Translate

Showing posts with label invasive species. Show all posts
Showing posts with label invasive species. Show all posts

Friday, May 6, 2016

The Most Invasive Butterfly: Cabbage White Butterfly (Pieris rapae)

A flock of cabbage butterflies
(Pieris rapae)
© Beatriz Moisset
If you see a pretty white butterfly, more likely than not you are seeing an invasive species that was accidentally introduced to this country and to many other parts of the world more than a century ago.

The cabbage white butterfly is noticeable, pretty and soft, it visits gardens, meadows, you name it. Perhaps the only places beyond its reach are higher elevations. It starts flying early in the season and produces several generations throughout the summer and fall. No wonder it is seen so often.

Cabbage butterfly
(Pieris rapae)
© Beatriz Moisset
The name refers to the plant its caterpillar feeds on, cabbage. It also eats other members of the mustard family, such as cauliflower and kale and it is regarded as a serious pest. It also feeds on a number of wild, non cultivated mustards, including the invasive garlic mustard.

The cabbage butterfly is related to a group of native butterflies, the so called whites, yellows and sulphurs or family Pieridae. Their colors, as the names indicate are either whites or yellows. The caterpillars of most of them also feed on plants of the mustard family. A total of 58 species lived in North America before the arrival of this newcomer. Nowadays, the cabbage white is seen as often as all of them combined. One wonders if the growing numbers of this invader are having an impact on the populations of native Pieridae butterflies.

Orange sulphur butterfly
(Colias)
© Beatriz Moisset
In summary, it has the qualities of so called weedy species, with high rates of reproduction, very adaptable to different food sources and a variety of habitats.

Virginia white butterfly
Pieris virginiensis
© Beatriz Moisset
The cabbage butterfly reminds me of several insect species that were brought to this country intentionally or accidentally and proceeded to become incredibly widespread in a relatively short time. Now, some of them are more abundant than any of their native relatives. Here are a few examples: the Asian ladybug, the Chinese mantis, the giant resin bee, the European paper wasp, the drone fly, and the brown marmorated stink bug.

David Quammen, a distinguished journalist who has written extensively on conservation and ecology, has coined the term “Planet of Weeds,” meaning that the ecological changes caused by humans are having a severe impact on the flora and fauna of the entire planet. We had transported unprecedented numbers of species of plants, animals and bacteria beyond their natural distributions with the consequence that many of them have become established in their new surroundings. Not only do they become established but spread out from the original place of introduction, thus deserving the name of invasive species. They impact the local flora and fauna, bringing up the extinction of many species. In this way we are causing a mass extinction, comparable to some of the most serious mass extinctions of the past.

Specialist species are more vulnerable to extinction. The ones that have the best chance for survival are the weedy ones, the adaptable generalists. We are creating an impoverished world, gradually losing precious biological diversity, biodiversity for short. It may take millions of years for this biodiversity to raise back to the present levels. The human species may never see that.

Drone fly (Eristalis tenax)
One of many introduced, widespread species

Sunday, February 7, 2016

Native species

Common milkweed, Asclepias syriaca (© B. Moisset)
Definitions of native plants abound. None is entirely satisfactory in all circumstances but each may serve a specific function. Some strive for scientific accuracy; others serve practical purposes. Moreover, in some instances the nativity of a plant may not matter to the native-plant gardener. None of us is about to give up growing tomatoes regardless of their non-native status.

The Federal Native Plant Conservation Committee proposes the following definition: “A native plant species is one that occurs naturally in a particular habitat, ecosystem, or region of the United States and its Territories or Possessions, without direct or indirect human actions.” Such definition may be useful for policy making.

The Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center of the University of Texas at Austin provides a sampling of definitions. Here are two:

“Native plants should be defined as those that have evolved and adapted to a specific location and have remained genetically unaltered by humans” (Wasowski. The American Gardener, 1998).

“All indigenous, terrestrial, and aquatic plant species that evolved naturally in an ecosystem” (US Forest Service).

Some may prefer other definitions from that list. In my opinion, the best ones are those that recognize the significance of co-evolution, habitats and ecosystems.

In North America, 1492 is commonly used as the cut-off date. It signals the arrival of Europeans on this continent and also the subsequent era of exploration of the entire planet. We may regard it as an arbitrary date; but it is one with practical usefulness as well as with historical significance. The numbers of introductions of non-native species and the distances to which they are transported started growing dramatically in 1492 and continue to grow at accelerated rates.

Humans have been introducing species to other lands from the beginning of agriculture (and unintentionally even earlier). Polynesians took pigs to Hawaii more than a thousand years ago. In recent times, Europeans introduced a new breed on the island. Is one breed more native than the other? Does it matter? We need to remember that the recently introduced breed is larger in size, more invasive, and more destructive of habitats. Habitat restoration may justify eradication of the European introduction. But removing the earlier breed, which is embedded in Hawaiian tradition and culture, would not be wise. This thorny issue will have to be decided by Hawaiians. I don’t envy them the task or the heated conflicts that this issue creates.

