The surprising science behind hummingbirds and flowers

Fast and graceful, hummingbirds flit from flower to flower—but which ones and why? A Chicago Botanic Garden scientist and his collaborators recently made some unexpected findings on the subject.

It’s a common perception that plants are perfectly matched to their pollinators and that each pollinator has a specific flower type that they are attracted to. For hummingbirds, many gardeners and scientists alike have long assumed their flower type to be one that is strikingly red, tubular, and scentless.

Flowers that are often thought of as typical choices for hummingbirds:

Wyoming paintbrush (castilleja linariifolia)
Wyoming paintbrush
Castilleja linariifolia
Giant red paintbrush (castilleja miniata)
Giant red paintbrush
Castilleja miniata
Scarlet gilia (lpomopsis aggregata)
Scarlet gilia
Ipomopsis aggregata

It’s not hard to see why anyone might assume that hummingbirds and certain kinds of flowers are perfect matches. Hummingbird visits to flowers are visually striking, and many casual observations suggest a typical and consistent set of floral characteristics associated with this plant-pollinator interaction. The vibrant red or orange color of blooms appear as if they were designed specifically to attract the eye of hummingbirds. A hummingbird’s long bill appears perfectly matched for the extraction of nectar from the long, tubular flowers. But don’t be fooled—while it’s satisfying to organize flowers and pollinators and their interactions into clear-cut categories (known as pollination syndromes), these human constructs may mask what is really going on in nature.

Many “typical” hummingbird flowers belong to species that produce diluted nectar with lower sugar concentrations. Yet the hummingbird’s signature hovering flight burns massive amounts of calories. From the hummingbird’s perspective, it would therefore be much more efficient to drink from flowers with more concentrated nectars. Hummingbirds are also known to have acute color vision and show no innate preference for the color red—in other words, there is no reason for them to exclusively focus on red or orange flowers. And their long and slender bills are perfectly capable of extracting nectar from both long and shallow flowers. Finally, hummingbirds do have a sense of smell. So why would hummingbirds go out of their way to visit a limited selection of reddish, long-tubed, scentless flowers that produce cheaper nectar when they could feed from more suitable nearby sources in a diverse buffet of flowers?

Flowers that are “atypical,” or lacking the characteristics we associate with hummingbird-visited flowers (note that they vary in color, shape, odor, and nectar concentration):

Nuttall’s larkspur (delphinium nuttallianum)
Nuttall’s larkspur
Delphinium nuttallianum
Glacier lily (Erythronium grandiflorum)
Glacier lily
Erythronium grandiflorum
Ballhead waterleaf (Hydrophyllum capitatum)
Ballhead waterleaf
Hydrophyllum capitatum

The Garden’s  Paul CaraDonna, Ph.D., and his research collaborators Nickolas Waser, Ph.D., and Mary Price, Ph.D., of the Rocky Mountain Biological Laboratory, discovered that it all comes down to the basic economics that maximize energetic gain at minimal energetic cost. While camping and conducting research across the American Southwest, the three researchers kept observing something curious and unexpected: hummingbirds routinely visited flowers that lacked the expected typical characteristics of hummingbird flowers.

To make sense of these observations, the team dug back into their field notes from the past four decades and began to look more closely at the potential profitability of atypical vs. typical flowers for hummingbirds. Their field notes contained information on hummingbirds’ foraging rates at flowers and measurements of the nectar sugar concentrations; with this information, the team was able to calculate the energetic profits that could be gained by a hummingbird foraging at either type of flower.

How do hummingbirds choose flowers?
A broad-tailed hummingbird (Selasphorus platycercus) feeding from the so-called “atypical” flowers of pinedrops (Pterospora andromedea). Photo courtesy: Audrey Boag

What the team found was that typical and atypical flowers overlapped considerably in their energy content and profitability for hummingbirds. In other words, most typical flowers were no better than most atypical flowers and most atypical ones were no worse than most typical ones. Taken together, this research reveals that hummingbirds are making an energetic profit—not a mistake—when visiting these atypical flowers. In fact, atypical flowers may play a critical yet underappreciated role in supporting hummingbird migration, nesting, and populations in areas that seem to be lacking in suitable floral resources. The results of this research were recently published in the peer-reviewed scientific journal The American Naturalist. Neither typical nor atypical flowers are categorically better or worse than the other, and instead show considerable overlap in the energetic gain they offer to foraging hummingbirds.

