Old fields pulse with activity. Butterflies flutter, crickets call, meadow voles scurry, and black-and-yellow garden spiders ambush from dew-spangled webs. Early June footsteps release the floral sweetness of wild strawberries.
Fields that are no longer being hayed or pastured regularly become populated with a tangle of plants and, eventually, the beginnings of a forest. Because they are such changeable environments, these old fields disappear if not maintained and are one of least-common habitats in New Hampshire and Vermont. In the mid-1800s, when farming in northern New England was at its peak, nearly four out of every five acres of land had been cleared. Over time, as agriculture declined, this trend reversed until trees now cover 80 percent of the landscape. In recent decades, old fields have become scarce.
Native and introduced species of plants quickly populate old fields. Timothy, alfalfa, and orchard grass become interspersed with sedges and the wild grasses of foxtail, little bluestem, and reed canary. Seeds arrive via parasols, burrs, springs, catapults, and glider-like wings. Apple trees and other fruit-bearers wrap seeds inside tasty flesh that is deposited wherever birds, deer, and other fruitarians leave droppings.
Ox-eye daisy and toadflax (butter-and-eggs) are among the early season flowers. Mid-summer blossoms include black-eyed Susan, milkweed, and Queen Anne’s lace. Late summer and early autumn come alive with the rich hues of goldenrods, the bright rays of asters, and the down of thistle seeds, food of the American goldfinch. My favorite is the tiny white flower of old-field balsam, whose autumn scent evokes calico and old lace.
Insects are drawn to these farms gone wild. Grasshoppers and crickets sing from the greenery. Leafhoppers, or “spittle bugs,” exude foamy white shelters. June’s eastern black swallowtails are followed by the monarchs of July that famously lay eggs on milkweed. Flower spiders ambush pollinating insects with a toxic bite. These pale arachnids slowly color-shift to match white or yellow flowers.
About 40 percent of our local wildlife species rely on old-field habitats at some stage of their lives – from red foxes and white-tailed deer to eastern coyotes, woodchucks, and cottontails. Weasels and garter snakes hunt here for the ubiquitous mice and meadow voles.
Ironically, old-field plants create conditions less suitable for their own progeny but beneficial for those species that follow in their wake, by providing deeper shade, taller shrubs, greater soil moisture, moderated temperature swings, and protection from the elements. Annuals and perennials eventually yield to shrubs and trees of a young forest. Raspberries and blackberries appear, along with sumac and sun-loving trees such as aspen, white pine, and black cherry. Wet meadows sport pussy willow, highbush blueberry, alder, and elderberry. Over time, a succession of ecological changes transforms open land into mature forest.
As the plants come and go, so do the animals. When grassland matures into an old field, eastern meadowlarks and bobolinks give way to melodious song sparrows and field sparrows whose voice recalls the quickening beats of a bouncing ping-pong ball. Eastern loggerhead shrikes impale prey on hawthorn spikes. In early springtime, American woodcocks launch aerial displays from hedgerows. Damp, shrub-studded fields attract the vociferous common yellowthroat and the rapidly disappearing golden-winged warbler.
Well-planned and timely cuttings are needed to create or maintain diverse old-field habitats. Years ago, when I was a novice mower, I circled fields and cut in toward the center. But this technique herded everything from crickets to voles into the ever-shrinking, uncut portion until, with the last pass of the singing blades, I became Jack the Reaper. Now I divide fields into sections and mow back and forth along one edge, driving animals to the other sections instead of corralling them in the middle.
I aim to mow each section once every four to five years on a rotating schedule that maintains varied stages of growth. My sections are about a quarter-acre in size, and I mow in late August, when the young of ground nesting birds have fledged. Curves, scallops, and other irregular shapes create longer edges between sections of varying ages, which increases diversity and enhances the field’s value as wildlife habitat. I also maintain a few small islands of shrubs and tall trees where birds of prey, such as red-tailed hawks, can perch, and where kestrels can nest and other animals find shade.
I mow every year in areas wherever invasive species, such as Japanese honeysuckle, common buckthorn and glossy buckthorn, have appeared. These fast-growing species can be eradicated only if the mowing is done regularly.
The effort required to maintain old fields is well rewarded. When wind forms waves of grasses and blossoms, we are as sailors scanning the swells in a sea of flowers. We are Gullivers in this colorful land of Lilliput – witnessing the minute mysteries of a knee-deep ecosystem.