Category: plants

Readers’ wildlife photos

May 18, 2026 • 8:15 am

Today we have some plant photo sent in by Rik Gern of Austin, Texas. Rik’s captions are indented, and you can click on his photos to enlarge them.  I have left the numbering of the photos to identify them since there is only one species.

I recently transplanted some Common onions (Allium cepa), and was thrilled to see them starting to bloom, but soon learned that a blooming (or bolting) onion has stopped growing the bulb and has put it’s energy into seed production. I guess that makes these onions food for the eyes rather than the stomach.

Prior to blooming, the stem (1) develops a bulge, and as the bulge gets larger it becomes translucent and you can see the umbel, or flower cluster starting to show thru (2). This made me think of the old Jiffy Pop popcorn pans!. Sometimes the flowers emerge with the petals closed (3 &4) and sometimes they seem to emerge in full bloom (5).

Photo 1:

Photo 2:

Photo 3:

Photo 4:

Photo 5:

I don’t know what the deal is with this little yellow flower (6), but I thought it looked pretty. Here is a flower prior to blooming (7), and another that is a little further along (8). The blooming flower reveals the fruit capsule (9).

Photo 6:

Photo 7:

Photo 8:

Photo 9:

No sooner do the stamens emerge to attract pollinators than spiders lay out their silk in order to trap and feast upon the unsuspecting pollinators (10). Here is the inflorescence in full glory (11).

Photo 10:’

Photo 11:

These plants have a deep emotional significance for me, since they are transplanted from the garden of a dear friend who passed away recently. I’ve never gardened before, but I started this garden in his honor and as a way to continue the spirit of his friendship. I hope you will indulge me in a tribute to my friend.

Ron Akin was a one of a kind human being (Homo sapiens) who was a free spirited cosmic cowboy, Texas hippie, and an old fashioned Southern gentleman. He dropped out of the naval academy in Annapolis to spend years hitchhiking around the country, picking fruit, performing odd jobs and starting Just For Fun parades in various locations. The parade he started in San Marcos, TX just celebrated its 49th year, and was held in his honor. He also played bass with garage band par excellence, The Callous Taoboys. I met Ron at The Dell ‘Arte School of Mime and Comedy in Blue Lake, California in 1982, and after that we spent five freewheeling summers performing as clowns at the Schlitterbahn water park in New Braunfels, TX. We remained friends for the rest of his life, and I used to visit him at his home in the country where he had a garden full of onions, garlic, and all sorts of peppers. We’d spend days smoking the harvest from his garden on his grill, as well as all sorts of meats, and sit on the porch until late at night stuffing our faces and enjoying life. I never met a more free spirited, true-to-himself human being.

Here is Ron as The FreeDumb Fairy (alter ego of the lowly janitor Freiheit Gazoontite) at Schlitterbahn, participating in the Just for Fun parade, and down home on the porch. You can also see his prodigious onion harvest!:

Ron:

I call my new garden a friendship garden, though I have to admit that it feels a little lonely right now. Hopefully the onions will be the bridge to new friendship.

Readers’ wildlife photos

May 14, 2026 • 8:15 am

UC Davis ecologist Susan Harrison has returned with some photos about serpentine ecology. Susan’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge her photos by clicking on them:

Serpentine ecology at The Cedars (Sonoma County, California)

“Serpentine” might be a familiar word if you live in a region with volcanos, earthquakes, and hot springs.  It’s an informal term for ultramafic (very high magnesium and iron) rocks, mainly serpentinite and its parent rock peridotite, as well as the soils formed from these rocks.  The common name comes from the often snakeskin-like appearance of serpentinite.  These rocks are twisted and fractured bits of the Earth’s mantle, first extruded into the ocean crust in midocean spreading centers, then fully or partly metamorphosed by hydration, and finally scraped onto land during the sliding of one tectonic plate under another – this last process being what also produces “ring of fire” volcanos and earthquake zones around the world.

