Why protecting working lands matters for waterfowl, hunting culture, and coastal resilience

As duck season nears and the skies begin to fill with wings, much of Texas’s coastal story is unfolding quietly in muddy fields. It’s a story not just about waterfowl, but about people, heritage, and working lands that sustain both.

At the center of it all is rice farming – a practice that has shaped the Texas Gulf Coast for over a century. Today, as rice acreage declines under mounting pressures, the fate of ducks, hunters, rural economies, and even coastal ecosystems hang in the balance.

A History Written in Rice

Texas rice farming traces back to the late 1800s, when immigrants along the Gulf Coast discovered the fertile alluvial soils and abundant rainfall created near-perfect growing conditions. The earliest operations were far from the large-scale production we think of today. As historian Henry C. Dethloff describes in The History and Development of the Texas Rice Industry:

“The earliest form of rice cultivation in Texas involved essentially pioneering agriculture. Farmers plowed small plots with oxen, planted seed by hand, depended on rainfall for cultivation, and harvested with hand sickles. Milling was with a crude mortar and pestle. Consumption was strictly local. Considerable acreages of rice were grown in southeast Texas as early as 1853 by William Goyens and in Beaumont in 1863 by David French. The latter is often considered the first major rice farmer in Texas.”

By the mid-1900s, Texas was producing hundreds of thousands of acres of rice annually, stretching from Beaumont and Winnie down to Matagorda and El Campo.

But rice was never just a crop – it became a way of life. Rural communities thrived around it, and its presence shaped the landscape in ways that echoed beyond farming: shallow flooding, crop rotations, and irrigation infrastructure created habitat that mimicked natural wetlands, attracting migratory birds in staggering numbers.

Surrogate Wetlands: Lifeline for Waterfowl

The Texas Gulf Coast is a critical wintering ground for ducks, cranes and geese in the Central Flyway. Historically, natural wetlands like coastal marshes and prairie potholes provided abundant food and shelter. But as those habitats diminished under urban growth and land conversion, rice fields stepped in as a surrogate.

Flooded rice stubble provides shallow water rich in waste grain, small aquatic animals, and native vegetation. For species like pintails, gadwalls, teal, sandhill cranes, and snow geese, these fields are not just supplemental – they are essential.

Research shows that in some years, up to half of the food resources available to wintering waterfowl on the Texas Coast come from rice fields. Without them, bird populations would face steep declines.

“Flooded rice fields provide pintails and other waterfowl with high-quality feeding habitat. In fact, rice fields have helped mitigate the loss of natural seasonal wetlands in many areas.”

Bart Ballard, Ph.D.

As Bart Ballard, Ph.D., explains in Trouble for Texas Pintails (Ducks Unlimited):

“Research has confirmed that wintering pintails spend most of their time in flooded, harvested, and fallow rice fields. The affiliation of pintails to rice agriculture is not a new revelation, as pintails winter in great numbers in other major rice-producing areas of North America. Rice farming is one of the few land uses along the Texas coast that has been beneficial to waterfowl. Flooded rice fields provide pintails and other waterfowl with high-quality feeding habitat. In fact, rice fields have helped mitigate the loss of natural seasonal wetlands in many areas.”

But that lifeline is shrinking. Rising production costs have made rice less profitable for farmers to cultivate. Many rice fields have been replaced by other crops, converted to pasture, or overtaken by expanding urban areas. Since the 1970s, rice acreage along the Texas coast has declined by nearly 60 percent.

The Cultural Fabric of Hunting

Rice fields and duck blinds go hand-in-hand in Texas. For generations, hunters have partnered with rice farmers to lease land for waterfowl hunting. These partnerships provide income to landowners and access to hunters, creating a tradition that fuels rural economies and family legacies alike.

Duck camps scattered along the coast aren’t just places to hunt; they’re places where stories are told, skills are passed down, and bonds are strengthened. Without rice farming, these traditions begin to fray.

The Domino Effect of Decline

The role of rice farming extends beyond wildlife and hunting. Rice is a stabilizing force for rural economies, supporting farm families, suppliers, and local businesses that rely on seasonal activity.

Over the last few decades, rice acreage in Texas has dramatically declined due to urban development, water shortages, and economic pressures. Where once over 600,000 acres of rice grew, today less than half of that remains.

The loss creates a domino effect:

• Habitat for millions of birds disappears.
• Hunting traditions wither.
• Local economies weaken.

If rice farming fades, we lose more than a crop. We lose part of Texas itself.

Keeping Working Lands Working

The solution lies in supporting rice farmers, not only as food producers but also as habitat stewards. By investing in conservation, we ensure that working lands continue to serve both people and wildlife.

As hunters set their decoys this season, it’s worth remembering that every duck dropping into a rice field is proof that working lands matter.

As farmers climb into their combines, it’s worth remembering that every harvest is another year supporting not just an industry, but a lifeline –  for ducks, for hunters, for communities, and for the coast itself.

If we lose rice, we lose a part of Texas. If we protect it, we protect a future where communities and tradition still thrive.