SGIchampions

How a blackberry bush in Tennessee led me to burn my pines in Alabama

Jessica with Laura, SGI Volunteer Coordinator, at the APSU native plant garden.

Read SGI volunteer Jessica Bulling’s story of how she fell in love with plants and became passionate about restoring ecosystems.

We had just bought our first home and I had no idea what kind of trees and plants were in the yard. We had moved there the summer of 2020 and by 2021 my curiosity was building momentum. One morning it finally reached full intensity when I decided to clear some thorny brush. But what was it? Should I remove it? How much should I remove? Was it harmful or beneficial?

I posted the question in a Facebook group. The majority of the answers responded with Devil’s Walking Stick, but it did not seem right to me. I began searching for information about plants. Some of these videos were about grasslands, but who cares about grass? After a while the enthusiasm of these grassland videos began to capture my interest. Maybe I should listen to what this person, Dwayne Estes, had to say. After checking out the Southeastern Grasslands Institute website, everything they stood for made complete sense to me. In a summary, the naturally occurring biodiverse prairies of the Southeast had been lost due to several factors including farming, industrialism and urban development. How can we help? One avenue of support included searching for prairie remnants. I wanted to help find them! I promptly downloaded iNaturalist and began making observations.

It turns out that their headquarters in Clarksville was only 20 minutes away, and they needed volunteers. We were still in the middle of Covid, and I needed to get outside. I will always remember that first day I met the Volunteer Coordinator, Laura, and her friend and neighbor Sue. They were painting quadrant numbers around the Austin Peay State University Native Plant Teaching and Research garden so they could keep better track of the various types of plants. They turned out to become two of the most significant people in my life. That day was my introduction to the underappreciated, rich biodiversity of the Southeastern region. 


My service with SGI included invasive plant removal at Dunbar Cave State Park as well as several visits supporting the new “Google Prairie” project and almost as importantly, maintaining and enriching the habitat in my own backyard. First I went after the invasive honeysuckle and planted a native coral honeysuckle. Then I went after the microstegium. Unfortunately these exotic species suppress local biodiversity. The best reward for the hard work of manually removing it at the end of a hot summer was enjoying a refreshed, biodiverse landscape the following spring. It is amazing to see what plants pop up once you remove the smothering monoculture of a plant that hasn’t evolved with the regional ecosystem over thousands of years.

Another rewarding venture was protecting a unique and endangered plant at Dunbar State Park known as Nabalus barbatus (Barbed Rattlesnake Root). In some miraculous way, because of that project, I was able to recognize the same plant growing in my own backyard. I placed cages to protect it from the deer and collect seedlings that same fall before moving away to Alabama.

Barbed Rattlesnake Root (Nabalus barbatus) flowers through a wire fence at Dunbar Cave State Park.

Barbed Rattlesnake Root (Nabalus barbatus) flowers and stem in Woodlawn, TN.

Another one of my rewarding accomplishments during my time in Tennessee was to become one of the initial members of Clarksville’s Healthy Yards Program. A city initiative to promote the use of native plants and the avoidance of pesticides. 

Jessica in April 2023 holding a Clarksville Healthy Yards program yard sign.

Clarksville Healthy Yards booth display.


Up-close photo of the flowers of Price’s Potato Bean, Apios americana. Photo by Jessica Bulling.

I can’t leave the Tennessee era of my botanical adventures without mentioning the endangered Apios americana, Price’s Potato Bean. A stunning legume that requires a specific habitat. Apparently it only thrives on certain slopes of Land Between the Lakes National Recreation Area. I had the pleasure of donning a hard hat and zigzagging up these steep slopes in the middle of the southern heat to help count and document all the flowers we could find. 

These are only a few of the rewarding experiences I had in support of the plant and community life in Tennessee. After three years in Clarksville, it was time to move to rural Russell County Alabama.

Image of the Tiny Bluet, Houstonia pusilla. Photo by Jessica Bulling.

