HELM Visit to NAS — Beautiful Hays County

“In the shadows against the cliff the river was deep and engaged in profundities, circling back on itself now and then to say things over to be sure it had understood itself. But the river ahead came out into the sunny world like a chatterbox, doing its best to be friendly. It bowed to one shore and then to the other so nothing would feel neglected.”—Norman Maclean

Kiran Topiwala

This passage by Norman Maclean reflects both kinds of light that shine on the work of Native American Seed. Year after year, the folks at Native American Seed ensure that the unseen, solitary, and contemplative work with the land and rhythms of nature becomes the bright work of sharing the seed harvest with the world, bowing to the interconnectedness of all living things.

As the waters of the Llano River continue to carve deep into the soils of Central Texas, Native American Seed operates nothing short of a miracle. Here, on a parcel of land beneath an undivided sky just outside of Junction, Texas, the Habitat Enhancing Land Management (HELM) Team mustered together in the dusty parking lot. We were greeted by Bill Neiman, the founder of Native American Seed, accompanied by his daughter, Emily, and her husband, George. Bill began to tell the story of how the seed farm came to be, and it sounded to me as if Bill were simply floating Maclean’s river, allowing life to unfold before him. As the bends in the river appear and the current carries him forward, Bill observes patiently, checking his understanding against what the land is telling him. And so it must be when it comes to seeds. They emerge on their own time, and there is no telling what will come around the next bend for Native American Seed.

Our visit, in deep time and in the history of Native American Seed, coincided with what feels like a transition. Ecologically speaking, this transition is more of a succession. As the intertwined crises of our times continue to flood our metaphorical river with debris, there is something else there, too. It can only be described as a confluence of other currents, rising and making themselves seen.

It’s the people like us who care to notice the patterns of nature. It’s the folks who, in their own way, are opening their ears to what nature is whispering—and only then are they responding. It’s the very fact that a team like HELM even exists. It’s the people who continue to order seeds from Native American Seed. It’s the young people who will carry this work forward for the next 50 years. We’re cleaning the river of debris, but there’s another reality approaching—we’re running short on hands, and “the supply is no longer meeting the demand.”

While we all could have stood there listening to Bill for hours, he had to leave us to attend to his busy schedule. He left us in the care of Emily and George, so we could tour the seed farm.

George began by taking us to the old, many-times-modified barn where the seed harvests are separated, cleaned, and stored. The first piece of equipment we came upon was the fanning mill.

This mammoth-sized piece of equipment is just one of many specialized instruments Native American Seed has adapted to fit its seed processing needs. Each plant species produces a seed that is unique in its size and mobility. Some are so light and feathery they can be carried by the wind, while others are sharper, housed in a large envelope that can cling and spread by passersby. Thus, when it comes to separating seeds from plant matter—and even one type of seed from another—various methods and screens are used.

George even mentioned that from year to year, a screen used for a particular seed one season may no longer work the next. Once again, the HELM team could see how this work is an eternal dance with the patterns of nature—the seeds are leading the way at each step, and it is Native American Seed’s job to notice, follow, and adapt.

Next, George led us out to the fields. First, we came upon a nursery area where Native American Seed had prepared a variety of riparian-friendly species in pots, ready to be sold and distributed to organizations and individuals supporting the Kerr County Flood Relief effort. You might’ve seen Christine Middleton’s article in last month’s Hays Humm about land management for mitigating flood impacts—well, revegetating riparian areas is crucial for slowing down water during future floods. Living roots in the soil, rather than promoting runoff, enable water to sink into the ground.

This just goes to show, again, how important the work of Native American Seed is. While this particular revegetation effort is in response to a shock, the day-to-day, year-to-year operations of Native American Seed focus on keeping tabs on environmental stressors and building pathways for people to engage in long-term efforts to create resilient ecosystems.

The first field of color we came upon was that of the Engelmann/Cutleaf Daisy. George explained that this entire field was planted once, and now volunteers assist in its upkeep. He also noted that he can harvest seed from this field multiple times a year. Other bursts of color included blooms of Gayfeather, Goldenrod, Mealy Blue Sage, and Pitcher Sage. The number of pollinators in these fields was incredible to see. Just imagine what a few handfuls of these seeds could do for your backyard!

**A field of one of my favorite grasses—Indiangrass.** We were able to catch it just as the seed heads were nearing maturity. Timing the harvest is another delicate dance—too early and the seeds won’t be viable; too late and they’ll scatter to the wind before they can be gathered.

As we made our way back to the parking lot, we were blessed with a good ole farmer’s rain, and I found myself again thinking of Maclean’s river. Native American Seed has spent decades in the shadowy waters, learning the language of seeds and seasons, understanding the rhythms of the land. Now, as they continue to share their harvest and their knowledge, they invite us to join in the work of healing the land—one seed at a time.

The river keeps flowing, and the next bend remains unseen. But if the growing chorus of people listening to nature’s whispers is any indication, Native American Seed won’t be navigating these waters alone. The current is gathering strength, carrying more of us forward together. The work of HELM and Native American Seed goes hand in hand, and the seeds we plant together today will determine what blooms for us around that next bend. As Bill might say, the seeds know what to do. Our job is simply to dance the dance, pay attention, and keep showing up—season after season, seed by seed.