Many hummingbird conservation efforts focus solely on typical flowers. Perhaps you have come across suggested hummingbird plant lists that are dominated by typical species. Now knowing that atypical plants can support the migration and residence of hummingbirds, we can consider more than just the typical plants as food resources in habitats and along migration routes.


Karen Wang

Guest blogger Karen Wang graduated with a B.S in ecology and evolutionary biology and a B.A in creative writing from the University of Arizona in 2017. She has worked as a research assistant on a variety of projects, mostly involving pollinators such as bees and moths. 


©2018 Chicago Botanic Garden and my.chicagobotanic.org

Bees in the Big City

The plants you see from your train seat on the Metra Union Pacific North line may help conservation scientists learn about how urban areas impact native bees.

Although most people think of honeybees when they think about bees, there are more than 4,000 native bee species in the United States and 500 species in Illinois alone. Like their honeybee counterparts, native bees are undergoing global declines, making them an important conservation concern. With the growth of urban areas, native bees may be faced with new challenges, yet we don’t know the extent that urban areas impact native bees.

My research at the Chicago Botanic Garden is investigating how urban areas may affect native bees in Chicago. Chicago is an ideal city to study the impact of urbanization on native bees because the intensity of urbanization slowly wanes from the urban core of the city out into the surrounding suburbs.

Megachilid (leaf cutter) bee
My research is focused on native bee species in Illinois like these Megachilid(leaf cutter) bees.
Megachilid (leaf cutter) bee
Part of that research is about bringing public awareness to the other native bees we have around Chicago.

To explore native bee communities along this urbanization gradient, I have a series of eight sites along Chicago’s Union Pacific North Metra (UP-N) railway. I chose the sites along the rail line because they followed a perfect gradient from very urban to very suburban. I was also drawn to them because most of the vegetation around the sites is unmanaged and composed of similar species.

All of the sites vary in the levels of green space and impervious surface (concrete/buildings) surrounding the sites. Sites near downtown are surrounded by nearly 70 percent impervious surface, while sites near the Chicago Botanic Garden are surrounded by just 15 percent impervious surface.

[Click here to view video on YouTube.]

Studying bees in this area along the Metra line allows us to ask a variety of questions about native bees. For instance: Are there fewer bees in highly urban areas? Are there different bees in natural areas compared to urban areas? Do the bees in highly urban areas have different traits than those in natural areas?

Pollinator Collection Near the Metra with Andrea
Andrea and an intern collect bees along the Metra line.

This summer, a few interns at the Garden and I have been gathering and sampling bees at each of my eight field sites. To catch the bees, we use two methods. First, we set out fluorescent colored bowls with soapy water that attract and capture the bees. Secondly, we use a butterfly net to capture bees at the site throughout the day. When we are finished sampling, the bees are taken back to the lab at the Garden’s Daniel F. and Ada L. Rice Plant Conservation Science Center and pinned for future study.

In addition to collecting the bees, we also record all of the flowering plants and count how many flowers are blooming at the sites.

Although our days are currently filled with fieldwork and pinning, in the fall we will spend almost all of our time in the lab identifying the bees down to the genus or species level. When we have all of the bees identified, we can then start analyzing the data for my master’s thesis and answer some of the questions we have put forth. We suspect we will see a higher abundance and diversity of bees in sites located in more natural areas with more flowering plants.

My research will help us understand how urban areas are shaping native bee communities and help us determine what landscape features promote native bee diversity in urban environments, some of which can be implemented in urban restoration projects. We also hope that this work will illuminate the amazing diversity of native bees we have here in Chicago.


©2018 Chicago Botanic Garden and my.chicagobotanic.org

Of Assassin Bugs and Damselflies in the Summer Garden

If you happened to walk around the Heritage Garden in late June, the unusual blue color of the Moroccan mountain eryngo (pronounced eh-RING-go), Eryngium variifolium, probably caught your eye, and its peculiar perfume tickled your nose. It was also swarming with flying insects.

