Poor Man’s Alfalfa: Making the Most of Lespedeza
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Poor Man’s Alfalfa: Making the Most of Lespedeza
Poor Man’s Alfalfa: Making the Most of Lespedeza
Every once in a while, an old farmer will say something that makes you stop and think.
A few years ago, I heard someone refer to lespedeza as “poor man’s alfalfa.”
At the time, I thought it was simply one of those old farming expressions that had been passed down from one generation to another.
But the more I learn about lespedeza, the more I understand what that old farmer was talking about.
And right now, we have a lot of lespedeza growing on the farm—and we are making the most of it.
There is something satisfying about that.
Because farmers have always had to figure out how to make the most of what the land gives them.
Sometimes that means planting something deliberately. Sometimes it means finding value in something that other people overlook. And sometimes it means realizing that the plant growing abundantly in your pasture may actually be doing more for you than you realized.
So, what exactly is lespedeza?
Lespedeza is a warm-season legume. Arkansas has several types, including sericea, Korean and striate lespedeza.
That distinction matters because they aren't all exactly the same.
But generally speaking, lespedezas are well suited to Arkansas conditions. They tolerate heat and drought, can grow on acidic soils and can perform reasonably well where some other legumes struggle.
University of Arkansas Division of Agriculture describes lespedezas as warm-season, drought-tolerant, non-bloating legumes that are particularly useful because they produce much of their growth during July and August—the very time when many cool-season grasses and clovers are slowing down.
That timing alone makes lespedeza interesting.
Because if you've spent much time farming in Arkansas, you know that summer can test your pastures.
The grass that looked wonderful in spring can suddenly look tired.
The weather turns hot.
Rain becomes unpredictable.
Pastures stop producing like they did a few months earlier.
And livestock still have to eat.
That's where a warm-season forage that can tolerate drought starts looking pretty valuable.
Why “poor man's alfalfa”?
This is the part I really like.
Alfalfa has long had a reputation as one of the great forage crops. It is nutritious, protein-rich and particularly valuable for livestock with high nutritional demands.
But alfalfa can be particular about where it wants to grow.
Lespedeza is different.
It can tolerate poorer, more acidic soils and lower-fertility conditions than many other legumes. It also has a deep root system that contributes to its drought tolerance.
That is where the old phrase “poor man's alfalfa” came from.
University of Arkansas actually uses that exact historical nickname when discussing sericea lespedeza. The explanation is that it earned the name because it could tolerate infertile, acidic soils and grow on sloping land with relatively little lime and fertilizer.
In other words:
You didn't necessarily have to have perfect ground to grow something useful.
And for a farmer, that matters.
Because not every acre on a farm is going to be the best acre.
We don't all have deep, perfect, black soil.
Some ground is rocky.
Some is thin.
Some is acidic.
Some is sloped.
Some dries out faster than we'd like.
Some acres simply have to work harder.
A plant that can take those conditions and turn them into livestock feed has value.
And then we discovered something else about lespedeza
This is where the story gets even more interesting.
Lespedeza contains condensed tannins.
Tannins are plant compounds that can affect how livestock utilize the forage. They are also responsible for some of lespedeza's unusual characteristics.
One of those characteristics is that lespedeza is considered a non-bloating legume. The tannins are part of the reason for that.
But the tannins also attracted the attention of researchers studying goats and sheep.
Why?
Parasites.
Particularly the dreaded barber-pole worm, Haemonchus contortus.
Anyone who raises goats knows that internal parasites aren't just an inconvenience. They can be a serious production problem.
And barber-pole worm is particularly troublesome because it feeds on blood. Heavy infections can lead to anemia, weakness, poor production and, in severe cases, death.
Research summarized by the University of Arkansas indicates that goats and sheep consuming sericea lespedeza in forms including grazing, hay, leaf meal, pellets and silage have shown reductions in fecal egg counts, larval development and worm burdens.
That's pretty remarkable.
A plant that farmers once valued because it would grow where other things wouldn't may also have a role in helping manage one of the biggest problems facing small-ruminant producers.
The old farmer couldn't have explained the tannins.
He probably didn't know about condensed tannins, fecal egg counts or larval development.
But he knew what grew.
He knew what livestock would eat.
And he knew what worked on the farm.
Sometimes the science comes along later and explains the observation.
But this doesn't mean lespedeza is a magic dewormer
This is important.
I'm not going to tell you that feeding lespedeza means you don't have to worry about parasites.
It doesn't.
Extension specialists are very clear that sericea lespedeza should be considered one part of an integrated parasite-management program, not a replacement for good management, monitoring, fecal testing when appropriate or targeted treatment.
That's an important distinction.
Think of it as another tool in the toolbox.
And I like that idea.
Because good farming is rarely about finding one magic answer.
It's about stacking good decisions together.
Good forage.
Good nutrition.
Good pasture management.
Rotation.
Observation.
Healthy animals.
Knowing your land.
And using the plants that naturally work in your environment.
Goats are particularly interesting in this conversation
Goats aren't little cows.
They are browsers.
They naturally seek out leaves, broadleaf plants, weeds, brush and other plants that cattle may walk right past.
