The Return of Florida’s Bison

In the summertime, a signature sound echoes across America’s grasslands. It’s like something out of an alien movie—a low, resonating gargle. That’s the call of American bison bulls announcing their presence during breeding season. Hundreds of years ago, the same deep groan rippled across North Florida prairies. Today, save for the sound of cicadas and chirping frogs, the Sunshine State’s grassy expanses sit nearly silent. But don’t be fooled. Bison are back.

Paynes Prairie Preserve State Park in Alachua County is home to a herd of 30 or so female bison who, aside from soft grunts as they graze, don’t engage in the cacophony of the summer breeding season. They don’t have to. Instead, there are plans to replenish their numbers by bringing in bison from ranches across the Southeast—part of a project to return the megafauna to Floridian soil.

Before white men came here, bison occupied all the United States.
-George DeLoach

No one is sure quite how long bison originally lived on the peninsula. They likely came down when the Sunshine State wasn’t quite as hot and humid as it is today, sometime around the last ice age, says George DeLoach, president of Friends of Paynes Prairie. 

“Before white men came here, bison occupied all the United States, from the Appalachian Mountains all the way out to Wyoming,” DeLoach says. “Then, as they came through, they annihilated the bison.” 

Records of early Spanish colonists suggest the bison were still here when they arrived in the mid-millennium, but by the late 1700s, they were driven to local extinction. Then, about 50 years ago, there was a homecoming. A herd of bison from Oklahoma was relocated to the state park, where they learned to once again live in Florida’s climate, and where Florida’s residents learned—and once again failed—to live with them. 

“The neighbors would always call and say, ‘Come get your darn bison out of my backyard,’” DeLoach says. 

After years of debate, the males were removed in 2012, and the prairie (and local homeowners’ associations) quieted down. Now, what’s left is a small herd of bison cows, who, if you’re lucky, can be spotted roaming the grassland. 

It’s a sight most frequently observed from the park’s Bolen Bluff Trail, a 2.6-mile loop that opens up onto sweeping views of the prairie. There, proximity proves the female bison aren’t quite as silent as they seem. “If you get too close to bison, you’re very likely to get hurt,” DeLoach says. “If you’re close enough to hear them grunt, you’re probably too close.” 

---

For more on Sunshine State Species, click here.

---