Hummingbirds stake out a
group of flowers that are producing nectar and then defend them,
trying to prevent other hummingbirds from taking “their” nectar. The
flowers they defend are like a trap line. The “owner” checks each
blossom in a sequence, taking nectar when it is found and then moving on to the
next flower in line. This behavior is called “traplining,” in
reference to how humans hunt beaver and other fur-bearing animals by setting out a
large number of traps and them checking them in sequence at periodic intervals.
Hummingbirds can learn how long they have to wait to get more nectar from the
same kind of flower. So after emptying one blossom they visit others and don’t
return until they first has had enough time to replenish its supply of nectar.
Yearly Archives: 2014
How do flowers make nectar?
Plants use the energy in
sunlight to make sugar from carbon dioxide and water — the process that’s
called photosynthesis. Most of the sugar is made in the leaves, the plant organ
that is specialized to gather sunlight. From the leaves this sugar travels through
the plant’s conducting tissues to the other parts of the plant — the roots,
stems and flowers. These plant parts then remove the sugar from the conductive
tissues and use it to fuel all their metabolic processes. In the flowers there are specialized cells, usually found at the base of
the flower, around the ovary. These cells secrete the sugar into a sweet droplet of fluid that we call nectar. That’s what you taste when you
pick a honeysuckle blossom and suck on it. And that sugary solutions is what the hummingbird as
well as many insects are after. The flower produces nectar at a rate that
varies with the temperature and time of day, and the nectar will accumulate if no bird or insect visits visits the flower. So the amount of nectar present in the flower depends on how
rapidly it is produced and how often it is removed by hummingbirds or bees. When
most of the nectar is removed it takes a while for the supply to be
replenished.
How do hummingbirds hover?
Some birds, like hawks that are searching for prey, can
hover to a limited extent, but it is very awkward and they are unable to fly forward or backward while hovering. No other kind of bird can hover like a hummingbird, staying motionless (except for their moving wings) in a single spot and then flying forwards and/or backwards. This ability is
due, in part, to the shoulder joint. It is a ball-and-socket joint that only
one other type of bird has: the swifts, that are closely related to the hummingbirds. This shoulder joint
allows the wing to rotate 180 degrees and is the secret to the hummingbird’s
hovering ability. The wing can supply lift not only during the forward stroke,
but also on the back stroke, by flipping over. To see how this works hold your
arms straight out to your sides, palm facing down. Now tilt your hands up a
little (about 10 – 15 degrees above horizontal). Your hands should be tilted so that the thumb side is higher than the little finger side. Now move your arms forward, still keeping them straight. This is the same
motion you use when you are treading water. To continue treading water you
would rotate your hands downward so that the thumb side was lower than the little finger
side and then sweep your arms back. This makes the little finger side of your hand the leading edge on the backstroke. A hovering hummingbird is like a person
treading water, but it is “treading air.” And it doesn’t tilt its
hand like you did on the backstroke. Instead it rotates its entire wing
counter-clockwise as it begins its back stroke. It’s as if when treading water
you, instead of simply tilting your hand in a different direction, you actually
turned your arm over counter-clockwise, so that the thumb side was always the
leading edge. It is the ball-and-socket shoulder joint that permits the wing to
flip like this. Birds without that type of joint can’t flip their wings over so
they can’t generate the lift necessary on the backstroke to maintain their position in the air —
they can’t hover.
August 7 2014 Reading
We had two readings today. Don read an amusing excerpt from
Bill Bryson’s book, A Short History of Nearly
Everything:
Sometime in the 18th
century……
The volume of life
on Earth was seemingly infinite, as Jonathan Swift noted in some famous lines:
So, naturalists
observe, a flea
Hath smaller fleas
that on him prey;
And these have
smaller still to bite ’em;
And so proceed
ad infinitum.
All this new
information needed to be filed, ordered and compared with what was known. The world was desperate for a workable system
of classification. Fortunately there was
a man in Sweden who stood ready to provide it.
