Switchgrass and foxtail provided the perfect camouflage for a heron slowly wading through a prairie pond. Only the squawking of a Canada goose mother scolding her offspring shattered the bucolic stillness of the wetland. It was the summer of 2023, and throughout large areas of the Canadian prairie provinces and the Great Plains of the United States, increasingly dry conditions had made water a precious resource. But not here. The 260-acre Hannotte wetland in east-central Saskatchewan was an oasis in an otherwise arid desert of wheat fields. 

It hadn’t always been this way. The land had been drained for agriculture over a century earlier, and it took 20 years of door-knocking for Kevin Rozdeba to convince farmers in the Yorkton region of Saskatchewan that removing land from crop production and turning it back into a wetland was in their best interests. As a program specialist for Ducks Unlimited Canada (DUCS), a nonprofit organization whose mission is to conserve and manage wetlands, Rozdeba knew a wetland’s unique hydrology could contribute to water availability essential for crop production in times of drought. Getting farmers on board, though, was a tall order.

“Some landowners were an easy sell,” he says. “Others were more skeptical and took the most amount of visits. I’d go back every couple of years and try to build a case.”

It’s a story repeated across 770,000 square kilometers stretching across South and North Dakota, Minnesota, Iowa, Nebraska, Montana and into the Canadian provinces of Alberta, Saskatchewan and Manitoba. This area, known as the Prairie Pothole Region (PPR), was formed during the last ice age. As the glaciers started to melt, heavy chunks of ice calved off and became buried in prairie soil. Their enormous weight created permanent depressions in the landscape.

“These basins are like saucers able to hold excess water,” says Suzanne Joyce, a communications specialist with Ducks Unlimited. Serving as natural sponges, they not only hold in water from snowmelt and rain events but have incredible flood storage capacity, which helps keep water from running off the land. Instead, it seeps through the layers of silt and sediment lining the basin, recharging the underground wells and aquifers many prairie farmers rely on. 

Farmers used to work around the potholes, but over time, a drive for greater agricultural productivity has caused almost half of the wetlands throughout the PPR to be drained.

“The ironic reality of the Prairie Pothole Region,” says Joyce “is that these incredibly productive wetlands, which are so amazing for wildlife because of their rich soils and mineral deposits, are also the most productive for agriculture on the continent.”

Protecting these unique environments and their value to the farming ecosystem is something the Canadian government has also invested in. In July 2021, the Minister of Agriculture and Agri-Food announced $25 million (Canadian) to restore, conserve and enhance critical wetlands and grassland in the Prairie provinces. 

But it’s not just in Canada that these unique ecosystems are being protected and restored. In the northeastern corner of Montana, the 1,130-acre Comertown Prairie Pothole Reserve  represents the largest unplowed stretch of pothole ecosystem in the state. The preserve is owned by The Nature Conservancy, whose mission is to conserve the lands and water on which all life depends. The mosaic of lakes and ponds in the preserve create oases for migrating shorebirds such as the whooping crane. Through collaborations with US Fish and Wildlife, state agencies and conservation groups, the Prairie Pothole Joint Venture (PPJV) has also been able to spearhead pothole conservation in Montana, North and South Dakota, Minnesota and Iowa.

“We are able to bring together diverse partners to provide a platform of shared interests and goals that break down limitations and find solutions,” says Lauri Hanauska-Brown, coordinator of the PPJV.

In 2023, for example, through partnerships supported by the PPJV that included the Morris and Fergus Falls Wetland Management Districts in Minnesota, more than 5,200 acres of wetland and grassland were protected and restored. 

Dennis Norosky, an organic farmer and owner of We Can Farm in Manitoba, has also gone against the trend, and instead of draining the potholes on his land, he has recognized their unique service to his property. Working with the Alternative Land Use Services Program (ALUS), a nonprofit organization helping producers in six Canadian provinces and Iowa to create nature-based solutions, Norosky has planted perennial grasses between his working fields and the potholes on his property.   

“It was easier not to touch these small plots; they look more like thick grass and water runs more naturally,” he says.    

During periods of drought and heat, soil can become eroded, unable to hold moisture. Like other prairie wetlands, the potholes on We Can Farm are able to retain moisture through dry spells. The extensive root systems of the grasses Norosky planted around the potholes can also absorb moisture during wet periods and over time slowly release it back onto the nearby landscape. 

But that’s not all. Norosky has also taken crops out of production to make room for wildlife.  

“I have enhanced some areas, taking some out of grain production by sowing those small fields with alfalfa, grass — cover crops for wildlife forage and bird nesting,” he explains.

Around 225 different species of migratory birds rely on prairie wetlands for breeding and seasonal inhabitancy. The PPR is often referred to as the “duck factory” of North America, but because so many PPR wetlands have been drained, many birds have seen their habitats put at risk. The piping plover, for example, is a shorebird that breeds in the PPR regions of North Dakota, South Dakota and Canada. Loss of habitat has meant that since 1985, it has been listed as a threatened species under the US Endangered Species Act.

With these losses, many of the benefits the birds are able to offer to producers are also gone. By feasting on bugs and insects that are harmful to crops, they reduce a producer’s need for pesticides. The organic material they deposit, not just on the wetland but the surrounding cropland, plays a vital role in enriching the nutrient vibrancy of the soil.

These were the arguments Rozdeba used for two decades as he gradually convinced landowners to turn their backyards into wetlands. When the Hannotte family decided it was time to sell their farm, including 73 hectares of drained wetland, Rozdeba knew this was the opportunity DUCS had been hoping for. Using his powers of persuasion one more time, Rozdeba pitched the purchase of the land to DUCS, and in 2021, the sale was finalized. Subsequently, the land was resold to a local conservationist, who agreed to conserve approximately 320 acres and crop the remaining 165 acres. To Rozdeba, this struck the perfect balance he always knew could exist between agriculture and conservation. It was now time to reawaken the wetland from its century-long nap.

“It was as easy as damming the one existing drainage ditch and allowing the water to flow naturally back onto the landscape,” Rozdeba says. 

Once the water was there, it didn’t take long for the land to remember its past.

“I found it so striking to see,” Joyce of DUCS says. “As of spring 2023 the water was there, but a lot of areas were still brown. Just three weeks later, there was green grass and geese and goslings foraging. It was such an incredible turnaround to see how quickly the ecosystem came back.”

How do the farmers, who became part of the wetland restoration, feel? “Living in a small community, we bump into each other around town. They always want to stop and visit.” Rozdeba says with a chuckle. “And I guess no news is good news.”