What's in a rose? Nectar, pollen, anthers... and a lifetime of beauty and discovery

“Nobody sees a flower really; it is so small. We haven't time, and to see takes time - like to have a friend takes time.”  ~Georgia O’Keefe

A search for quotes about flowers produces no small number of results. Their beauty has inspired painters, poets, presidents and preachers. Do the scientific revelations about flowers rob them of their mystery and inspiration? I’ll let you be the judge.

A flower’s true purpose is making seeds. Every kind of flower produces pollen that is normally “exchanged” between other blooms of their species.

Since plants can’t walk so well—or buy a drink for the lovely snapdragon at the end of the hedgerow—they employ vast and sundry strategies for getting their pollen to neighboring blooms. Some plants use wind or water but most tap the locomotive abilities of some organism.

Attracting said mobile critter can be done with fragrance, shape, warmth and other tempting luxuries but their colors are what inspire preschoolers to scribble them on scrap paper and pick them by the fist-full.

   

The color of any flower is no accident. If you want to attract a hummingbird, it’s well known that red makes them, well, see red.  The compound eyes of bees, however, are more sensitive to yellows, blues, purples and even ultraviolet hues so these are more likely get their attention. Flowers that depend upon bats, moths and other nocturnal animals are well served by bright white flowers. Please note, however, that scientific hypotheses are made for breaking and casual observers find many rule-breakers; call 'em rogue pollinators.  

Ever noticed a flower that almost looks like a bull’s-eye? That’s no coincidence. Circular patterns, lines and “landing strips” can literally point to the sweet treats within.   The bluebonnet, state flower of Texas, has a little spot that turns from white to purple when its pollen has gone “stale” so bees don’t waste time carrying around pollen that’s past its “best-by date.” 

A small number of animals, like bees, can make use of pollen but most cannot. Thus we have nectar, a sugary, energy-rich treat  with which flowers bribe critters like casinos offering free buffets. 

‘A rose by any other name might smell as sweet” but why does it have that fragrance at all? Scents can attract animals from a distance, even in the dark.  Some frangrances mimic a pollinator’s “love pheromone” or the aroma of some tasty food. If that preferred food  happens to be a decaying monkey, well, there are flowers that smell like rotting meat to attract flies. Methinks Shakespeare knoweth not about the corpse flower. 

How much richer is our world because of the desperation of plants to bribe, trick or other wise enslave those of us with mobility? The science of biology, as I see it, adds to my awe and appreciation for the life with which we share this earth. Hopefully my little treatise on the adaptations of flowers will inspire you to get to know a flower a little better.

How do frogs celebrate Valentine's Day?

Just as winter ebbs you’ll begin to hear the various belches, peeps, trills, snorts and myriad other sounds of frogs and toads. If you think they all go “ribbit,” then think again.  As Florida’s great zoologist and author Archie Carr wrote, “Frogs do for the night what birds do for the day; they give it a voice.  And the voice is varied and stirring; one that ought to be better known.”

While female frogs make some sounds that roughly translate as “Keep your feet to yourself, bub,” the cacophony that kept you up on that camping trip was created by lovelorn males. They woo the ladies with lyrics go something like, “Hey, good lookin’, I’m available…and I’m a hunk-a-hunk-a-burnin’ frog!” Which, when you stop to think about it, is remarkably similar to the lyrics of every boy band hit.

You can hear the full diversity of North America’s anurans—“frogs and toads” for those who don’t speak zoology—in the book/CD The Frogs and Toads of North America, by Lang Elliott. With stunning photographs and recordings of over 100 species, this is a herpetologist’s holy book and the star of many a coffee table. Mr. Elliott travels the globe recording nature’s symphonies and his YouTube channel, “TheMusicOfNature,” and website, www.musicofnature.com will leave you wiser and, most likely, a lot more relaxed. My video here is a fun guide to frog calls, too.

Perhaps, like me, you have some tadpoles of your own. You want them to metamorphose right and you’ve probably heard about the research that shows that playing in nature makes them healthier, happier and smarter.

