Kevin Railsback
August 1st, 2017, 09:33 AM
UWOL43-Wild Prairie-Kevin J Railsback on Vimeo
The tallgrass prairie has been a passion of mine for several years now. It's probably the most misunderstood and understudied ecosystems in the world.
At one time it was one of the largest ecosystems in the world, more diverse than the Florida Everglades and maybe even the Amazon rainforest.
Here in Iowa only 1/10th of one percent of the native tallgrass prairie still exits. I've visted Hayden Prairie which is the second largest piece of native tallgrass prairie in Iowa and it is only 242 acres in size.
The last few years I've really had a strong desire to see what Iowa might have looked like before John Deere's steel plow turned over the first piece of tallgrass prairie to make way for modern day crops.
There were a couple choices. Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve in Kansas and Tallgrass Prairie Preserve in Oklahoma. I ended up choosing the prairie in Oklahoma because there were no restrictions on flying my drone since it was privately owned by the Nature Conservancy. 39,000 acres of native tallgrass prairie. The first time I could ever stand in a spot and see nothing but prairie as far as the horizon. To most people it probably looked like nothing but endless weeds, to me however, it took my breath away.
I was down there only a week and only had a small window at first light and last light to film since the light was so harsh the rest of the time.
A herd of bison are free to roam 29,000 acres of the 39,000 acre preserve. It was amazing seeing these majestic creatures push through the prairie following trails that were laid down by bison generations ago.
Filming at night bison would slip past me silently, only their silhouettes standing against the faint light on the horizon marking their passage past me.
Yet even 29,000 acres of native prairie isn't enough for these amazing creatures. Bulls are shipped to slaughterhouses when they reach the age of four or five. Cows get a little longer reprieve, they are slaughtered around the age of ten or twelve.
For me, the wild tallgrass prairie no longer exists unless I choose to redefine my definition of wild. Nature still exits and finds ways to survive but for me, even 39,000 acres of native prairie is just a model of what the wild used to be.
I went back and forth on the story I wanted to tell. In the end, I decided to let the prairie and its inhabitants speak for themselves. I reverted to my original UWOL days of just setting imagery to music and letting you decide the story that unfolds in front of you.
In many ways, I feel that I've failed the tallgrass and the creatures that call it home. Do you look at the film differently if you know that the bull bison surrounded by his family will be slaughtered this fall and end up in someone's crockpot?
On the other hand, I feel so unqualified to tell the prairies story and do it any kind of justice. In the end I hope that you think of the prairie as a beautiful place until I figure how the story I want to tell and how to tell it.
The tallgrass prairie has been a passion of mine for several years now. It's probably the most misunderstood and understudied ecosystems in the world.
At one time it was one of the largest ecosystems in the world, more diverse than the Florida Everglades and maybe even the Amazon rainforest.
Here in Iowa only 1/10th of one percent of the native tallgrass prairie still exits. I've visted Hayden Prairie which is the second largest piece of native tallgrass prairie in Iowa and it is only 242 acres in size.
The last few years I've really had a strong desire to see what Iowa might have looked like before John Deere's steel plow turned over the first piece of tallgrass prairie to make way for modern day crops.
There were a couple choices. Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve in Kansas and Tallgrass Prairie Preserve in Oklahoma. I ended up choosing the prairie in Oklahoma because there were no restrictions on flying my drone since it was privately owned by the Nature Conservancy. 39,000 acres of native tallgrass prairie. The first time I could ever stand in a spot and see nothing but prairie as far as the horizon. To most people it probably looked like nothing but endless weeds, to me however, it took my breath away.
I was down there only a week and only had a small window at first light and last light to film since the light was so harsh the rest of the time.
A herd of bison are free to roam 29,000 acres of the 39,000 acre preserve. It was amazing seeing these majestic creatures push through the prairie following trails that were laid down by bison generations ago.
Filming at night bison would slip past me silently, only their silhouettes standing against the faint light on the horizon marking their passage past me.
Yet even 29,000 acres of native prairie isn't enough for these amazing creatures. Bulls are shipped to slaughterhouses when they reach the age of four or five. Cows get a little longer reprieve, they are slaughtered around the age of ten or twelve.
For me, the wild tallgrass prairie no longer exists unless I choose to redefine my definition of wild. Nature still exits and finds ways to survive but for me, even 39,000 acres of native prairie is just a model of what the wild used to be.
I went back and forth on the story I wanted to tell. In the end, I decided to let the prairie and its inhabitants speak for themselves. I reverted to my original UWOL days of just setting imagery to music and letting you decide the story that unfolds in front of you.
In many ways, I feel that I've failed the tallgrass and the creatures that call it home. Do you look at the film differently if you know that the bull bison surrounded by his family will be slaughtered this fall and end up in someone's crockpot?
On the other hand, I feel so unqualified to tell the prairies story and do it any kind of justice. In the end I hope that you think of the prairie as a beautiful place until I figure how the story I want to tell and how to tell it.