Serpentinite:

Partly serpentinized peridotite:

Botanists and plant evolutionists have long been drawn to the unusual flora of serpentine.  Most plant species are intolerant of its harsh chemistry, especially the scarcity of calcium relative to magnesium, and space is thereby opened for hardier species to adapt and sometimes even speciate on serpentine.  In California’s flora of around 5,500 full species there are just over 1,000 “tolerators” that can grow either on or off of serpentine, and an estimated 255 “endemics” entirely restricted to this difficult soil.

Serpentine endemic plants in California include multiple Jewelflowers (genus Streptanthus, Brassicaceae), which have been studied to understand soil-driven adaptation and speciation.

Hoffman’s Bristly Jewelflower (Streptanthus glandulosus ssp. hoffmani):

Morrison’s Jewelflower (Streptanthus morrisoni), a non-flowering first-year individual:

Serpentine tolerators, like the Sickle-leaved Onion (Allium falcifolium), grow on varied soils.  Sometimes they show adaptive genetic differences between populations on and off of serpentine.

Sickle-leaved Onions:

Today’s photos are from a May 2026 excursion to one of the most remarkable serpentine sites in the world: The Cedars in western Sonoma County, California.  This site was named for its vast stands of Sargent’s Cypress (Cupressus sargentii), a serpentine-endemic tree.

The Cedars:

Part of The Cedars’ magic is that it’s a large (30 square km) and well-isolated block of serpentine within a benign coastal climate.  This seems to be a winning formula for promoting plant evolution, as witness four full species and three subspecies found nowhere else in the world.  Here are two species discovered by botanist Roger Raiche, who devoted decades to exploring and protecting The Cedars.

The Cedars Fairy Lantern (Calochortus raichei):

The Cedars Buckwheat (Eriogonum cedrorum):

A second charm of The Cedars is the surprising abundance of water in its austere landscape, probably because fractured serpentine rock masses tend to store rainwater and release it slowly, and also because many streams on serpentine have chemically cemented beds that create deep pools.  Streambanks here are fringed by Western Azalea (Rhododendron occidentale), Serpentine Columbine (Aquilegia eximia), and the two showy orchids shown below.

California Lady’s Slipper (Cypripedium californicum):

Giant Stream Orchid (Epipactis gigantea var. rubriflorum; photo by Nishanta Rajakaruna): \

The piece de resistance, sine qua non, ne plus ultra of The Cedars is its mineral springs. Until geologists discovered the strange chemistry of these springs in the 1960s, it was not known that serpentinization, the hydration of mantle rock, could occur in near-surface terrestrial environments.  Serpentinization supports anaerobic microbes that are collectively the most abundant life form on Earth; they are considered strong candidates for the origin of life, as well as for the possibility of life on other planets.

The spring known as Mineral Falls:

Part of the spring known as Wedding Cake:

Animal life is relatively scarce on serpentine. Here are two of only 8 bird species we saw in a full day at The Cedars.

Violet-Green Swallow (Tachycineta thalassina) hunting above Austin Creek:

Peregrine Falcon (Falco peregrinus) perched in the middle of a towering cliff:

JAC: I told Susan I couldn’t see the falcon, so she sent me a photo with the bird circled:

My friend Nishanta Rajakaruna has devoted his career to studying serpentine ecosystems around the world.   On field trips like this one, he collects photos of people leaping.

Leaping on serpentine (photo by Nishanta Rajakaruna; that’s me on the right):

Readers’ wildlife photos

May 5, 2026 • 8:15 am

Today’s photos come from reader Jan Malik, who took pictures of wildflowers in the Catskills. Jan’s photos and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge them by clicking on them.

During my recent hike in the Catskills, near Woodstock, NY, I found some spring flowers, ephemerals as they call them. They are hardy plants that use the narrow window between snow disappearance and tree leaves developing to get nearly all of their photosynthesis done for the year. They seem delicate but they need to withstand temperatures well below freezing – it was snowing on the second day of my hike and these plants weathered it just fine. To use this quick growth strategy, these plants have to be perennials, with underground roots, tubers or bulbs preserving the nutrients. All of these are native to the Northeast – there is no shortage of “undocumented” plants in the Catskills but I haven’t included them here.