The odor was not lovely and sweet. I would describe it as similar to musty, molding fruit—not unpleasant, but certainly not a fragrance you would wear. It only lasted a few days, during which time it hosted an amazing number and variety of insects. I attempted to photograph and identify as many of them as I could. This was a lot harder than I expected, because the insects were in constant motion and most of them were small. I didn’t always capture the key features needed to identify them at the species level. In spite of this, you’ll see that that the variety was astounding. Let me introduce you to what I found at the Chicago Botanic Garden recently.

1. Carpenter bee

PHOTO: a carpenter bee perched on a eryngo flower.
Carpenter bees are often confused with bumblebees because of similar size and coloring. The carpenter bee has a black abdomen and a black spot on the back of its thorax (middle section). That’s how to tell the difference.

2. Mason bee

PHOTO: a mason bee on an eryngo flower head.
Mason bees are in the Megachile family. The are also known as leaf-cutter bees.
PHOTO: a megachile bee is covered in pollen.
This mason bee has filled the “pollen baskets” on its hind legs with pollen from the eryngo, and they are now swollen and bright yellow. Pollen is also sticking to the hairs on its thorax and underside. It is a good pollinator!

Carpenter bees and Mason bees are native to our region. Honeybees are not native to the United States. I saw honeybees in the Heritage Garden, but they were not interested in this flower. Honeybees tend to go for sweeter-smelling flowers.

3. Red admiral butterfly

PHOTO: a Red Admiral butterfly is perched on a eryngo flowerhead.
The red admiral, with its characteristic red stripe across the middle of the upper wings, is  common in our area.

4. Azure butterfly

PHOTO: the azure butterfly's wings are smaller than that flower head it is perched upon.
This tiny gray-blue butterfly is an azure. Some azures are the same blue color as the eryngo flower.

A monarch butterfly also flew overhead while I was taking pictures, but it didn’t stop by. Again, the scent of this flower isn’t attractive to all pollinators. 

5. Squash vine borer (moth)

The squash vine borer larva can be a nuisance in a vegetable garden, but it is a beautiful and beneficial pollinator as an adult moth. Sometimes we have to resist the urge to judge our fellow creature as being good or bad. 

PHOTO: Picture of the moth perched on an eryngo flower head.
The squash vine borer was the flashiest visitor I saw on the flowers.

6.  Syrphid flies (hoverflies or flower flies)

When we think of flies, we tend to think of those annoying houseflies or other pests, but there are other kinds of flies. The Syrphidae family, also known as hoverflies or flower flies, feed on pollen and therefore serve as important pollinators for many plants. I found three species of syrphid flies on the eryngo.

PHOTO: flower fly hovers next to the flower head.
Flower flies resemble bees because of their yellow and black striped pattern, but this little insect bears the large eyes and short antennae that are characteristics of a fly.
PHOTO: flower fly on a leaf.
This syrphid is very small, only about a a quarter of an inch long. It looks a lot like the first, but it had a rounder abdomen. The pointed end is an ovipositor, so after inspection, I believe this is the female and the other may be male, so I counted them together.

7. Another kind of syrphid fly

PHOTO: syrphid fly on a eryngo flower
This syrphid fly is a little bigger and fuzzier than the previous one. It could easily be mistaken for a bee.

8. Mystery fly, possibly another syrphid

PHOTO: small black fly on a eryngo flower.
I was having a difficult time getting good picture of some of these small insects, and as a result, I didn’t get enough details to identify this half-inch-long fly with white triangles on the back of its abdomen.

9. Green bottle fly

Houseflies fall into the family of flies known scientifically as Calliphoridae, also called the blowfly family, and they were also represented on our eryngo plant.

PHOTO: green bottle fly seen from the back.
One view of this green bottle fly (genus Phormica) shows its iridescent green body.
PHOTO: Green bottle fly from the front.
The same green bottle fly can bee seen with its proboscis sipping nectar from the flower in this image.

10. Cluster fly

PHOTO: cluster fly on a flower.
This is the only image I got of another blowfly species, a cluster fly (genus Pollenia).