Yes, we had found a nice plot thirty minutes southwest of Columbus, Georgia. Town consisted of two dollar stores and a drive thru folk art museum. What the heck was I going to do here? As we surveyed the property I looked into the forest. I would be ok in the forest. I checked the yard. One of the smallest spring ephemerals, a tiny bluet, looked at me. It was going to be ok, because they did not use pesticides in this yard :)


Back to the question of what was I going to do in rural Alabama? Somehow I came across an ad for Alabama’s Master Naturalist Program. After hearing so much about the wonderful Naturalist program from Laura’s friend Sue, in Tennessee, I immediately decided to register for the Alabama course. It  was mostly online and I only needed to attend two Field Days in addition to 30 volunteer hours. 


As I began studying the Naturalist modules, I noticed something amazing that spring. A giant pine cone. In our same neighborhood we had also spotted a gopher tortoise! We still had Longleaf Pines in our area and on the property. I immediately embraced the mission of doing my best to take care of these trees and their ecosystems that had dominated the South for thousands of years.


Pine trees can be very tricky to identify, even after staring at them every day and looking up diagrams and explanations, but gradually I became better at recognizing how beautiful they were. Of course they have very long needles, and the sound they make in the wind is loud enough to be reminiscent of ocean waves. 

I love one of Janisse Ray's descriptions from Ecology of a Cracker Childhood: “The limbs of longleaf pine are gray and scaly and drape as the tree matures, and its needles are very long, up to seventeen inches, like a piano player’s fingers, and held upright at the ends of the limbs, like a bride holds her bouquet.”

As beautiful as these trees are, they are what you might say high maintenance and require patience. They have evolved to burn. Anyone who has Longleaf Pines might notice how particularly flammable the needles are. Another name for these pines is heart pine, because the heart is rich with resin and can be used to maintain a good bonfire.

So it was apparent that these pines were overdue for a prescribed burn. The fast growing loblollies and sweetgums were moving in, there were fallen logs everywhere and the forest was thick with muscadine vines. Needless to say, we had a lot of work ahead of us. Over the course two years we did two prescribed burns (during the season it is permitted), something I had experience assisting with at the Google prairie in Tennessee with SGI. I tackled the muscadines and applied targeted herbicide on some sweetgums in the fall, the time of year this method is most efficient.

Bombus fraturnus (Southern Plains Bumblebee)


One of the special finds on this property was the endangered Bombus fraternus or Southern Plains Bumble bee. Thanks to iNaturalist, I realized that I had documented this bee when I first moved to the area, at the Columbus Botanical Garden.


This spring it was the carpenter bee that had caught my attention. I had finally decided to paint my garden hose stand and I noticed the perfectly round hole. Luckily it seemed ok and I’m looking forward to see its offspring emerge later this summer in search of the passionflower it is specialized for. 

Carpenter Bee (genus Xylocopa sp.) looking out from his home in wood.


His home was right underneath the Coral Honeysuckle I had planted when I first moved here. 


Thinking back to that first moment I wondered what all those trees in Tennessee were, and what the heck was that thorny bush in my yard, and should I remove it? I have come a long way. I have learned to enjoy the beauty that emerges from our protected habitats and the dance of relationships between animals and plants. I hope to continue to make connections with people who wish to do the same.

I finally did discover that the thorny bush was wild blackberry, which I mostly left for the birds and myself to enjoy.

Blog written by Jessica Bulling, SGI Volunteer. Blog prepared by Laura Hunt, SGI Volunteer Coordinator, and Ellie Lopez, SGI Communications Specialist.

Partner Spotlight: Roundstone Native Seed – Growing a Legacy of Native Grasslands

Roundstone Seed, LLC’s President, John Seymour, in a field of wildflowers.

When you walk the fields at Roundstone Native Seed in Kentucky, you’re stepping into more than just rows of carefully cultivated native plants. You’re stepping into a story of persistence, faith, and passion for restoring America’s biodiversity—a story that began with five-gallon buckets in Mammoth Cave National Park.


A Family Rooted in Native Plants

Image of Roundstone Native Seed, LLC’s logo made entirely from plant and seed material.

Roundstone’s president, John Seymour, grew up in the footsteps of his father, Randy, who literally wrote the book on Wildflowers of Mammoth Cave National Park. The Seymours’ early efforts in the 1990s involved hand-collecting seeds, bucket by bucket, before launching what would eventually become Roundstone Native Seed, LLC in 1994.