Bluets (Houstonia caerulea), not so common in the Catskills. They are more widespread in acidic regions like the White Mountains of New Hampshire or generally in acidic soil:

Red trillium (Trillium erectum), with their flowers pointing down (I had to get low to take this picture) despite the second part of their binomial; that part of the name refers to an upright stalk. Their close cousin, the white-petaled Painted trillium is rare in the Catskills, preferring more acidic soils of the Adirondacks:

Spring beauties (Claytonia virginica), were everywhere, their flowers opening as soon as the temperature was high enough for the small insects to fly. They have a variable amount of pink in the petals, some plants produce them very pale and some very pink:

Dutchman’s breeches (Dicentra cucullaria) have flower shape quite similar to the Bleeding hearts, and they are indeed in the same family Papaveraceae:

Downy yellow violet (Viola pubescens). I think the black stripes have the same function as landing strips on an airfield, guiding pollinators to nectar:

There were many blue violets, this one is probably a Selkirk’s Violet (Viola selkirkii):

Canada violet (Viola canadensis) has flowers growing from a tall stalk, unlike other violets. There were other violets too in that wood, each species with unique preference for moisture, sun exposure, acidity etc.:

A lovely plant, Catskills’ specialty – ramps (Allium tricoccum), or wild leeks as some call them. They don’t bloom until late May or June, when leaves will have withered. In early spring the leaves are juicy, fragrant and tender, can be stewed, fried or just eaten raw with a sandwich. I collect them by picking one leaf from a plant (there are two to three leaves per plant), which should not kill it. The underground bulb is also delicious, reportedly, but I could never bring myself to kill it. Ramps developed their chemical defences (thiosulfinates) against animal browsing, and while deer eat it only in an emergency, for great apes it is perversely a culinary attraction. Waking up to a chill morning and leaning out of the tent to collect a few leaves for breakfast is what makes early spring hiking in the Catskills so special:

Hobble-bush (Viburnum lantanoides) flowers grow from a woody shrub. The plant can spread vegetatively, by sending its twigs low on the ground and forming roots. Hobblebush thicket can be a real obstacle for an off-trail hiker, but the plant redeems itself by developing tasty berries (ripe when black) in fall. These berries are in short supply though as thrushes get to them first:

Wild oats (Uvularia sessilifolia), not much to do with cereals, just droopy leaves resembling ears of real oats:

Dwarf ginseng (Panax trifolius) has edible underground tubers. These plants are too rare in the Catskills to dig one up and try cooking it, though:

Crinkle root (Cardamine diphylla). It is a member of the mustard family and its leaves are edible (as a salad or stewed) when young:

Blue cohosh (Caulophyllum thalictroides) in its purple-petal variant. Later in summer, the plant will produce round dark-blue berries, somewhat similar to individual grapes. They look quite attractive but are said to be poisonous. Always eager to engage in culinary biology, I once tried to bite on a berry and can assure you there is no risk of being poisoned – the taste is so awful that swallowing it is out of the question:

Trout lily (Erythronium americanum) gets its name from spots on its leaves, which are not unlike those on the fish. There were plenty of those plants in the open Catskill forest, but only a small portion of them are in bloom. They need to grow for a couple years, collecting nutrients in their tubers before becoming mature:

Readers’ wildlife photos

April 10, 2026 • 8:15 am

Ecologist Susan Harrison has contributed some photos from one of my favorite places in the U.S.—and a former field site—Death Valley, California (there are also photos from Arizona). Susan’s IDs and captions are indented, and you can (and should) enlarge her photos by clicking on them.

