Pollinators – Page 2

Wood Poppy Revisited

I’ve written about Wood Poppy (Stylophorum diphyllum) before but I enjoy the native flower with its happy yellow so much I’d like to tell you more about it.

The deeply lobed green-blue leaves of Wood Poppy are poking up from the surface of the soil here in the Blue Ridge now, as the month of March approaches its midpoint.

By the beginning of April, I expect I’ll be seeing some woolly buds ready to reveal their four golden petals.

As the flower opens the two pale green sepals that protect the bud soon fall away.

The flowers of Wood Poppy provide pollen but not nectar to their visitors. Those flowers have many stamens that are topped with rich yellow anthers surrounding a pistil, style and stigma.

After insect or self pollination a seed capsule is formed which eventually hangs below the leaves.

Many seeds are released from the capsule. Seeds which are distributed in a process called mymecocory, or in simpler terms, seed dispersal by ants. These seeds have nutrient rich appendages called elaisomes. Ants collect the seeds so that their larvae can be fed the elaisomes and the remains of the seeds are tossed away in the ant colony’s “trash room.”

That trash room in an underground ant colony is the perfect place to start growing seeds. Of course the ants aren’t aware of it, but they are perfect little ant farmers. Starting a new cycle of Wood Poppies.

Bloodroot

It’s hard for me to believe since I’ve still got snow on the ground, but spring is nearly here. At least meteorological spring. It arrives on March 1. The weather here is assuredly unpredictable. We’ll see what the month of March brings forth. Spring or more winter? But plants will be sprouting no matter. One of the plants I expect will greet me later in March is Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis). A plant that’s native to eastern North America.

Take care when you’re out hiking, particularly when you aren’t on a well established trail. These little first sprouts of spring are not necessarily obvious.

Bloodroot emerges from the soil, stem carefully wrapped in a deeply veined dark purply leaf.

As the bud grows the leaf unfurls and turns to a rich green with a silvery-green ventral side. With each flower there is a single deeply lobed basal leaf. A leaf with five to seven lobes that grows to be three to five inches across.

The flower is a burst of eight to sixteen snow white petals centered with an oval yellow-green pistil which is topped by a pale yellow stigma. The pistil is surrounded by bunches of stamens with glowing yellow anthers. The blooms don’t provide any nectar but the pollen on the anthers brings bees, flies and beetles that pollinate the flowers.

And that pollination allows the seed pod to expand. Filling with seeds that have appendages called elaiosomes. Ants bring those seeds to their larvae. The larvae is fed the elaiosomes and the still intact seeds are discarded to the nest’s “trash room” which is the perfect place to start these seeds growing. This process which happens in many cases throughout the plant world is called myrmecochory. A weird/fun word which has become one of my favorites.

Tall Anemone

Tall Anemone (Anemone virginiana). A gift that shows up in my gardens thanks to Mother Nature. Filled with delight when it makes an appearance as a volunteer.

A plant native to eastern North America where it can be found in 38 of the 50 United States. In the north from Maine to Minnesota and clear to the south, Georgia and Louisiana.

A beautiful flower which has a trick up its little sleeve. Those “petals” of white or pale green are not petals at all but are sepals. And take a look at the photo above, with the crab spider on the lower right sepal. It’s just waiting to pounce on a pollinator that may come by.

The central yellow green area is the pistillate head which is encircled by stamens topped with yellow or light brown anthers. Those anthers are covered with pollen that lures hoverflies, sweat bees and other small bees.

Summer moves along. The sepals fall away and the pistillate head expands as seeds are created.

Those seeds become surrounded in a woolly world. Fluff that becomes a transportation system. Caught by the wind the seeds are sent on their way.

But that transportation system takes time. See that snow? Over the winter the seed heads persist waiting for the perfect breeze. And waiting for something else.

As the pollen lures pollinators, the fluff of the seed pod lures nest builders.

Come spring birds are assembling nests. Nests occasionally of fluff.

A Pine Warbler (Setophaga pinus) knows where to find its fluff. In the garden next to the daffodils. Perfect for the nest.

In Praise of Blueberries

In my yard I’ve got a good number of mature blueberry bushes. Twelve? Fourteen? Enough that I can stock my freezer with loads of quarts of luscious berries to last throughout the year. And the birds? They’re welcome to their share. I love that the berries entice them.

Of the birds that come to enjoy the berries some are frequent visitors that I know well. A cardinal, a perfect example. Other birds don’t often make their presence known depending on the magic of camouflage to hide from my attentive eyes. A female scarlet tanager blending right in.

Each of the seasons provides a different aspect. A different way to appreciate the berries, the bushes. Winter with the buds anticipating the following spring develop sometimes encased in ice.

Winter as the rusty-red branches provide an accent to the snow that falls.

Spring with buds creamy white. Spring with buds soft red.

Spring and her blooms. A pollinators’ playground.

And then there’s summer. You know what that means.

Harvesting and eating.

Autumn celebrates with a brilliant palette. Sumptuous warm colors that tell me there is more to come with each season.

Can you tell? I am in love with blueberries and their bushes.

Fruit at the Cabin

In front of my cabin right now, there is a constant buzz . There are loads of trees and bushes involved in the sound, three good sized trees, planted soon after our cabin was built, many years ago – pear, MacIntosh apple, and Monmorency cherry, and a good number of blueberry bushes planted at about the same time as the fruit trees. Plus there are several wild cherry trees contributing to the buzz, at the edge of the woods.

As you might imagine, the sound is not exactly being generated by the trees and bushes themselves, but by the critters that are enjoying the nectar, like the Hummingbird Hawk-moth, Hemaris thysbe, pictured above, at the apple tree.

There are loads of bees and wasps. This bee is sipping nectar at one of the blueberry bushes.