For John, the seed business has always been about more than just plants—it’s about ecotypes, adaptation, and resilience. “The same species can exist from the Midwest to the Southeast, but how it grows depends on rainfall, frost dates, soils, and insects,” John explains. “Genetics matter. Ecotype matters.” That philosophy has guided Roundstone’s growth from a small family venture into one of the most influential voices in the national native seed movement.


Weathering the Storms of Business

Like grasslands themselves, Roundstone has endured seasons of boom and bust. In the early years of the Conservation Reserve Program (CRP), the company grew rapidly—at one point expanding eightfold. But in 2009, orders collapsed. John recalls walking the fields carrying the weight of debt and doubt, but also learning invaluable lessons about resilience. “You have to be self-motivated,” he says. “Have faith, keep going, and know that what you’re doing makes a difference.”


A Partnership of Shared Vision

A field of Monarda citriodora (common name Lemon Beebalm).

Roundstone’s path crossed with SGI co-founder Dr. Dwayne Estes through mutual friends in the botanical world. The connection sparked quickly, fueled by a shared passion for plants and restoration. In 2016, the partnership became tangible at Dunbar Cave State Park, where the Seymours helped Dwayne and a burgeoning SGI to prepare the land and supply seed—at no cost. “Let’s help him for free,” Randy told John. That generosity helped catalyze a restoration project that continues to inspire today.

“Roundstone didn’t just pitch in a little, they gave a gift of seed and labor valued at $35,000,” says Dwayne. “That gift gave us our first pilot project and helped us build credibility. The value of Roundstone’s gift goes way beyond $35,000, it was truly a gift of love and friendship that is invaluable to SGI’s origin story.” 

Since then, Roundstone and SGI have partnered on projects large and small, from the 100-acre Google-funded restoration to training programs for foresters, land managers, and park staff. The collaboration has also extended to advocacy, with John and Dwayne traveling to Washington, D.C. to educate policymakers on why regionally adapted native seed resources matter.


Complementing, Not Competing

Image outside of Roundstone Native Seed LLC’s seed cleaning and storage facilities.

The native seed world is a small one, and Roundstone, like SGI, has always chosen collaboration over competition. “At least three businesses may be bidding on the same project,” John notes, “but my door has always been open. Helping others has never hurt us—it’s only made the whole movement stronger.”

This spirit of collaboration is evident in projects like SGI’s Barnett’s Woods & Prairie State Natural Area initiative, where Roundstone has provided guidance and support for producing foundation seed that will cut the costs of wild collection while ensuring the highest-quality ecotypes. The natural area, located just 15 minutes west of Austin Peay State University’s campus, will become a real showpiece for grassland restoration and research.


Lessons From the Land

Producing native seed is anything but easy. Some species only yield viable crops every three years. Others, like milkweed, resist being farmed and prefer to grow in clumps. Even perennial species may fail to set seed some years. “You never know which season will give you a harvest,” John explains. “That’s why research, collaboration, and education with partners like SGI are so important.”

For Roundstone, educating consumers is as important as producing seed. John prefers honesty—even if it frustrates a customer in the short term. “I’d rather you be mad at me now than mad at me later,” he says. “Restoration takes time, patience, and the right seed.”


Recognized Leadership

In 2025, John & Randy Seymour and Roundstone Native Seed were honored with the Aldo Leopold Award, recognizing their decades of leadership in native seed production, conservation, and partnership. It’s a fitting milestone for a family business that started with buckets of wildflowers and has become a national leader.


Looking Forward

Roundstone’s story is one of grit, generosity, and vision. As John reflects on advice he would give to the next generation of farmers interested in native seed production, “I never thought it would be a gold mine. I never knew it would be so arduous. But when people told me I couldn’t do something, that just drove me harder. Don’t let anyone tell you it can’t be done.”

At SGI, we’re proud to call Roundstone Native Seed not only a partner but a friend and our first donor. They believed in us even before there was an SGI. Together, we are building a future where grasslands thrive, biodiversity flourishes, and restoration efforts have the best chance to succeed—one seed at a time.


Blog by Eleanor Lopez, SGI Communications Specialist.