A March heat wave spent in the desert

Hearing reports of the best desert wildflowers in 10 years, my husband and I eagerly planned a late March camping trip to Death Valley.   Alas, when my final exams were over, a record-breaking heat wave was already ending the displays of Desert Gold (Geraia canescens), Hairy Sand Verbena (Abronia villosa), various scorpionweeds (Phacelia) and evening primroses (Oenothera), and others.

What to do??  Luckily, the deserts contain a lot of elevation. Near Telescope Peak (elevation 11,043’), the highest point in Death Valley National Park, the snow lingered and wildflowers hadn’t yet bloomed, but at least the hiking was pleasant.

Telescope Peak, center, with Death Valley on the left and Panamint Valley on the right:

Foraying briefly down to Furnace Creek, with its minus 190’ elevation and triple-digit temperatures, we saw fields of faded flowers and stayed just long enough to track down one interesting bird.

Lucy’s Warbler (Leiothylpis luciae), a dainty resident of desert oases including the Furnace Creek golf course, singing its dawn song:

We then decamped to the high desert (4,500’+) along the east face of the Sierra Nevada, where temperatures were warm but not excessive and birds and flowers were abundant.

The Alabama Hills (foreground, with Sierras in background) are so scenically dramatic that they appear in hundreds of movies and TV shows – mainly old Westerns, plus some extraterrestrial and “Himalayan” epics:

Black-throated Sparrows (Amphispiza bilineata) were abundant in the sagebrush:

White-throated Swifts (Aeronautes saxatilis), a.k.a. avian jet pilots, zoomed above the canyons leading up to the high Sierras:

Scarlet Milkvetch (Astragalus coccineus) grew abundantly on decomposed granite:

Sandblossoms (Linanthus parryae), which come in blue and white, were the focus of a classic controversy in evolutionary theory you can read about here and here:

LeConte’s Thrasher (Toxostoma lecontei), another uncommon desert bird, eluded us in the Alabama Hills.  Farther north near Bishop, California, it was a delight to find this one and its mate apparently feeding large black insects to well-hidden nestlings:

Very fortunately for me, my next work duty after our desert vacation was a speaking engagement in Tucson, and the heat wave finally ended midway through that visit.  Here are some photos from two lovely days of birding in southern Arizona.

Curve-billed Thrasher (Toxostoma curvirostre):

Painted Redstart (Myioborus pictus):

Rivoli’s Hummingbird (Eugenes fulgens):

Bridled Titmouse (Baeolophus wollweberi):

Red-naped Sapsucker (Sphyrapicus nuchalis):

Scott’s Oriole (Icterus parisorum):

Readers’ wildlife photos

April 6, 2026 • 8:15 am

Today’s photo come from reader Jan Malik, who took them in New Jersay. Jan’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

As an appendix to the earlier Tree Swallow pictures, here are a few more from the New Jersey Botanical Garden. A walk in that park on the first day of spring is a ritual of mine—to ensure all observable phenomena related to spring are happening again and that the thermal death of the Universe is postponed for yet another year.

Red-bellied Woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus) pausing mid-search for food. This is a female; in this species, the red plumage is restricted to the nape and the area above the bill, whereas males sport a continuous red cap:

Spring Snowflake (Leucojum vernum, possibly var. carpathicum), a Eurasian transplant. It looks succulent, but this perennial defends itself against mammalian browsing by producing bitter, poisonous alkaloids:

Eastern Cottontail (Sylvilagus floridanus) hiding in bearberry brambles. Against this notorious garden destroyer, only the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch offers a true degree of protection:

Forsythia (Genus Forsythia) in bloom—the unmistakable sign that spring has arrived:

White-breasted Nuthatch (Sitta carolinensis). Like the woodpecker, it is a connoisseur of arthropods hiding in bark. however, by being equally adept at feeding head-down or head-up, it finds insects that a woodpecker might miss:

