National Pollinator Week 2020

The birds and the invertebrates

Ant: photo by Cliff Hutson

June 22-28, 2020 is National Pollinator Week.   It is an annual celebration of the many animals that move pollen to help plants make fruit or seeds.

While it is probably safe to say that most people readily identify honey bees as pollinators, many other creatures are also crucial to the lifecycle of plants.  It should not be a surprise that butterflies  and moths are among the usual suspects.  (Ants should probably be excluded, but I like my opening photograph so I am including it anyway.)

Butterfly Bush: photo by Cliff Hutson

Another thing that I find amusing is that much of the literature maintains that flower shape dictates the pollinators for a plant. Which is to say that flat flowers attract butterflies, cup shaped flowers bees, and tubular flowers humming birds. However, as I used to joke with my students, the animals do not read those papers. 

To wit, I can present bees  that are thinking outside of the box or perhaps they just have a rebellious nature.

Bee on California Sunflower; photo by Cliff Hutson

Bee & Camellia: photo by Cliff Hutson

Nevada Mining Bee: photo by Cliff Hutson

While Ladybugs are noted for eating aphids and other plant destroying pests, it seems that help in pollination as well.

Ladybug: photo by Cliff Hutson

Finally, this butterfly seems to be going by the book.

Painted Lady Butterfly: photo by Cliff Hutson

Pollinators are essential to our environment. The ecological service they provide is necessary for the reproduction of over 85% of the world’s flowering plants, including more than two-thirds of the world’s crop species.  

Here are some ways that we can help them to carry on:

• Grow a variety of bee-friendly flowers that bloom from spring through fall.
• Protect and provide bee nests and caterpillar host plants.
• Avoid using pesticides, especially insecticides.

California Native Plant Week #8

Wildflower Meadows

Meadow with Lupins: photo by Cliff Hutson

Technically, a meadow is simply an open habitat vegetated by grasses and other non-woody plants. However, few things evoke magical memories like spring wildflowers.

Common Meadowfoam: photo by Cliff Hutson

Collinsia: photo by Cliff Hutson

Tidy Tips and Lupins:  photo by Cliff Hutson

Clarkia amoena: photo by Cliff Hutson

Clarkia Fan: photo by Cliff Hutson

Nature vs the Folly of Man

“History shows again and again how nature points up the folly of man . . .”

Blue Oyster Cult, "Godzilla" 

Monarch Caterpillar: photo by Cliff Hutson

A Book

Last night I finished reading "Career of Evil," by Robert Galbraith. This author is better known as J.K. Rowling, of Harry Potter fame. It is the third book, written under this pseudonym,  about Cormoran Strike, a private deceive, and by far the worst in my opinion. I very much enjoyed "Cuckoo's Calling", the first in the series. The second "The Silkworm" was just adequate, to my mind. This last book stinks, in my opinion.

A more discerning reader might take exception to that. Which is cool by me. But, I found the descriptions of the crimes to be far too grisly for my taste. I feel that detective stories can be well done without this nonsense as proven by Robert Crais, Agatha Christy, and Edgar Allen Poe, whom many contend to be the progenitor of the genre.

However, I was very much intrigued that "Career of Evil" has an interesting conceit of heading up most chapters with lyrics from songs recorded by the band Blue Oyster Cult. Now, I have long considered myself to be a BÖC fan, but was not familiar with hardly any of these lyrics. And, after having seen them in this context, may never be able to enjoy listening to the band again.

  

Milkweed in Bloom: photo by Cliff Hutson

The Music

Even so, I will hold on to my second favorite BOC song, "(Don't Fear) The Reaper".  And, the one I like the best, "Godzilla". 

Just like the the novel, I started off this post with a snippet of actual lyrics. However, I have always thought of them as, "nature must pay for the folly of man." 

I, for the purposes of today's lesson, relate this conjecture to the decline of the Monarch Butterfly. As the referenced article states - "Across North America, the number of monarchs has dropped 27 percent in the last year alone, and by four-fifths since the 1990s. Habitat loss, especially in midwestern farm country, is a big reason. Farmers have plowed up most of the nation's milkweed patches to plant GMO soy and corn, much of it for ethanol fuels. But monarch caterpillars can only eat milkweed. And less food means fewer butterflies."