The most plentiful species buzzing about is a large number of Eastern Tiger Swallowtail, Papilio glaucus. They give action to the scene with their constant motion and larger size. The two images, above, are both Eastern Tiger Swallowtails. The top image is a light morph female. The image immediately above is a male.

This, above, is also an Eastern Tiger Swallowtail. It is a dark morph female. The dark morph female is mimicking the color and pattern of the Pipevine Swallowtail, Battus philenor. There is a measure of protection using this coloring and pattern, since Pipevine Swallowtails are poisonous and predators will be less likely to eat the mimic.

This visitor, a bit frayed, is one of my favorite butterflies, a Zebra Swallowtail, Protographium marcellus. If this butterfly were newly emerged from its chrysalis, it would have two swordlike tails and the faded coral spots, that you see here, would be a brilliant crimson.

Another butterfly buzzing about is the Silver-spotted Skipper, Epargyreus clarus, one of our largest skippers. Interesting: it is said that the Silver-spotted Skipper will not seek the nectar of flowers that are yellow. I’ll have to watch the yellow flowers on the mountain, and see! This skipper is quite common in the area.

All this action, sipping of nectar, brings on pollination of the blooms. Soon there will be apples, pears, cherries, and blueberries as a result, enough to keep me busy for a while, like the pollinators that are busy right now!

Smooth Sumac

Just a couple weeks ago, some of the bushes along my woodland edges were abuzz with pollinator activity. The flowers of Smooth Sumac, Rhus glabra, were the magnet.

Butterflies, including this Red-banded Hairstreak, Calycopis cecrops, were part of the crowd.

Honey Bees, gathering nectar, to help some bee keeper with his honey supply were also attracted. And so many other insects. Sweat bees, wasps. Too many to identify or list here! Believe me, Abuzz!

Smooth Sumac is a dioecious plant, meaning that male and female flowers appear on separate bushes.

There are many references to a lemonade being made from the berries. Call me chicken, but I’m not going to experiment, particularly because I am allergic to nuts and the thought that this shrub is in the cashew family (Anacardiaceae) is warning enough for me.

Autumn brings scarlet to the sawtooth edged leaves.

The bushes form dense colonies, by means of root suckers, and are easily spotted along the roadsides in many areas, in the fall, thanks to the brilliant red foliage.

The berries are an emergency food for many, many song birds through the winter.

This Yellow-shafted Flicker, or Northern Flicker, Colaptes auratus, is glad to have the emergency supply. I took this photograph during a heavy snow, back in February, 2010.

And as the seasons roll along, winter turns to spring. The compound leaves sprout, looking like ferns as they unfold. And the whole cycle repeats itself.

The Scarlet Berries Of Jack

True Red

At my back porch, I have a wonderful cluster of berries, a color that would be perfect for a Christmas display — a true red. These are the berries of a Jack-In-The-Pulpit, Arisaema triphyllum, a plant that is native to the moist woods of eastern North America. The plant gets its name from the odd flower that emerges in the spring.

The Pulpit

The “flower” consists of a flaplike spathe which shelters the little fellow, Jack, who is sitting in the pulpit. Jack actually is covered with the real flowers of the plant — both male and female flowers. The flowers are pollinated by flies that are attracted to the plant by heat, that the plant produces much like skunk cabbage does, and by scent. The pollination results in the brilliant red berries, which each contain one to five seeds. New plants from these seeds need three or more years before they are able to produce a flower.

Flower Color

The color of the Jack-In-The-Pulpit flower varies from a pale yellow-green, to a rich emerald green, to green with dark purple or brown stripes. I find flowers of these various colors here on my mountain. They are all the same species.

Careful

All parts of a Jack-In-The-Pulpit contain calcium oxalate crystals which can cause irritation of the mouth and digestive system, and can affect breathing. On one site on the internet, I see a warning that this plant is not to be confused with poison ivy, since both plants have leaves made up of three leaflets. I find that amusing, since I doubt that anyone would want to eat poison ivy either! Deer don’t seem to have any problem with the calcium oxalate crystals. I have found that Jack-In-The-Pulpit is one of their favorite foods.

Sumac For Autumn Color

Blossoms Of Winged Sumac, Rhus copallinum — Blossoms Of Winged Sumac, *Rhus copallinum*

Pollinator Pleasing

In mid-summer there is quite a draw at my wood’s edge. The Sumac is in bloom and pollinators are buzzing all over the flowers. I have two types of Sumac — Winged Sumac and Smooth Sumac, supplied by Mother Nature.

Fruit Of Smooth Sumac, Rhus glabra — Fruit Of Smooth Sumac, *Rhus glabra*

For The Birds

From blooms to fruit, pleasing different critters. The fruit of the Sumac attracts birds throughout the winter.

Common "Yellow-Shafted" Flicker, Colaptes auratus — Common “Yellow-Shafted” Flicker, *Colaptes auratus*

Welcome Food During The Snowstorm!

With blinding snow coming down, this Yellow Shafted Flicker was able to find a meal at one of my many Sumacs. This picture was taken in February 2010. We had 72 inches of snow here on the mountain during that winter. It was wonderful!

Winged Sumac, Rhus copallina — Winged Sumac, *Rhus copallina*

And Now The Season Of Color

Sumacs turn brilliant shades in the fall. A little bit at a time. I’m enjoying taking pictures of just one branch or two, dressed in an outstanding scarlet set against the rich emeralds of its past summer finery.

Or . . .

Or tropical shades of limes and lemons, set against the warm colors of papayas.

Smooth Sumac, Rhus glabra — Smooth Sumac, *Rhus glabra*

More Color To Come

In the next two months Sumacs will be turning on more scarlet, making the wood’s edges sing. A song I look forward to!