Arkansas Extension describes goats as natural browsers and notes that browse and forbs can be particularly nutritious. It also notes that legume hays—including alfalfa, clover and lespedeza—tend to provide more protein, vitamins and minerals, particularly calcium, than grass hays.
That makes lespedeza especially interesting for a goat farm.
We're not trying to force a goat to eat something it wasn't designed to eat.
We're taking advantage of something the goat is already naturally inclined to utilize.
And there is something else I appreciate about that.
The goat gets to be a goat.
Summer is where lespedeza really earns its keep
This is probably one of the biggest reasons I'm paying attention to it right now.
Arkansas Extension notes that lespedezas produce much of their yield during July and August.
Think about that.
That's exactly when many cool-season forages are taking a break.
Spring is easy.
Everything grows.
You can almost feel the farm coming alive.
But summer?
That's when you find out what your forage program is really made of.
Heat.
Dry weather.
Drought.
Long stretches without adequate rainfall.
The pastures don't care that the goats still need to eat.
The goats don't care that it hasn't rained.
And the farmer certainly doesn't get to stop working.
So when a plant says, “I'll grow during the hard part of the year,” I pay attention.
That's valuable.
And drought changes the conversation
Drought has a way of sorting things out.
It reveals which plants are truly suited to your land and which ones need you to constantly rescue them.
University of Arkansas describes sericea lespedeza as the highest-yielding and most drought-tolerant of the lespedezas and notes its ability to tolerate very acidic and poor soils.
That doesn't mean drought doesn't affect it.
It means the plant has characteristics that allow it to remain useful under conditions that can seriously reduce the productivity of other forages.
And in a year when rain is scarce, that matters.
A forage doesn't have to be perfect to be valuable.
Sometimes reliable beats perfect.
But there is a catch
Of course there is.
There is always a catch.
Lespedeza's greatest strength—its tannins—is also part of its limitation.
High-tannin sericea can be less palatable and less digestible, particularly when the plant becomes mature and coarse. Arkansas Extension notes that tannin concentration and coarse stems can reduce palatability and digestibility.
That's one reason maturity matters.
Like so many forage crops, there is a sweet spot.
You can't just say:
“It's lespedeza, therefore it's good.”
Forage quality changes as plants mature.
The more mature a plant becomes, the more stemmy and fibrous it can become, and animals may be less interested in it.
That is why knowing what you have—and how mature it is—is important.
And this is one place where the old farmer and the modern forage specialist actually agree.
Pay attention to the plant.
Don't just look at the calendar.
Look at the forage.
Look at the animals.
Watch what they choose.
Watch what they leave.
That's farming.
Not all lespedeza is the same
This is another important point.
When somebody says “lespedeza,” they're not necessarily talking about exactly the same plant.
Arkansas has several forage lespedezas, including sericea, Korean and striate. They have different characteristics and different uses.
There are also improved sericea varieties that were developed specifically to improve forage characteristics.
For example, AU Grazer was selected for grazing tolerance and has finer stems and intermediate tannin levels. Other varieties were developed with lower tannin concentrations and improved forage quality.
So if you're going to talk about lespedeza—or plant it deliberately—it's worth knowing exactly what variety you're dealing with.
There is another side to the story
And because we're talking about farming, I don't think it would be responsible to leave this part out.
Sericea lespedeza has also developed a reputation as an invasive plant.
That isn't imaginary.
It can spread aggressively and produce a large amount of seed. University of Arkansas and University of Georgia Extension both caution about its invasive characteristics.
That's one reason it is important to manage it responsibly and understand where it is growing.
There is a fascinating agricultural contradiction here:
The exact characteristics that make sericea difficult to control as a plant can make it extremely useful as a forage.
It survives.
It tolerates poor soil.
It tolerates drought.
It competes.
It produces seed.
Those are wonderful characteristics when you're trying to establish forage.
They're less wonderful when the plant moves somewhere you don't want it.
So responsible management matters.
What I'm taking away from all of this
I'm not looking at our lespedeza the same way anymore.
I'm looking at it as part of the farm's forage system.
Not as a miracle plant.
Not as a replacement for everything else.
And not simply as something that's growing because we haven't gotten around to doing something about it.
It's forage.
It's a legume.
It's useful during a part of the year when forage can become harder to come by.
It can tolerate conditions that challenge other plants.
It doesn't have the same bloat concerns associated with some other legumes.
And the tannins give it an additional potential role in a goat's diet and parasite-management program.
That's a pretty impressive list.
Maybe the old farmer had it right
I think this is my favorite part.
The old farmer called it “poor man's alfalfa.”
Today, the University of Arkansas has actually suggested that, given what we're learning about sericea lespedeza, “wise man's alfalfa” might be an equally appropriate nickname.
And I can see why.
Because farming isn't always about buying the most expensive input or planting the forage everyone else says you should plant.
Sometimes it's about understanding your land.
Understanding your animals.
Understanding your weather.
Understanding what grows naturally and what doesn't.
And then figuring out how to make the most of what you have.
Right now, we have a lot of lespedeza.
So we're making the most of it.
And maybe that's the real lesson.
The best forage isn't necessarily the forage with the fanciest reputation.
Sometimes it's the one that shows up in your pasture, survives the weather, feeds your animals and asks a whole lot less from you in return.
That's the kind of plant a farmer learns to appreciate.