11. Tiger fly (I think)

Tiger flies prey on carpenter bees, which were feeding on the eryngo flowers, so seeing this predator around the eryngo makes sense.

PHOTO: a fly of some kind is perched on a leaf, partially hidden by the stem of the plant.
I could not get a good picture of this one, because it was hiding in the shadows under the flowers. The wing pattern suggests some kind of tiger fly. Its secretive behavior is also a clue to its identity.

12. Vespid wasp

The wasps I observed were far too busy collecting nectar and pollen to notice me. I had no concerns about being stung.

PHOTO: wasp perched on a eryngo flower.
Vespid wasps are a large family of wasps that include paper wasps—those insects that make the big paper nests. These insects live in colonies and they do sting when they feel threatened.

13. Black garden ant

I watched a few ants appear very determined as they walked up the stems of the eryngo, dipped their heads into the flower centers, and went back down the stem as swiftly as they arrived.

PHOTO: Ant on an eryngo.
The ants must have a colony living in the ground under the Eryngo.

14. Damselfly 

Where there are a lot of flying insects, there are going to be some predators. There were damselflies hovering over the blossoms, feeding on the flies, not the flower. 

PHOTO: bronze and blue damselfly perched on an Eryngo flower.
Damselflies are difficult to identify without getting a really good closeup of their abdomens and markings—and my picture wasn’t good enough. I believe this is some kind of spreadwing.

15. Assassin bug

Assassin bugs fall into the category of insects known as “true bugs.” I saw few assassin bugs lurking around the eryngo flowers.

PHOTO: an assassin bug hangs out at the bottom of the flower, probably about to catch another insect.
Assassin bugs and their kin have piercing mouth parts that penetrate their prey and suck the juices out. This guy wasn’t there to feed on nectar or pollen.

16. A spider web

Like the damselfly and assassin bug, this spider is hanging out somewhere under the flowers to prey on the flies, bees, and other insects that happen into its web.

PHOTO: Spider web that was underneath the flowers.
Spiders tend to set their traps and hide. I never saw the spider that made this tangle-web but I suspect it was well fed.

In total, I found two kinds of bees, two butterflies, one moth, six flies, one wasp, one ant, one damselfly, one assassin bug, and one spider—sixteen different bugs on this one bright, smelly plant!

The take-away from my experience is that scent is a really successful strategy for attracting pollinators. Like the titan arum, the Moroccan mountain eryngo produced a super potent blast of odor for a brief period time and then moved on to the next phase in its life cycle, which suggests that it requires a lot of a plant’s energy reserves, and may not be sustainable for a long time. This strategy works well  as long as the timing of the bloom coincides with the pollinators’ need to feed and ability to get to the flowers. 

I find this phenomenon fascinating. If you share my passion for plants and their relationships with insects, check out Budburst at budburst.org and find out how you can help scientists who need your observations to contribute data to their research. 


©2018 Chicago Botanic Garden and my.chicagobotanic.org

Why do monarchs and other butterflies have metallic markings?

At the Chicago Botanic Garden’s Butterflies & Blooms exhibition, I receive a wide variety of questions about butterfly physiology. My favorite questions are ones that don’t have a substantiated answer, only theories posited by lepidopterists (or those who study butterflies and moths). I always enjoy these questions, since they are on the cutting edge of scientific understanding.

One such question is: “What are those specs of gold on the monarch butterflies?” The short answer is “Nobody knows!” But there are a few interesting theories.

Zebra longwing chrysalis (Heliconius charithonia) top view, showing gold markings
Zebra longwing chrysalis (Heliconius charithonia) top view, showing gold markings; photo via BugGuide.net. Copyright © 2006 Hannah Nendick-Mason

Lepidopterists approach strange features such as metallic markings by asking, “What sort of advantage would this feature give to the butterfly?” Every trait found in nature exists because it gave that individual more opportunities to reproduce. Perhaps the trait helps keep the butterfly from being eaten, or it gives a male butterfly bright colors to impress the ladies, or perhaps it allows the butterfly to utilize new food sources when nectar isn’t available.