Common Water Strider (likely Aquarius remigis) emerged from its winter hiding. These are predators and scavengers of insects trapped on the surface of slow-flowing streams. As a “true bug,” it has evolved to exploit surface tension. However, surface tension alone doesn’t keep it dry; the secret lies in the dense, hydrophobic hairs on its tarsi. These trap air to act as tiny “dinghies,” preventing the legs from being wetted by capillary action:

Crocus flower (likely a Woodland Crocus, Crocus tommasinianus). The flowers emerge before the leaves, which then die back in late spring after accumulating enough biomass for the year. This adaptation to montane meadows and early forests allows them to bloom early, while withdrawing underground provides a defense against browsing:

Northern Mockingbird (Mimus polyglottos) picking bittersweet fruit (likely the introduced Oriental Bittersweet, Celastrus orbiculatus). The fruit is indeed slightly sweet—a fact I confirmed before spitting it out, as they are reportedly toxic to humans. As they say: don’t try this at home; try it in nature instead:

After the meal, the mockingbird sits quietly in a nearby bush. They mimic other birds’ calls, possibly to fool rivals into thinking a territory is already occupied. It doesn’t work on me, though—I can always tell the original bird from the imitation:

Snowdrop (Genus Galanthus), another Eurasian immigrant. Most of the plants in these pictures were introduced from Eurasia to the Americas; however, with the exception of the Bittersweet, they are generally not considered invasive:

A Jumping Spider. I can’t vouch for the exact ID, but it resembles Phidippus princeps. While not my best shot, it’s worth noting that, like all others in this series, it was taken with a single lens (Canon RF 100-500mm)—a blessing for a lazy photographer.

An Eastern Gray Squirrel (Sciurus carolinensis), looking lean after winter and digging for roots and grubs in the lawn. This species is an unwelcome sight in Europe, where its introduction is displacing the native Red Squirrel. But can we really blame them? They are simply good at being squirrels. It is entirely a human fault that geographical barriers are collapsing. In this “Homogecene” era of a connected world, the total number of species will inevitably decline:

Readers’ wildlife photos

April 4, 2026 • 8:40 am

Send in your photos if you got ’em!

We have a batch of lovely hummingbird photos today sent in by Ephraim Heller, including a hummer in her nest. His captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

On my February visit to Trinidad and Tobago I managed to photograph 13 of the 18 hummingbirds that are sometimes present on the islands. A previous post was devoted entirely to my new favorite bird, the tufted coquette. Today’s post contains photos of six other species; a subsequent post will cover the remainder. The species that I did not photograph either do not visit feeders or are only present seasonally in the country.

Trinidad and Tobago sits at the junction of South America and the Caribbean, and its unusual diversity of hummingbird species is due to its recent geological separation from the Venezuelan coast and the diversity of habitats it retains. Both Trinidad and Tobago are fragments of the South American continental shelf that were once connected to the mainland and later became isolated as sea levels and tectonics changed. Trinidad was connected to South America via a land bridge during the last glacial maximum, 10,000-12,000 years ago. The white-chested emerald population restricted to Trinidad and the white-tailed sabrewing restricted to Tobago show that measurable biological divergence can occur over relatively short timescales once island populations are isolated.

Hermits (subfamily Phaethornithinae) diverged from all other hummingbirds early enough in the family’s evolutionary history that they are sometimes described as a parallel radiation. They share several features that distinguish them from typical hummingbirds: bills that are long and strongly curved (matching the curved tubular flowers they prefer, particularly Heliconia), plumage that is brown or green rather than iridescent, and a foraging strategy — trap-lining — in which each individual follows a memorized route through the forest, visiting widely spaced flowers in sequence rather than defending a single patch. Because trap-liners visit many individual plants across a large area, they tend to carry pollen between plants that are far apart, making them important cross-pollinators over distances that territorial hummingbirds rarely cover. Male hermits do not defend territories at all; instead, they gather in loose groups (leks), where each male sings from a fixed perch to attract females. Females select mates and then nest and raise young entirely on their own.