Asclepius fascicularis: photo by Cliff Hutson

The Pitch

Monarch caterpillars rely on milkweeds for food.  Fortunately, many California native species are quite attractive in the garden — and unlike milkweeds from elsewhere, they've evolved to bloom right when California monarchs need them.

Thus, I propose that many of us are in a position to give these little guys a hand. Please consider giving some space to help out our fellow creatures.

An Aside

The California Wildflower Show runs at RSABG from April 22 - 24, and the Butterfly Pavilion opens May 13, 2017.

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Sticky Monkeyflower

Orange Bush Monkeyflower

Sticky Monkeyflower: photo by Cliff Hutson

The author Elmore Leonard  gave the advice that a writer should never open with the weather. So, I am not going to talk about the drought in California and how it has played havoc with the list of plants I intended to write about this year. However, one of them has held its own.

Orange Bush Monkeyflower, or Sticky Monkeyflower, Diplacus aurantiacus (aka Mimulus aurantiacus), is a plant that is native to California and is found only slightly beyond our borders. It is common in disturbed areas of coastal sage scrub, and also found in the chaparral and live oak woodland communities. It is fairly abundant in my local foothills, so it is a personal favorite when it comes to wildflowers.

Once placed in the Scrophulariaceae (Figwort family), most references now have it in the Phrymaceae (Lopseed family). It is a perennial shrub which flowers March through June. The blossoms are two to three inches long and can be white, yellow, or red; as well as the namesake orange. The name monkeyflower comes from the flowers which, some say, look, like small faces when viewed from the front.  I have never seen a face. May be it is a lack of imagination on my part, but I am willing to take their word for it. The leaves are one to two inches long, dark green with deeply impressed veins, and are sticky to the touch. The stickiness is due to a phenolic resin which helps the plant retain water in dry environments.

The plant is shrubby and may be sprawling, but can grow to four feet tall. It is attractive to bees and hummingbirds; in Southern California, monkeyflower's most frequent visitors are Anna’s hummingbirds and Allen’s hummingbirds. Also, it is a forage source for the larva of Variable Checkerspot and Common Buckeye butterflies.

Birds, bees, and butterflies help make our world function. I am not a gardener, but I am tempted to plant a few of these monkeyflowers at home to help make up for the huge hit these creatures have taken due to changes in their habitats.

Bird’s Eye Gilia

Tricolor Gilia

Bird's Eye Gilia: photo by Cliff Hutson

Bird’s Eye Gilia, or Tricolor Gilia, (Gilia tricolor) is an annual herb that is native to California, where it is found naturally in the Central Valley and surrounding mountain ranges and foothills, with major populations around the Bay Area. 

A member of the Phlox family (Polemoniaceae), it is described as delicate with a spreading branched stem that grows up to a foot in height. The leaves are alternate and finely dissected. It may bloom from April through August. One would think, given the name, that the, 1/2 inch wide or wider flowers, borne atop the stems, would have three colors. White and lavender are predominate in the petals. One then has a choice of the blue pollen or one of the throat colors of yellow and dark purple for the third. One source cites the “blue stamens encircling the yellow throat of the flower, which is set off by a dark purple ring”.  The flowers seem very attractive to bees. Humans can only imagine what they are seeing at their short-wavelength end of the spectrum of visible light.

The Gilia genus, as previously noted, is named for Filippo Luigi Gilii (1756-1821), naturalist and director of the Vatican observatory.  He, for twenty-one years, made twice daily meteorological readings at the Observatory, and had the meridian line and obelisk placed in front of St. Peter's for readings of the seasons.

This gilia is widely cultivated, being frequently included in wildflower seed mixes. In addition to bees, it attracts butterflies and birds. It is drought-tolerant; suitable for xeriscaping, and does not mind full sun. My research found  herbaria with two specimens that were collected well outside its range.  One was from Silverado Canyon in Orange County. The other from “Claremont; North side of Foothill Blvd. between Darthmouth (sic) and College Ave.” As the latter is just out side the grounds of the botanic garden where I work, I am willing to bet that these specimens were garden escapees. 

Butterfly Stamps

Butterfly Stamps by Cliff Hutson

The other day, I was cleaning out a drawer in my home office desk and found these stamps that my late wife and I used to mail our wedding invitations in 1977. We saved a few as a keepsake because we felt they were so pretty.

Both of us had a keen love of nature and butterflies were a special favorite of her's as well. So these these stamps seemed a perfect grace note to the announcement of our union.