Well, here’s an idea for you: some moonlit night this month, grab some flashlights and head down to the nearest bubbling brook or slimy green pond. Have a seat and spend at least 60 seconds in complete silence. How many sounds can you you hear? Do you recognize any of those sounds? What else you hear? Perhaps you can even record it with your smart phone to help you identify the sounds back home.

Try shining your flashlight across the surface of the water. You may be able to see the tiny reflections of frog eyeballs shining back at you.  Did you hear sounds coming from the trees? Try directing your beam into the trees and see if you can spot the singer. At the very least, it’ll make you can do your best Jedi warrior imitation with your “light saber.”  

This is bound to create a lasting memory and you might even open a wider world of nature exploration for your child. If you’ve got a budding biologist on your hands, consider taking time for a regular frog survey. Frogs are declining around the world and regular folks are participating in a citizen science initiative called a Frog Watch at www.nwf.org/frogwatchusa/.   

All that’s involved is choosing a soggy spot near you and visiting on  a regular basis to listen for frogs. You’ll take note of what you heard, the weather and a few other details and that’s all there is to it. Yes, you can be a part of scientific research in all its glory. And repetition.   

So get out there and get muddy. Oh, and don’t forget the bug sprary.

Frog-sicles? Antifreeze made from turtle pee?

Click to see a frozen frog thaw out and spring to life!

My college zoology teacher once started off a class by putting what was, by all appearances, a frozen turtle on his lab bench.  He had just pulled it out of the freezer, he said, and assured us that it would be active again by the end of our 90-minute class.  As I recall, he admitted sheepishly that it was still inert as we filed out at the end of our lesson in ectothermy, or “cold-bloodedness,” but he invited us to return after our next class to see it unharmed and shuffling with vigor. I took his word for it and now I really with I’d gone back to see it for myself.

To be sure, animals have some amazing weapons in their battles with winter. Obviously the low temperatures are challenging but, for endotherms like mammals and birds, it’s really the lack of food and dehydrating conditions that are hardest. Food becomes scarce because it’s hard for plants to photosynthesize in the cold, dry air and shortened, winter days.

Many birds, for example, aren't really migrating to leave the cold behind. They just came up from the tropics to fatten themselves and their chicks on the springtime explosions of insect populations.  When these birds head south, they’re really heading back home. 

Even if a frog or turtle had the stamina to hop or lumber to the tropics, it’d be spring again by the time they got there so they have to face winter’s challenges head-on. Many adult turtles burrow into the mud at the bottom of their ponds where it’s at least a little above freezing. Breathing may cease, heart rates all but stop and everything slows so much that they can survive for months in a true suspended animation.  Other turtles stay at the surface and, with natural “antifreeze”(perhaps derived from their urine), remain unfrozen at temperatures well below 32°F. Some can even survive small amounts of ice in their systems. 

Some frogs, like the land-dwelling wood frog, can tolerate quite a bit of freezing.  They survive the experience by dehydrating their vital organs and moving water into the spaces between cells and organs where it can freeze and expand without causing injury. Breathing and circulation stop completely and, essentially, they've become frog-sicles.  When things warm up in, say, February, they’ll thaw out and start calling for a mate. I will pass on the opportunity to make a joke about her being cold-hearted or giving them the cold shoulder.  Wait, I think I failed to pass on that opportunity. 

Strictly speaking, none of this is truly hibernation which involves a form of thermoregulation that only mammals can do (there’s some debate about a bird or two). Still, the word has been so abused by public and scientists alike that you need not trouble yourself with the differences between hibernation, torpor, dormancy, diapause, aestivation or brumation. 

Suffice it to say that animals have amazing ways to shut themselves down when times get tough. Bat hearts beat at near-freezing temperatures. Bears sleep for six months without peeing. At least one rodent is really only active for four months out of twelve. Nature’s just full of surprises, isn’t it?

Why is any of this important? Scientists hope that some of their discoveries might be of use in medicine.  Perhaps bears can show us how to help preserve bone strength and muscle mass in bed-ridden people.  Maybe we can use amphibians’ natural antifreezes to help us in organ transplants or even interstellar travel.  For now, it’s just plain interesting and that’s enough for me.