News

In this Student View column, Lily Houston ’28 shares her experience as a St. Olaf College Natural Lands technician, reflecting on the unexpected lessons, memorable encounters, and ongoing work required to keep this beloved campus resource thriving.

---

It’s a beautiful Friday morning at the St. Olaf College prairie restoration. The sun is shining, a cool breeze is blowing, 10 different types of flowers are in bloom — and I am cowering in fear from a very angry tree swallow. 

Part of my job as a St. Olaf Natural Lands summer technician meant checking the 70 bluebird boxes scattered throughout the property — and while I was originally thrilled that I would get to spend every Friday peeping at eggs and baby birds, I had neglected the fact that there is no way to explain to a mother bird that you are here to observe her babies, not to eat them. 

The bluebirds, house wrens and chickadees that make homes in the nest boxes will give you nothing more than an angry chitter, but tree swallows are both highly territorial and maneuverable, and will swoop at you with the aerodynamics of a fighter jet. 

I quickly record the box’s number and its contents (number 16, with grass, feathers, and four wide-eyed balls of gray fluff) and rush back to my ATV to move on to the next box, where hopefully the next mother is away. 

The St. Olaf Natural Lands are beloved by students and community members alike. With 430 acres of big woods forest, prairie, and wetland that circle that bottom of the Hill, it is a perfect place for walkers, runners, cyclists, researchers, and general nature lovers. I have been an avid enjoyer of the Natural Lands since my freshman year, but working as a technician this summer made me appreciate and understand it on a deeper level, and gain valuable knowledge about St. Olaf’s natural history. From a job that I thought would just be about trimming trees and collecting seeds, I’ve learned about Northfield’s ecological systems, land restoration and management practices, and the relationships between people, land, and resources. While the work can be grueling, it’s also been a wonderful opportunity to get to know the human and more-than-human lives and environments that make the Natural Lands so special.

Although several preserved areas are even older than the college itself, the vast majority of the Natural Lands is part of relatively new restoration efforts spanning the past 45 years. 

The first official restoration project in the Natural Lands began when David Wedin ‘81 planted one third of an acre with native saplings and grasses as part of a semester project supervised by Professor Emeritus of Biology Gene Bakko P ‘91 and ‘98. In 1988 Bakko was teaching a class about alternative agriculture, and used the newly enacted Conservation Reserve Program to secure funding for his class to practice prairie planting, and restore three small fields owned by the college. 

“We actually thought that might be the end of it,” says Bakko. “However, we did get permission to apply for more CRP money and planted a couple additional fields, and then started to think in more grandiose terms. That’s when Wedin’s concept of the college as a nature area kicked in.”

In 2001, the college received large donations from 2 alums — Don Nelson ‘50 and Paul Egeland ‘65. This enabled Bakko to become the college’s first Natural Lands Curator in 2002 and spent the next 16 years restoring the college’s farmland to native prairie and forest before retirement. This was accomplished with the help of dozens of students. In addition to CRP money, the campus received additional funding by enrolling 150 acres in U.S. Fish and Wildlife Easements, leading to the creation of Big Pond, the conifer forest, and new prairie restoration areas. 

Most recently, 30 acres of land donated by the nearby Post factory in 2021 expanded the Heath Creek trails. 

Learning about this history gave me a greater appreciation for the work I was doing. The trails, prairies, and woodlands I had enjoyed for years weren’t simply landscapes left to grow on their own. They were the result of decades of international restoration and ongoing care. 

And this summer, I had the opportunity to contribute to that work. 

This summer, the Natural Lands were bustling with change and activity. 

Because the Natural Lands are meant to be accessible and enjoyable for the community, trail maintenance was one of the summer technician’s main responsibilities. We weedwhacked around benches, trimmed low-hanging branches, and widened several paths to accommodate cross-country team practices. 

We also spent time harvesting acorns from oaks throughout the Natural Lands for a new restoration project along Heath Creek. I felt like a squirrel as we picked and raked nuts, dumping them into kiddie pools to store until planting.

Other days, we planted native sedges and forbs around the prairie or scattered seeds in woodland restoration areas. 

Promoting biodiversity was one of our main goals, and we frequently took field trips to the Carleton Arboretum and Northfield farms and parks to collect seeds. These trips introduced me to new people and habitats in Northfield and quickly became one of my favorite parts of the job — except when my boss, Natural Lands Manager Wes Braker ‘18, took us on three-hour bushwhacks through the Cannon River Wilderness Area.

One of the most valuable lessons I learned this summer is that restoring an area is not a one-and-done commitment. 

Humans are a key part of ecosystems, and maintaining healthy, flourishing landscapes requires ongoing care. 

While much of the techs’ jobs involved preparing new restoration areas, we also spent considerable time ensuring that older areas remained well. 

Collecting and planting native species, maintaining trails, and removing invasive species plants are all part of a much larger effort to protect and sustain the Natural Lands for future generations. 

That work also makes the Natural Lands an invaluable resource for learning and research.

St. Olaf students and faculty frequently use the Natural Lands as a research site, particularly through the summer Collaborative Undergraduate Research Institute (CURI) programs. Over the years, researchers have studied everything from tree growth and bird populations to soil health and plant adaptation. 

This summer, Associate Professor of Biology and Education Emily Mohl and Visiting Assistant Professor of Mathematics, Statistics, and Computer Science Martha Zillig conducted projects in the Natural Lands. Mohl and her students hosted a summer camp for middle school students to learn about natural science, while Zillig and her students collected audio recordings to test statistical models that use birdsong to determine local avian populations. 

The Natural Lands are also a favorite destination for eBird and iNaturalist users, making it a hotspot for citizen science data collection. 

For students like me, however, some of the most valuable learning opportunities come from working directly with the land. Currently, 17 student naturalists and technicians work in the Natural Lands, collecting seeds, educating visitors, participating in controlled burns, removing invasive species, and completing countless other tasks that help maintain the landscape. 

Through that work, I’ve come to understand the Natural Lands not simply as a place to enjoy nature, but as a living ecosystem shaped by the relationships between plants, animals, and people. 

And while much of the restoration work at St. Olaf began in the past several decades, the history of this land stretches back much further. 

The land and its original people, the Wahpekute Dakota, have a history that extends back thousands of years before the college’s founding. When I am in the Natural Lands, I try to remember that in addition to being a St. Olaf student, I am also a visitor in this space who should treat the ecosystem I work in with gratitude and respect.

A new season means new projects and challenges for the Natural Lands crew.

Autumn is the season for prescribed burns, so now most of my tasks are to prepare the land for burning. 

At one of my recent shifts, I raked burn breaks — borders of bare earth that keep fire contained to a specific area — for a burn scheduled the next day in the woods by Windmill Trail. 

Golden leaves had replaced blooming flowers, and the morning breeze carried enough chill that I could see my breath. 

Even with the cool temperatures, I was hot and sweaty, and my arms ached from raking. 

Still, I couldn’t think of anything else I’d rather be doing.