While stigma, fear and frustration have dogged some of society’s “less cuddly” creatures, three PFI members share why they’re welcoming these unsung species on their farms.
Across Iowa farms, a quiet and unseen workforce is on the job. Snakes glide through grass field edges, eating rodents before they can reach the grain bin. Owls and hawks patrol fence lines and buffers doing the same thing, no traps needed. As night falls, bats take flight, consuming up to 1,000 insects per hour – including many that could find their way to crops, such as cucumber beetles and corn rootworms.
These animals require no purchased food or fence. They go mostly unnoticed. Yet their contributions are felt across the farm. While these species – and others, like spiders, coyotes, foxes, wasps and other sometimes contested critters – are sometimes viewed as pests, nuisances or worse, they provide invaluable services to row crop and horticultural farmers alike.
As the following stories from PFI members show, leaving these wild neighbors a little space to live on the farm can benefit both people and the environment.
Vultures
Turkey vultures are a common sight at Gibralter Farm, a multigenerational, diversified crop and livestock operation near Iowa Falls, Iowa. John Gilbert, who farms there with his family, expresses awe as he describes the birds. “The vultures love our valley,” he says. “They can soar round and round on the thermals above our farm for hours without beating their wings at all.”
John’s admiration contrasts with more widespread social attitudes. These oft-maligned birds, and their vulture cousins across the globe, have been the subjects of harmful myths for centuries.
Contrary to popular depictions, turkey vultures don’t attack live animals or spread disease. In fact, they survive almost entirely on carrion (though they do occasionally eat insects and decaying vegetables, according to the Audubon Society).
Turkey vultures play a vital ecological role by acting as nature’s cleaning crew, rapidly consuming dead animals before disease can spread. By removing the carcasses, vultures help limit the growth of harmful bacteria and pathogens that could affect people, pets and livestock.
How do they avoid getting sick themselves? The Cornell Lab of Ornithology notes that vultures have several unique adaptations – including extremely acidic digestive systems that can neutralize dangerous microbes, like the bacteria that cause anthrax, rabies, botulism and other dangerous infections.
By quickly eating dead animals, vultures help reduce the risk of disease outbreaks. Their featherless heads help keep them clean when eating. And turkey vulture poop has unique sanitizing properties too – it actually kills pathogens.
The vultures who live near John’s farm have plenty to sustain them, thanks to suitable roosting habitat on his land. He welcomes these misunderstood neighbors and the service they provide. He says they often take up residence in his bur oak trees and clean up squirrel and rabbit bits left by hawks. John has even noticed a “time-share” on his land: When the vultures vacate, bald eagles move in to take their place.
John’s live-and-let-live philosophy extends to other species too – like the badgers that dig holes in the farm’s terraces. Instead of reaching for traps, John accepts digging as their nature and simply fills the holes back in whenever he can. He also plants legumes and clover as cover crops, indirectly providing additional habitat. This approach helps the farm be profitable while fostering a functional ecosystem.
“We don’t feel we have a big right to say who our neighbors are on this farm,” John says. “We are caretakers and coinhabitants of the land, and the wildlife that lives on it.”
Snakes, Vultures and More
Dennis McLaughlin holds a similar view. His 320-acre diversified crop and livestock farm in Warren County, Iowa, which has been in his family since 1854, is more than just a piece of land. It’s a place where farming and wildlife coexist alongside Dennis and his family. For him, making space for wildlife brings joy, while letting his farm work with, rather than against, nature.
While Dennis always cared about conservation, he used to fear snakes and didn’t like having them on his farm. That changed years ago, he says, at a conservation center.
Dennis recalls a conservation officer putting a bull snake in his hands and assuring him the snake wouldn’t bite. “That tactile connection, feeling the weight and movement of the snake, was a defining moment,” he says. He didn’t just stop fearing snakes, he started actively leaving space for them. “We tend to leave our brush piles be,” Dennis says, “and they become home for all kinds of critters.”
Dennis also left a 170-year-old barn in place for vultures, as a nursery. He’s watched them grow from “ugly little chicklings” bouncing around the barn floor to fledglings testing their wings on its roof. While he once worried the big birds might further damage the structure, he found they coexist just fine (it turns out turkey vultures are actually quite light for their size).
Other kinds of habitat on the farm – Dennis has about 25 acres of timber, as well as land in the federal Conservation Reserve Program – offer shelter and food for foxes, coyotes, bobcats, badgers and groundhogs. Dennis says that seeing these animals on the farm is a source of shared joy for him and his daughter.
After his mom died, Dennis found another, more poignant connection. Before her funeral, he says he found himself walking the farm remembering a conversation they once had. “I had told her that if there was a way for her to send a postcard after she was gone, I would be glad of the reassurance, and she had promised she would.”
Later, he was out walking the fence line when he noticed a white bird gliding towards him. The image stopped him.
“An all-white bird is not a common sight,” he says. He recalls how the bird didn’t swoop at him. Instead, it flew past him multiple times in a graceful arc. He remembered what his mom used to say – that strange things don’t happen when you’re looking for them, but when they do happen, they might mean something.
In that moment, Dennis couldn’t help wondering if that graceful vision was his mother’s postcard, delivered on bird wings.
Bats
At Scattergood Friends School and Farm in West Branch, Iowa, biology teacher Ben Heller has been enlisting the help of some wild residents to teach students about nutrient management and how it connects to farming.
The private Quaker boarding school has several older barns on its campus that have long been a roosting haven for bats. After considering the best course of action, teachers decided the bats – and specifically, their guano – could be used as part of the curriculum itself.
“Our goal [at Scattergood] is to provide an outdoor learning lab for kids,” Ben says.
“Whenever we can find a way to work in harmony with nature, as opposed to it, that’s what we are going to do.”
Plus, he adds, “it’s always fun when you get to talk about poop as a professional.”
It was while teaching a class in nutrient management that Ben came up with a novel idea. For one of their final school projects, he assigned a group of students to build guano collection trays.
Bat guano is a powerful organic fertilizer, rich in nitrogen, phosphorous and potassium. All are key nutrients that improve soil structure, boost plant growth and can enhance crop yields. The guano provides a sustainable and inexpensive way to support environmentally friendly agriculture. The idea behind the project was to make it possible for faculty to use the guano later on the school’s organic farm.
The students set to work creating a wooden frame and tray system to place under the barn rafters. Big brown and little brown bats – the two most common bat species in Iowa, and the most likely to roost in old barns – are most active between April and October. During this time, bat guano started collecting in the new tray system.
Part 2 of the project came in winter. Teachers, with students watching, spread the guano over the school’s farm fields (which were bare) to help boost soil health – while showing students the process of preparing fallow fields before crops.
While there didn’t end up being much guano, Ben says the hands-on project was still valuable. “It gave the kids a good understanding of the varying sources of nutrient input that can be used around the world.”
