Flowers, you would think, belong to the domain of day. When you think of flowers, you think of colors bright as the rainbow, sunshine, butterflies and bees sipping nectar. Flowers seem to belong to the light, like squirrels and songbirds and people. But some flowers are creatures of the night, as nocturnal as owls or bats.
Flowers, of course, are all about pollination, the quest to get pollen (the male stuff) over to the female stuff, so the plant can create seeds, and get their genes into the gene pool. Bees are important pollinators, the ones we hear most about, but they’re not the only ones. Night-time flyers like moths are major pollinators of flowers.
Long ago, many species of moths abandoned daylight and evolved to be active at night. Fewer predators, less competition, and the flowers are there at night just like they are in daylight. Of course, some blossoms are easier to find in the dark than others. Red shades turn to black in low light conditions. Even bright yellow goldenrod is hard to spot at night. But any flower that has a touch of white stands out in the dimness like a flag.
Many flowers work the night shift. Like humans, plants are very responsive to light, and some flower heads close or open depending on what kind of pollinator they’re trying to attract. After the dandelions and daylilies go to bed, the night-pollinated flowers open for business. Some, like evening primroses and four o’clocks, don’t even open their petals till the sun starts to sink. Others, like woodland asters, glow palely in the forest shadows, even on moonless nights. Night-pollinated flowers play to their audience, some of them producing more nectar at night. Others release sweet, enticing scents after dark.
Moths pollinate flowers in spring and summer, as do butterflies and bees. But moths soldier on even when the temperatures get chilly in the fall. Long after the butterflies have checked out and the bees are holed up in their hive, the moths are out there—even well into November. Some kinds of moths are able to cope with surprisingly bitter temperatures, even below freezing. They warm up, like we do, by shivering. The moths vibrate their wings until they’re warmed up enough to fly.
I actually saw a moth do this once. The little insect shook and vibrated till I was afraid it would fall apart. This shivering serves the same purpose it does in a human, generating warmth by motion. The moth has to warm its muscles up to about 50 degrees before it can flutter off to look for food. On cold nights (is there any other kind in November?), the moth has to stop frequently to shiver its way back into flight. True, there aren’t many wildflowers left in November, but there are a few last asters and the amazing witch hazel that usually flowers around Halloween.
The next time you visit the Arboretum, stay just a little bit longer. Because everything changes when the sun goes down.
Flowers, of course, are all about pollination, the quest to get pollen (the male stuff) over to the female stuff, so the plant can create seeds, and get their genes into the gene pool. Bees are important pollinators, the ones we hear most about, but they’re not the only ones. Night-time flyers like moths are major pollinators of flowers.
Long ago, many species of moths abandoned daylight and evolved to be active at night. Fewer predators, less competition, and the flowers are there at night just like they are in daylight. Of course, some blossoms are easier to find in the dark than others. Red shades turn to black in low light conditions. Even bright yellow goldenrod is hard to spot at night. But any flower that has a touch of white stands out in the dimness like a flag.
Many flowers work the night shift. Like humans, plants are very responsive to light, and some flower heads close or open depending on what kind of pollinator they’re trying to attract. After the dandelions and daylilies go to bed, the night-pollinated flowers open for business. Some, like evening primroses and four o’clocks, don’t even open their petals till the sun starts to sink. Others, like woodland asters, glow palely in the forest shadows, even on moonless nights. Night-pollinated flowers play to their audience, some of them producing more nectar at night. Others release sweet, enticing scents after dark.
Moths pollinate flowers in spring and summer, as do butterflies and bees. But moths soldier on even when the temperatures get chilly in the fall. Long after the butterflies have checked out and the bees are holed up in their hive, the moths are out there—even well into November. Some kinds of moths are able to cope with surprisingly bitter temperatures, even below freezing. They warm up, like we do, by shivering. The moths vibrate their wings until they’re warmed up enough to fly.
I actually saw a moth do this once. The little insect shook and vibrated till I was afraid it would fall apart. This shivering serves the same purpose it does in a human, generating warmth by motion. The moth has to warm its muscles up to about 50 degrees before it can flutter off to look for food. On cold nights (is there any other kind in November?), the moth has to stop frequently to shiver its way back into flight. True, there aren’t many wildflowers left in November, but there are a few last asters and the amazing witch hazel that usually flowers around Halloween.
The next time you visit the Arboretum, stay just a little bit longer. Because everything changes when the sun goes down.
To find out more about the nature of night, please check out Wait Till It Gets Dark! A Kid’s Guide to Exploring the Night by Anita Sanchez and George Steele (https://rowman.com/ISBN/9781630763183).