When butterflies emerge from their chrysalids, they are very vulnerable to predators like birds, since they can’t move. Their only defense is to display colors and patterns that either signal poison or blend into the environment. That means the features we see on chrysalids are no accident, as they offered an advantage and were subsequently passed down.

Camouflage is the prevailing theory as to why chrysalids sometimes have metallic spots, but wouldn’t a bright spec stick out like a sore thumb? One theory is that the specs imitate the iridescent glistening drops of dew on a leaf in the morning or after a rain.

Another theory is that the gold specs are a way of the pupae shouting, “I’m poisonous! Leave me alone or you’ll be sorry!” In the world of insects, reds, oranges, and yellows universally indicate poison, whether the insect is actually poisonous or not. Many insects, including butterflies and their pupae, use this trick to their advantage. My favorite trick is when a chrysalis has evolved to look just like a little snake. Imagine how shocked a bird or a bat would be when it discovers it’s next meal might actually make a meal out of it instead!

spicebush swallowtail caterpillar
Butterflies have adapted a variety of techniques to ward of predators while pupating, such as mimicking snakes or simply blending in. Photo by Judy Gallagher via Wikimedia Commons
Water drops in nature
One theory for the gold and silver spots found on chrysalids is to mimic water droplets.

While monarchs and longwing butterflies have gold specs, we often have species of butterflies that decided to have even more swagger by making their chrysalids appear to be solid gold. Guests often compare them to exotic gold jewelry. These pupae are so shiny, you can clearly see your own reflection in them—and that’s the point. What better way to blend into your habitat than to literally mirror it? This is the prevailing scientific theory, anyway.

Solid gold pupa
Pupae that are fully metallic are thought to blend in by literally mirroring their surroundings. You can actually see my phone and hands reflected in the chrysalids.

When you see a metallic spot on a butterfly chrysalis, you are seeing yellow and orange pigments, but it’s the intricate microscopic structure of the outer chrysalis that gives it its metallic sheen. This is where things get a bit more complicated. Entomologists refer to the outer surface of metallic chrysalids as “multiple endocuticular thin alternating layers.” That’s quite a mouthful, so they call it M.E.T.A.L. for short. The acronym fits perfectly.

Here’s another way to think of what you are seeing: Imagine a butterfly’s chrysalis as several thinly stacked layers of windows. When sunlight hits these windows, they absorb and reflect light, giving a glimmering effect.

In each phase of a butterfly’s life cycle, it is extremely vulnerable to being eaten. From slow, plump caterpillars to immobilized chrysalids to paper-thin, delicate adults, they’ve found ingenious ways to survive and reproduce. Come to Butterflies & Blooms and see for yourself.


©2018 Chicago Botanic Garden and my.chicagobotanic.org

Shrew-ed Observations

Several years ago, while walking the nature trail in McDonald Woods, I stopped, having heard a high-pitched squeaking emanating from the sedges and grasses along side the trail. (This was when my hearing was still acute enough to detect such high-frequency sounds.) It took me a while, but based on the emphatic commotion, I finally realized I was hearing either a romantic interlude or territorial dispute between two of the smallest carnivorous mammals in our woodland: shrews.

Actually, shrews are technically known as insectivorous mammals. Insectivores are critters that depend, to a large extent, on invertebrates, mostly insects, for their survival. I wasn’t sure which shrew this was, but more than likely, it was one of the commonest species, the short-tailed shrew (Blarina brevicauda).

Blarina brevicauda by Gilles Gonthier from Canada [CC BY 2.0],via Wikimedia Commons
Short-tailed shrew (Blarina brevicauda) by Gilles Gonthier from Canada [CC BY 2.0], via Wikimedia Commons

 

The short-tailed shrew averages about 4.8 inches (122 mm) in length, with the tail being about a quarter of the length of the body and head combined. It is by far the largest of the shrews we will see here. They are generally a velvety, dark gray color and have a conical, pointed snout. The ears and eyes are quite small and are mostly embedded within the fur. To aid in moving through the environment, and perhaps catching prey, short-tailed shrews use a form of echolocation, similar to bats, to move around in tunnels and the dark of night.