The Three Sisters of Native American agriculture –corn, squash and beans– are not truly native to North America. They were first cultivated in a region of Mexico and Central America several thousand years ago and carried farther north and east as well as into South America in prehistoric times. It is tempting to regard these crops as native plants, but they are not really so. Once again, the question is: Does it matter? Would those devoted to conservation and restoration want to eliminate these non-invasive, economically significant, long-established crops? Of course, not! This is not the purpose of restoration.

Further back, all species of organisms have been on the move at a certain point. To grow and multiply is a mandate as old as life itself. Those that successfully multiply need to expand their territories and invade new areas. The present geographic distribution of any given species tells us only a small part of the story. To understand the concept of native organisms, we need some knowledge of the origin, evolution, and dispersal of species and taxonomic groups.

We can use as an example that quintessential native plant, the common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca) and its relatives, the other milkweed members of the genus Asclepias.
Common milkweed flower and one of its visitors, a bumble bee (© B. Moisset)
The family of milkweeds originated in Africa many millions of years ago. Its members have been spreading out ever since. They occupied Asia, evolving into a number of new species along the way. They crossed the Bering Strait around 30 million years ago and, once again, they diversified into a number of related species. Nowadays, there are more than a hundred species of the genusAsclepias in North America. Some crossed the Isthmus of Panama and invaded South America, where they evolved into a handful of species. I find it very interesting that many millions of years later a mammalian species would originate in Africa and follow a similar itinerary all the way to the tip of Patagonia in South America. I am talking about us, Homo sapiens.
Geographic distribution of Asclepias syriacaUSDA map
USDA maps illustrating the geographic distribution of species ofAsclepiasSee the complete page
The USDA maps show the distribution of the common milkweed, Asclepias syriaca, and of other members of the genus. The common milkweed is found in all the Eastern United States and Canada and also in parts of the West. Other milkweeds occupy more limited territories, some overlapping each other. We can be certain that their geographic ranges have not remained constant in the thousands of years of their existences. They responded to climatic changes that caused glaciers to expand and retreat by migrating north or south and by contracting and expanding their territories accordingly. Still, we regard them as native to the areas where they are naturally present.

Adult monarch on common milkweed (© B. Moisset)

Milkweeds didn’t come alone. They are part of ecological communities that include other species, some tightly, other loosely, linked. Milkweed butterflies, having tied their destinies to those of milkweeds, followed their host plants. The genusDanaus originated in Africa and spread out along with milkweeds covering similar territories. These were the ancestors of the monarch butterfly (Danaus plexippus) and its relatives.
Longhorn milkweed beetles (© B. Moisset)
In fact, the southern monarch (Danaus erippus), a resident of southern South America, is so similar to the North American monarch that both were considered members of the same species until recently. Curiously, this southern monarch, like its northern sister, is migratory. Even more curiously, it migrates south to a colder climate, when winter comes. This is the kind of natural history mystery that keeps me awake at night. I hope that somebody uncovers the secrets of the southern monarch and lets me know.Monarch butterflies are not the only insects that take advantage of milkweeds. A whole menagerie has evolved to feed on these plants. There are milkweed longhorn beetles, large and small milkweed bugs, milkweed weevils, and milkweed tussock moths, just to name the most familiar ones. All of them are adapted to the strong milkweed toxins. These poisons remain in their tissues and give them some protection against predators, which find them inedible.

Lady beetle larva, Coleomegilla (© B. Moisset)
However, despite the protection that the milkweed toxins provide to its feeders, some predators and parasites are adapted to this inconvenience. Several species of birds and mice feed on monarchs, both in this country and in Mexico, where they spend the winter. A number of predatory and parasitic insects also depend on monarch butterflies for nourishment. Thus the milkweeds and their dependents and the other components of the food chain are all linked together. They have been co-evolving for millions of years and are functional parts of their ecosystems.

Silver-spotted skipper (© B. Moisset)
These relationships matter when we talk about native plants. A non-native organism, one newly arrived into an ecosystem, lacks this kind of co-evolved interactions with the other members of the community. It is not a functional component of the ecosystem. Eventually, new interactions will develop given enough time. This may take tens of thousands or millions of years. This is why the best definitions of native plants involve the words “co-evolution,” “habitat,” “community,” or “ecosystem.”

In some instances, it is hard to tell what is native. In certain cases, it may not be important or practical to consider the nativity of a plant, as in the example of the crops grown by Native Americans. That which really matters is the long established and complex relationships present in ecosystems. A native plant is one that is ecologically linked to other components of the ecosystem where it is found.