Green Hermit (Phaethornis guy):

Little Hermit (Phaethornis longuemareus):

Rufous-breasted Hermit (Glaucis hirsutus):

The rufous-breasted hermit is the primary and perhaps the unique pollinator of the deer meat (Centropogon cornutus) flower:

Here is a rufous-breasted hermit on its nest, built under the leaf of a Heliconius:

Now moving on from the hermits (subfamily Phaethornithinae), the rest of my photos are of species of typical hummingbirds (subfamily Trochilinae).

The white-necked jacobin (Florisuga mellivora) has been studied extensively because a proportion of adult females look like males. In most hummingbirds, the two sexes are clearly different in appearance, with males being more colorful. In the jacobin, all juveniles of both sexes bear the same ornamented, male-like plumage. As they mature, about 80% of females change to the typical muted female pattern, but roughly 20% retain the male-like appearance into adulthood. The leading hypothesis is that this reduces harassment by territorial males: for reasons I do not understand, male jacobins tend to aggressively harass and drive off female jacobins during feeding, while ignoring other males.  What makes this interesting for biologists is that it demonstrates that colorful, male-like ornamentation in females can arise through means other than sexual selection.

[JAC: I bet some chowderhead would say this bird has three sexes because of the dimorphism in females]

Male pattern white-necked jacobin:

Female pattern white-necked jacobin:

Long-billed Starthroat (Heliomaster longirostris):

The white-tailed sabrewing (Campylopterus ensipennis) occurs only on Tobago and in a small area of northeastern Venezuela. When Hurricane Flora hit Tobago in September 1963, it destroyed much of the Main Ridge Forest Reserve; the sabrewing population appeared to have been eliminated entirely and the species was presumed locally extinct for eleven years, until individuals were confirmed to have survived in 1974. Current estimates for the Tobago population range from several hundred to over 1,000 birds.

White-tailed Sabrewing male:

White-tailed Sabrewing female:

Reader’s wildlife photos

March 28, 2026 • 8:50 am

Today Athayde Tonhasca Júnior is back with one of his patented text-and-photo posts, which have always been very informative. Today he talks about palms and their pollinators in one area of Brazil.  Athayde’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge his photos by clicking on them.

Beneficial saboteurs

It’s approaching midday somewhere in the caatinga, northeastern Brazil’s hinterland, and the temperature will soon hit the 40o C mark. All is quiet, as most animals are sensibly sheltering from the sizzling sun. The vegetation looks dead and stunted, but it is in fact quiescent, in a state of dormancy that helps plants endure the heat and drought until the rainy season arrives.

Fig.1.  The caatinga vegetation in northeastern Brazil looks dead during dry season, but palm trees are green year round:

One palm tree, however, known locally as licuri (Syagrus coronata), doesn’t seem bothered by the harsh climate; it is verdant and in full bloom. The plant is monoecious, that is, it produces separate male and female flowers in the same individual. Male flowers grow at the end of large (~90 cm long) inflorescences, while the female flowers are at the base. Anthesis (the stage at which a flower is open and functional) is asynchronous: male flowers open first, releasing pollen and scent for 7 to 10 days. These flowers then shrivel and fall off. In about two weeks, it’s the female flowers’ turn; they are open for 10 to 15 days. Plants also bloom asynchronously, so at any given time of the year there are licuri flowers.

Fig.2. Licuri inflorescences © Drumond, 2007:

These flowery details may seem like too much information, but they are important for understanding the plant’s relationship with one of its most important flower visitors, the weevil Anchylorhynchus trapezicollis.

Like the overwhelming majority of the ~83.000 known species of weevil (family Curculionidae), A. trapezicollis feeds on plant tissues. Attracted by the scent of male flowers, a beetle uses its big schnozzle (in fact its rostrum, the snout-like projection from the head) to pry flowers open and take their pollen. While feeding, the beetle ends up with pollen grains attached to its body. As male flowers open at different times, there’s isn’t much food to be consumed in one sitting. The beetle is then encouraged to move to another plant, taking with it pollen that will result in cross pollination if the insect lands on a receptive female flower.