These high-energy, secretive animals are active year-round, so their presence is more noticeable when the ground is covered with snow. If a healthy population exists in good habitat, it is not unusual to spot their miniature tracks trailing away from small tunnel openings in the surface of the snow. If you are particularly lucky, you might happen upon a real nature drama where an owl has captured a shrew, leaving behind a dead-end trail of tracks and wing patterns in the snow.

Imprints in the snow of a screech owl's wings tell the story of the shrew that didn't get away.
Imprints in the snow of a screech owl’s wings tell the story of the shrew that didn’t get away.

Although short-tailed shrews are primarily crepuscular or nocturnal in their habits, they are often spotted scurrying around during the day under bird feeders in winter or around woodpiles or similar habitats other times of the year. Most people who spot shrews believe they are seeing mice, voles, or moles. In fact, some of the common names for these critters include mole shrew or shrewmouse. Mice and voles are rodents, which have incisors—those chisel-like teeth for consuming plants and seeds. Moles, like the shrews, are insectivores. The shrews, being insectivores and occasionally preying on other small mammals, have teeth designed for ripping and tearing, not unlike miniature wolves or weasels.

The teeth of the masked shrew (Sorex cinereus).
The teeth of the masked shrew (Sorex cinereus)

Short-tailed shrews, when active, are constantly in motion and can be easily irritated. They become aggressive if confronted by other shrews or predators. I once had a captive short-tailed shrew that I was trying to photograph in a terrarium. I placed an upright log in the enclosure for it to climb up on so I could get a better picture. As I approached with the camera, the shrew spun around to face me and leapt at the camera, then scurried away out of sight. 

The short-tailed shrew has an additional distinction of being venomous. Venomous mammals are rare in nature, so this gives the short-tailed shrew a particular distinction among our local fauna. (There have been two toxins found in the saliva of this shrew: blarina toxin and soricidin.) Grooves on the outer surface of its lower incisor teeth that help inject the saliva into its prey. This venom can easily kill or immobilize the insects and worms it feeds on, but it sometimes uses the venom to help it feed on prey larger than itself and is able to subdue frogs, rodents, or even small rabbits.

Although this venom should be of concern to a mouse, bug, or frog, humans do not have much to fear. On the rare occasion that anyone would handle one of these secretive animals, the bite might burn and produce some swelling, but it is not life threatening. Interestingly, research has been conducted to investigate the use of this shrew venom in treating a number of medical conditions.

It is not unusual to find shrews lying dead on paths and in fields or woodlands. Although there are quite a few species of shrews, in our region the most common species are the short-tailed shrew and the cinereus, or masked shrew (Sorex cinereus). Just the other day, while walking along the edge of the woodland, I discovered two dead masked shrews. This is the smallest shrew species we are likely to find here, and it is also quite common. It is also insectivorus but does not have venom for subduing prey. Like hummingbirds, shrews have an incredibly high metabolism and do not live very long. In fact, much of the time they are not hunting or eating, they spend curled up asleep to conserve energy. In the case of the short-tailed shrew, however, its toxic venom probably makes it taste bad, so they are often killed but not eaten. 

A long-tailed shrew, the masked shrew (Sorex cinereus).
A long-tailed shrew, the masked shrew (Sorex cinereus) has a pointed nose and is browner in color. It averages about 3.8 inches (97 mm), nearly half of which is its tail.

If you should be observant enough on your walks through any woodland to find an owl pellet—the regurgitated fur, bones, and feathers from past meals—you can dissect it to see what the owl has been eating. Since owls have more primitive digestive systems than hawks, the bones are not digested and turn up in the pellets. Most small mammals can be identified by examining their teeth. Shrew remains are often found in the pellets and can be quickly identified by the fact that the tips of their teeth are stained a dark brown.

Shrews are fascinating and valuable components of our natural world. Since much of their diet includes larval stages of moths, they help control many of the pest species of moths such as cutworms, army worms, spruce budworms, and other caterpillar pests of forests and gardens. Next time you are out in a natural area, keep an eye and ear alert to these miniature predators.


©2017 Chicago Botanic Garden and my.chicagobotanic.org