggling,鈥 she says. 鈥淥n the other hand, I saw how hard my father worked on the farm, and I saw how much it mattered to him, and I just can鈥檛 do that.鈥
She heard from a county agricultural agent about a partnership of landowners, , and the state鈥檚 (DEC) to manage fields to allow grasshopper sparrows, eastern meadowlarks, northern harriers, bobolinks, and other grassland birds to fledge successfully. As the fields of faltering farms revert to forest or are displaced by development, these ground nesters have sustained some of the steepest population declines of any group of birds in North America. On remaining agricultural grasslands, early season hay-making destroys nests and sometimes kills adult birds.
Miller submitted an application, and 爆料公社 drafted a management plan that allows mowing only after August 15, when the chicks have safely fledged and migratory birds have moved on. Fields would be mowed in rotation, with a third of the enrolled acres cut each year, and hedgerows would be kept at bay. Miller opted in. A hay grower鈥檚 daughter after all, she loves the sight of tall grass waving in the westerlies off Lake Ontario and dislikes the idea of her family鈥檚 land going to brush as much as the thought of it going to housing lots. Compensation of $55 an acre, administered by the DEC, helps her break even on taxes and carrying costs.
The plan also stirred her sense of something lost. 鈥淚 remember my father being terribly concerned about nests when he was mowing,鈥 she says. He would raise the cutter bar over them, and her mother taught her about local birds. 鈥淲hen I was a child they were just everywhere. The killdeer? You would trip over their babies. This program has really allowed us to believe that we can keep this open for grassland birds.
The male bobolink is black and white with a striking yellow nape and a pinballing song. The female is plainer and sparrowlike. Every spring they make a 6,000-mile migration from South America to the northern United States and southern Canada. About 20 percent of the world鈥檚 breeding bobolinks nest in the checkerboard of active and remnant farm fields in the lower Great Lakes/St. Lawrence plains area. Jefferson County is a hotbed for grassland birds, says Marcelo del Puerto, the private lands and habitat unit leader for the DEC鈥檚 Division of Fish, Wildlife, and Marine Resources. Miller鈥檚 fields constitute five percent of the acreage that the DEC and 爆料公社 are helping owners in her region manage for grassland species, says del Puerto. Statewide, 26 landowners, with parcels totaling more than 2,600 acres, have been enrolled since the program began in 2005.
Mike Burger, 爆料公社 New York鈥檚 conservation and science director, believes these fields are already contributing to bobolink viability. 鈥淲e determined that their breeding density was at least five times greater on our project sites than it was on randomly selected grasslands,鈥 he says.
As Miller surveys her land, she stops to look through a pair of vintage Nikon binoculars she keeps in the Jeep. The mottled hard-shell glasses belonged to her mother. Watching a northern harrier rise and dodge on a pushy wind, Miller says, 鈥淭hey鈥檙e elegant to watch. They just are.鈥 Over swaying timothy, milkweed, and goldenrod, the hawk flaps, brakes, and drops feet first into the grass.
鈥淲hen we save those birds,鈥 she says, 鈥渢hey belong to the world. They don鈥檛 just belong to me as a landowner.鈥
This story originally ran in the May-June issue as, 鈥淢aking Hay.鈥
Bobolink (Dolichonyx oryzivorus)
Range and habitat: Breeds in meadows, prairies, and hayfields of the northern U.S. and southern Canada, mostly east of the Rockies. A long-distance migrant, it winters on grasslands in southern South America.
Status: Surveys suggest that the overall population has been declining at about 2 percent per year for more than four decades.
Outlook: With natural habitats becoming scarcer, management of hayfield nesting sites will be critical to the bobolink鈥檚 future.鈥擪enn Kaufman