Fig.3. An A. trapezicollis in action on a licuri flower © Bruno de Medeiros, iNaturalist.Lu:

After feeding, a female beetle looks for female flowers to lay her eggs between the petals and sepals. The resulting larvae are cannibals: one larva will eat any competitor in the same flower. As they grow older, the little darlings shift their attention to developing fruits, which are aborted and fall off. Because it destroys forming fruits to complete its life cycle, A. trapezicollis is a seed predator. But for the cost of a portion of its fruits, the licuri palm is pollinated. This form of mutualism is known as brood-site pollination or nursery pollination, a trade-off association that has evolved for the yucca and the yucca moth, figs and fig wasps, and several other plant-insect partnerships.

Fig. 4. The licuri‘s trunk ends in a distinct crown of slightly arched leaves, a feature that inspired its specific epithet coronata (crowned) © Kelen P. Soares, Flora e Funga do Brasil:

Other weevils and bees also pollinate licuri, but A. trapezicollis seems to be the most important agent (Medeiros et al., 2019). This tight relationship has profound ecological consequences.

It is said that everything from a pig can be used except the oink, but licuri is not far behind in relation to its usefulness to humans. Its apical meristem (palm heart) is edible; the leaves are the source of a high quality wax, building materials, hats, baskets, sleeping mats and other handicrafts; ground-up leaves are fed to livestock in times of food scarcity; the tasty seeds (endosperm or nuts) are eaten raw or roasted, or added to confectionery and local dishes; oil extracted from seeds is used for lighting and the manufacture of soap, perfumes and other products.

Fig.5. The greenish pulp (mesocarp), brown hard shell (endocarp) and the nutritious white nut (kernel) of a licuri fruit © B. Phalan, Wikimedia Commons:

Humans are not the only creatures to benefit from licuri: many animals take the wholesome fruits. Among them, the Lear’s macaw (Anodorhynchus leari), an endemic and endangered species, for which licuri nuts represent the bulk of its nutrition.

Fig.6. Lear’s macaws, big fans of licuri nuts © João Quental, Wikimedia Commons:

There you have it: a palm tree of unordinary value, from people’s welfare and economy to endangered macaws and wildlife in general, is greatly dependent on pollination provided by unassuming weevils. And this is not an isolated case. More than 200 palm species (family Arecaceae) are pollinated by weevils, and so are many other plants from different lineages (Haran et al., 2023). The ‘million dollar weevil’ (Elaeidobius kamerunicus) illustrates well the relevance of these insects as pollinators. This beetle was introduced from Africa to Asia to help improve pollination of cultivated African oil palm (Elaeis guineensis), resulting in considerable increase in yields.

When we think of pollinators, bees, flies and moths are most likely to come to mind, as they contribute to the reproduction of crops and wildflowers familiar to us. Adding weevils to this select club may sound peculiar: after all, many weevils are pests capable of inflicting enormous damage on cultivated plants, trees and stored products (you may have had your pantry invaded by weevils). But that would be a parochial view. For millions of people in tropical and subtropical regions, palm trees are more than props in holiday brochures: they are crucial for wildlife food chains, human nutrition, building materials and commodities such as medicines, industrial products and fibre. A great deal of these benefits depends on a range of poorly known, frequently dismissed and often vilified weevils.

Fig.7. Six species of weevil known to be involved in brood-site pollination © Haran et al., 2023:

 

References

Drumond, M.A. 2007. Documentos, 199. Embrapa Semi-Árido.

Haran, J. et al. 2023. Most diverse, most neglected: weevils (Coleoptera: Curculionoidea) are ubiquitous specialized brood-site pollinators of tropical flora. Peer Community Journal 3: e49.

Medeiros, B.A.S. et al. 2019. Flower visitors of the licuri palm (Syagrus coronata): brood pollinators coexist with a diverse community of antagonists and mutualists. Biological Journal of the Linnean Society 126: 666-687.