Some important concepts lack a perfect definition. We need to name them, nonetheless. Biologists would be lost if they couldn’t use the concept of “species” just because no definition fits all the circumstances. This word is not only important but absolutely necessary. One may need to use different definitions of “species” depending on the discipline; but that is no reason to give up the word. The concept of “native” organisms is equally necessary. It is here to stay, regardless of the difficulties that may arise at times.
Robins are among the birds that sometimes eat monarchs (© B. Moisset)
Originally published by Native Plants and Wildlife Gardens

© 2012, Beatriz Moisset. All rights reserved. This article is the property of Native Plants and Wildlife Gardens.

List of articles
Beginners Guide to Pollinators and Other Flower Visitors

Monday, March 4, 2013

Pollinators of the American Chestnut


American Chestnut Pollen Stalks: Photo by Timothy Van Vliet
 "And the blossoms gave up one of the best honey crops we ever had." said Noel Moore of Rabun County, Georgia, in 1980 when asked about his memories of the American chestnut. He added mournfully: "We've never had a honey crop like we did since the chestnuts died, because there's not that much nectar in the wild now. Whenever chestnuts bloomed, in the morning, early, the trees looked like just the whole tops were alive with honeybees working on getting the nectar."

The American chestnut, Castanea dentata, became virtually extinct as a species, almost entirely gone from the Eastern United States by the 1950s. Before that time it had represented 25% to 30% of the forest canopy from Maine to Georgia. An infestation arrived from Asia, probably introduced with Asian chestnut trees brought by horticulturists. A fungus, first noticed in 1904, but probably already present in several areas of this country, had become a killer of native chestnut trees.

The Asian chestnut species has coexisted with the fungus for millions of years and has developed ways to withstand its attacks; but the American chestnut is helpless. To make things worse, the fungus spores travel easily through air and show great resistance to weather changes. So, what came to be known as the American chestnut blight spread through the entire range of this species killing nearly all the trees in less than half a century.

Many species that depended on the nuts for food, from chipmunks to bears, experienced significant losses. In fact, populations of squirrels and wild turkeys crashed. Squirrels bounced back on their own, but turkeys needed human assistance. The effect traveled up the food chain. Goshawks and other predators felt the impact. Gone with the chestnut trees, although less noticed by most, were some insects that fed on this tree; probably seven species of moths became extinct.

Humans also suffered the loss grievously. Not only the nuts but the timber were valued and now they were gone. Dedicated scientists and agronomists of the Department of Agriculture fought for years to slow down or stop the march of the parasitic fungus, resorting to a variety of methods to heal the trees or to introduce pests that weakened the fungus. All were futile.

What happened to the pollinators of this species? Pollination research was almost non-existent when the trees were abundant and now that they are almost gone nobody is gathering such information. That is why I was glad to read the observations of one old enough to remember what things were like when the tree was still alive. His comments show that non-native honey bees visited the flowers in huge numbers. But, what about the native pollinators, the ones that had lived for thousands of years with the tree and its flowers?

For lack of American chestnut trees, we can use proxies, the closest relatives of the deceased, to gather some indirect information on their pollination . The flowers of species of chestnuts are strongly scented and attract numerous insect visitors, not just honey bees, but also many species of solitary bees, butterflies, flower flies, and beetles. Specialist honey producers sell a monofloral honey made from blossoms of the European chestnut, Castanea sativa. It is strong tasting and darker than other honeys. Chinese chestnut trees, Castanea mollissima, grow in some gardens and parks where I regularly go for walks. The scent of their flowers is almost overpowering in the months of May and June.  

We can assume that American chestnuts were also visited by many insects and that they were pollinated by them. They too must have suffered from the near disappearance of the species. Some of them may have been able to adapt and resort to pollen and nectar from other plants although no other trees bloom as heavily as chestnuts in late spring and early summer. The American chestnut disappearance must have been a severe blow to all of them. Perhaps some of them, too, went nearly or totally extinct. Probably we'll never know.

The struggle to bring the chestnut back from its near extinction continues. Horticulturists are resorting to a variety of approaches, from controlling the virulence of the fungus to breeding new varieties of the tree in an attempt to restore the American chestnut to its native geographic range. Some strategies look more promising than others. All require enormous effort. Let us hope that they succeed.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Of Spring Beauties and Lesser Celandines

A few spring beauties surrounded by the invasive lesser celandine


Lesser celandine along the trail where native flowers used to be
Last year I was disheartened to find that the lesser celandine, that attractive but aggressive invader, had spread over the land that once belonged to spring beauties and trout lilies. I am sorry to say that it looks like the non-native continues to make inroads.