His name was Carl
Linne (later changed, with permission, to the more aristocratic von
Linne), but he is remembered now by the
Latinized form Carolus Linnaeus. He was
born in 1707 in the village of Rashult in southern Sweden, the son of a poor
but ambitious Lutheran curate, and was such a sluggish student that his
exasperated father apprenticed him (or, by some accounts, nearly apprenticed
him) to a cobbler. Appalled at the
prospect of spending a lifetime banging tacks into leather, young Linne begged
for another chance, which was granted, and he never thereafter wavered from
academic distinction. He studied
medicine in Sweden and Holland, though his passion became the natural
world. In the early 1730s, still in his
twenties, he began to produce catalogues of the world’s plant and animal
species, using a system of his own devising, and gradually his fame grew.
Rarely has a man
been more comfortable with his own greatness.
He spent much of his leisure time penning long and flattering portraits
of himself, declaring that there had never “been a greater botanist or
zoologist,” and that his system of classification was “the greatest achievement
in the realm of science.” Modestly, he
suggested that his gravestone should bear the inscription Princeps
Botanicorum, “Prince of Botanists.”
It was never wise to question his generous self-assessments. Those who did so were apt to find they had
weeds named after them.
[Don’s summary of
additional material:]
Thanks to old Carl
and his Linnaean system of classification, our friend Hugh’s life is, today,
made much easier. Ground cherry was once
named Physalis amno ramosissime ramis angulosis glabris foliis
dentoserratris. Linnaeus changed it
to the much more succinct Physalis angulata, a name it retains even
today. Before the Linnaean system, a
botanist could not be sure if Rosa sylvestris alba cum rubore, folio glabro was
the same plant as what others called Rosa sylvestris indora seu canina. Linnaeus solved the puzzlement by decreeing
them both as simply Rosa canina.
Emily read a quotation from John Burroughs and one short
poem, both from the book Hummingbird
Nest: A Journal of Poems by Kristine O’Connell George, 2004, Harcourt.:
The
woods hold not such another gem
as
the nest of the hummingbird.
The
finding of one is an event.
John Burroughs, naturalist
Visitor
A spark, a glint,
a glimpse
of pixie tidbit.
Bright flits, brisk
zips,
a green-gray blur,
wings, zings, and whirr —
I just heard
a humming of bird.
July 31 2014 Ramble Report
Today’s Ramble Report was written by Hugh Nourse.
One of our UGA student ramblers, Silvio, does not have a car and needs a ride for next week’s ramble. If you can help please call him at 570-493-9010. (Otherwise he faces a 5 mile walk in August heat and humidity.)
Don Hunter’s album for today’s ramble is here.
Ronnie’s letter |
One of our younger Ramblers, Ronnie, will not be able to
join us after school starts. He sent us this letter to thank everyone who
helped him during this summer’s rambles.
July 31 2014 Readings
Two people contributed readings today, Rosemary and David.
July 24 2014 Ramble Report
Twenty one ramblers gathered at 8AM on this slightly muggy
morning to see what we could find at the State Botanical Garden of Georgia. Don
Hunter’s photos of today’s Ramble are here;
those that appear in this post were selected from them.
July 17 2014 Ramble Report
Today’s report is written by Hugh Nourse with
photographs by, as usual, Don Hunter. Don’s album is available here. This post
has just a small selection of all his photos.
Eighteen Ramblers assembled on a beautiful morning
(60 degrees) by the Arbor on the Lower Parking Lot at 8 AM.
Route: Foot of the Dunson garden, Power line down to
river; right on White trail; turned around and returned back to parking lot.
July 10 2014 Ramble Report
Twenty two ramblers appeared to take advantage of a relatively cool morning.
Don Hunter’s album of today’s walk is here. The photos in this post were selected from his album. When you see Don thank him for his wonderful work!
We had two readings today, a Mary Oliver poem, Moccasin Flowers,
read by Rosemary Woodel and Jackie Elsner read selections from China Marine by E. B. Sledge (© 2002
The University of Alabama Press):
What is a true bug?
Most people refer to all insects as bugs. During our rambles
we often see insects that I refer to as “true” bugs and today Hugh asked
me what a true bug was. Here’s my attempt to clarify.