Wren Smith, Interpretive Public Programs Manager

When describing our favorite spring wildflowers we often use words such as delicate, fragile and lovely. While these descriptors are certainly accurate, they can belie the hidden tenacity of these little ladies of the spring woods.

Let me explain. When spring wildflowers disappear from view, it is not usually because they have succumbed to frost or freezing conditions, The real reason has more to do with the economics of ecology than fragileness or frivolity. As much as their beauty may please us, the wildflowers of spring mean business. And folks, these little “ladies” are in the business of sex.

Unlike genteel ladies in waiting, our spring wildflowers are supremely enterprising and even alluring. By necessity they take advantage of a small window of opportunity that opens in the woodlands just as daylight begins to lengthen but before the trees have fully leafed-out and block the sun. In other words, they have no time to waste in their efforts to successfully complete their reproductive life cycle.

But it isn’t just the spring sunlight that they need. They need pollen, from the male parts of flowers (usually other flowers) if they are to produce seeds for future generations. So these ladies are very busy trying to attract pollinators (such as the butterfly shown above). Their business plan includes many different marketing strategies.

Like merchants at a buzzing bazaar, these spring wildflowers advertise their wares of pollen and nectar with displays festooned with multi-colored banners. Star chickweed and rue anemone offer trembling white blossoms; soft blues and pinks in the wild phlox, and yellow suns blaze in the golden ragwort. The spring beauties (below) are appropriately named as they beckon pollinators with pink stamens and little pink veins.

The amazing diversity of forms that delight us is equally part of this strategic arsenal of allurement. Notice how the dwarfed-crested iris hides its treasure so that insects must crawl beneath the coverings to get to their reward. In turn, the iris has a better chance of receiving pollen as insects bumble beneath satin like petals.

Some like this common blue violet go as far as adding directional markings that help insects navigate towards their heart’s desire. There’s even a landing pad whose shape adds a little sheltering from the wind.

Many blossoms offer fragrance to their advertising strategy, attracting bees, and other insects that love sweet treats, but since not all clientele have a “sweet tooth,” some blossoms, like those of the wild ginger, are reported to give of the fetid smell of carrion to attract small flies and beetles. Even its maroon color is suggestive of dead meat.

Pawpaw blossoms (right) also resemble carrion.

Pollinators visiting Jack-in-the pulpit need not worry about the rain. This member of the arum family offers a hooded parking space for insect dinners. By the way, research has revealed that Jack can become a Jill; perhaps this naturally occurring sex change is also a part of their propagation strategy.

So the next time you take a wildflower walk, remember that these little ladies are attending to serious business. If you don’t believe me, just ask Jack – or perhaps Jill.