Pachysandra, upper right corner; snow drops, bottom; spring beauties, center; lesser celandine. There are also stems of another alien, multiflora rose

Lesser celandines, with the help of snow drops and pachysandra, all of them garden escapees, have taken over the forest floor along my favorite nature trail. Later on, garlic mustard will show up in all the same places, but now it is not in sight. Snow drops were in bloom the last couple of weeks and now they are past their prime. This is another delightful but aggressive invader which brings joy to the hearts of many with its early blooms. Spring beauties struggle to survive hemmed in by all these newcomers to the land. Trout lilies face the same predicament in these areas.

A patch of lesser celandine
This spring I want to see how our native spring beauties and their pollinators are faring among the many introduced plants. So a few days ago I sat on my little stool on front of a patch of lesser celandine. It was a warm and sunny day and insects were quite active, including some gnats that enjoyed attacking my ears and forehead. During my forty minutes of observation I saw a number of little dark insects approach the patch and inspect the blooms by briskly hovering above them. Only one landed on a flower and stayed long enough for me to recognize it as an Andrena bee, the kind that would be loading her leg baskets with pollen from spring beauties if there were any around. Soon it left without attempting to gather anything from the flower. Perhaps it was just using it as a perch to pause during an exhausting and frustrating search for its favorite food.

Another patch of lesser celandine, near a stream
I continued my observations two days later. For more than an hour I walked along the trail illustrated above. I kept my eyes open for flower visitors and made frequent stops. I found only a handful of spring beauties nearly smothered by the lesser celandines. Even that very low number managed to have a few visiting bees. On the other hand, the bright yellow blossoms of lesser celandine remained neglected by anybody other than a small gnat and a beetle.

Finally, I sat for half an hour on front of another patch of lesser celandine, as on the previous time and intently looked for flower visitors. Finally a honey bee showed up and methodically worked the flowers. Let us remember that both honey bees and lesser celandines are European imports. There were no native pollinators in sight.

I should be glad that the lesser celandines don't get pollinated; but I can't. The variety brought from Europe propagates primarily by small bulbs (bulbils) with no need for pollinators. It reproduces this way only too well. Its abundance and the growing scarcity of spring beauty flowers forces the Andrena bees to travel longer and longer distances to gather pollen for their young. As a result, they can raise fewer and fewer babies each year. Both the flower and its pollinator continue to lose ground to the invaders.
A spring beauty and its pollinator, a rarer sight each year

List of articles
Beginners Guide to Pollinators and Other Flower Visitors

© Beatriz Moisset. 2012

Monday, April 11, 2011

Where have all the spring beauties gone?


We are studying the pollination of spring beauties. The main pollinator of this lovely early spring wildflower is a bee, called the spring beauty bee (naturally). It is a species of Andrena, small, black and slender. Like all other Andrena, it has characteristic hairy spots between the eyes. This pollinator may visit other spring flowers for nectar, but it is thought that it only gathers pollen from spring beauties. To learn more about this bee, its geographic distribution, populations and its role in ecosystems, a number of volunteers throughout the eastern United States are collecting data of its visits to spring beauties.

So, I started prospecting my favorite spots where I had found these little gems of the woods floor in previous years. I was frustrated to find lesser celandines instead. I kept walking the familiar trail, and the scene was always the same: extensive carpets of glossy dark green leaves and vibrant yellow flowers. Only here and there did I see a sprinkling of spring beauties, fresh leaves of trout lilies and a few other early flowering plants of the woods.
I must say that lesser celandines are really beautiful. No wonder why they were brought to this country as ornamentals! And no wonder why many garden centers sell them and gardeners buy them! The sinister side of this invasive beauty doesn’t seem to register in the minds of commercial centers and uninformed gardeners. But conservationists see something else. Lesser celandine is replacing some of the native plants, creating a cascade effect on the balance of nature. Native plants feed native pollinators and many other insects, which in turn, benefit other members of the natural community.



I turned my attention to lesser celandines: Do they get any visits by pollinators? Do they provide any services to the natural community?
I sat down for hours on a small picnic stool surrounded by blooming lesser celandines, camera in hand, ready to snap pictures of pollinators; hardly any came. I will continue to observe lesser celandines, but I fear that I already know the answer: specialist pollinators, such as the spring beauty bee or the trout lily bee are not likely to visit these invaders of forest and gardens, useless to them. I know that in their native land lesser celandines are visited by mutually adapted pollinators and that they provide food to some caterpillars (which in turn feed birds), but nobody seems to find them nutritious in this country.
Alarmingly, this plant is a very successful invader, with means to spread by bulbs and with the ability to sprout so early in the spring that it has a head start over the other plants in the forest. Thus a rent appears in the web of life. The more this successful invasive keeps spreading, the larger the rent becomes.

Update, April 28: Fortunately I have been seeing lots of spring beauties in other places. Let us hope that lesser celandines don't spread there too.

List of articles

© Beatriz Moisset. 2012