How a cactus from the Andes may be using hairs to attract its bat pollinators

Plants go to great lengths to attract pollinators. From brightly colored flowers to alluring scents and even some sexual deception, there seems to be no end to what plants will do for sex. Recently, research on the pollination of a species of cactus endemic to the Ecuadorian Andes suggests that even plant hairs can be co-opted for pollinator attraction.

Espostoa frutescens is a wonderful columnar cactus that grows from 1,600 ft (487 m) to 6,600 ft (2011 m) in the Ecuadorean Andes. Like many other high elevation cacti, this species is covered in a dense layer of hairy trichomes. These hairs serve an important function in these mountains by protecting the body of the plant from excessive heat, cold, wind, and UV radiation. Espostoa frutescens takes this a step further when it comes time to flower. It is one of those species that produces a dense layer of hairs around its floral buds called a cephalium. Cacti cephalia are thought to have evolved as a means of protecting developing flowers and fruits from the outside elements. What scientists have now discovered is that, at least for some cacti, the cephalium may also serve an important role in attracting bats.

Bats are famous for their use of echolocation. Because they mainly fly at night, bats rely on sound and scent, rather than sight to find food. More and more we are realizing that a lot of plants have taken advantage of this by producing structures that reflect bat sonar in such a way that makes them more appealing to bats. Some plants, like Mucuna holtonii and Marcgravia evenia, do this for pollination. Others, like Nepenthes hemsleyana, do this to obtain a nitrogen-rich meal.

Espostoa frutescens apparently differs from these examples in that its not about reflecting bat sonar, but rather absorbing it at specific frequencies. Close examination of the hairs that comprise the E. frutescens cephalium revealed that they were extremely well adapted for absorbing ultrasonic frequencies in the 90 kHz range. This may seem arbitrary until you look at who exactly pollinates this cactus.

The main pollinator for E. frutescens is a species of bat known as Geoffroy’s tailless bat (Anoura geoffroyi). It turns out that Geoffroy’s tailless bat happens to echolocate at a frequencies right around that 90 kHz range. Whereas the rest of the body of the cactus reflects plenty of sound, bat calls reaching the cephalium of E. frutescens bounced back an average of 14 decibels quieter.

Essentially, the area of floral reward on this species of cactus presents a much quieter surface than the rest of the plant itself. It is very possible that this functions as a sort of calling card for Geoffroy’s tailless bats looking for their next meal. This makes sense from a communication standpoint in that it not only saves the bats valuable foraging time, it also increases the chances of cross pollination for the cactus. To obtain enough energy from flowers, bats must travel great distances. Anything that helps them locate a meal faster will increase visitation to that flower. By changing the way in which the flowers “appear” to echolocating bats, the cacti thus increase the amount of visitation from bats, which brings pollen in from cacti located over the bats feeding range.

It is important to note that, at this point in time, research has only been able to demonstrate that the hairs surrounding E. frutescens flowers are more absorbent to the ultrasonic frequencies used by Geoffroy’s tailless bat. We still have no idea whether bats are more likely to visit flowers borne from cephalia or not. Still, this research paves the way for even more experiments on how plants like E. frutescens may be “communicating” with pollinators like bats.

Photo by Merlin Tuttle’s Bat Conservation. Please Consider supporting this incredible conservation group!

Further Reading: [1]

The Grafted Cactus Origin Story

Photo by Dr. Hans-Günter Wagner licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0

Photo by Dr. Hans-Günter Wagner licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0

Many of you have undoubtedly met this interesting cactus before. Some  of you probably own one. Commonly referred to as 'Hibotan' or "moon  cactus," these are not a single species cactus but rather two different  cacti that have been grafted together.

The colorful top part is known scientifically as  Gymnocalycium mihanovichii. It is endemic to Paraguay and some provinces  of Argentina. In the wild it is not nearly this colorful. The specimens  sold in garden shops all over the world are actually mutant varieties that do not produce chlorophyll, thus revealing other pigments that are normally masked by green. The color of these mutants can range from  yellows to reds and even deep purples. Without chlorophyll, these mutants would normally die as seedlings.

The wild version of Gymnocalycium mihanovichii is a lot less coloreful. Photo by Petar43 licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0

The wild version of Gymnocalycium mihanovichii is a lot less coloreful. Photo by Petar43 licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0

Provided their host cactus is kept happy, mutant Gymnocalycium mihanovichii will flower. Photo by Mike Keeling licensed under CC BY-ND 2.0

Provided their host cactus is kept happy, mutant Gymnocalycium mihanovichii will flower. Photo by Mike Keeling licensed under CC BY-ND 2.0

At some point in time, someone got it in their head that they could graft these colorful mutants onto other species of cacti and perhaps they would survive. This is exactly what has happened. Interestingly enough, the bottom host cactus isn't even in the same genus as the moon cactus. Grafting is most often done on a species of Hylocereus (the same genus responsible for dragon fruit). How and why this host was chosen I do not know. Either way, armed with this knowledge, I hope you have gained a new found appreciation for these seemingly ubiquitous house plants.

Photo by Steve Rapport licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Photo by Steve Rapport licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Photo Credits: [1] [2] [3] [4]

Further Reading: [1]

Big Things Come In Small Packages

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Meet Blossfeldia liliputana, the smallest species of cactus in the world. With a maximum diameter of only 12 mm, this wonderful succulent would be hard to spot tucked in among the nooks and crannies of rock outcrops. Its species name "liliputana" is a reference to the fictional island of Liliput (Gulliver's Travels) whose inhabitants were said to be rather small. If its size alone wasn't interesting in and of itself, the biology of B. liliputana is also downright bizarre.

Blossfeldia liliputana is native to arid regions between southern Bolivia and northern Argentina. It appears to prefer growing wedged between cracks in rock as these are usually the spots where just enough soil builds up to put down its roots. Root formation, however, does not happen for quite some time. Most often new individuals bud off from the parent plant. They emerge not from the base, but rather from apical tissues, yet another unique feature of this cactus. What's more, this cactus produces no spines. Instead, its numerous areoles are covered in a dense layer of trichomes that are felt-like to the touch.

As you can clearly see, this species is small. It only ever becomes conspicuous when it comes time to flower. Imagine a bunch of tiny white to pink cactus flowers poking out of a crevice. It must be a remarkable sight to see in person. Despite their showy appearance, its is believed that most are self-fertilized.

Photo by Mats Winberg licensed under CC BY-SA 2.5

Photo by Mats Winberg licensed under CC BY-SA 2.5

As mentioned, the size of this cactus isn't the only interesting thing about its biology. B. liliputana is categorized as a poikilohydric organism, meaning it doesn't have the ability to regulate its internal water content. Researchers have found that individual plants can lose up to 80% of their weight in water and can maintain that state for as long as two years without any negative effects. As such, colonies of these tiny cacti often appear shrunken or squished. Once the rains arrive, however, it springs back to its original rounded shape with seemingly no issues. Amazingly, a significant amount of water uptake happens via the fuzzy areoles that cover its surface, hence it does not harm the plant to hold off growing roots for quite some time. 

Speaking of water regulation, B. liliputana holds another record for having the lowest density of stomata of any terrestrial autotrophic vascular plant. Stomata are the pores in which plants regulate water and gas exchange so having so few may have something to do with why this species loses and gains water to such a degree that would kill most other vascular plant species.

Another peculiar quality of this cactus are its seeds. Unlike all other cacti whose seeds are hard and relatively smooth, the seeds of B. liliputana are hairy. Attached to each seed is a small fleshy structure called an aril, which aids in seed dispersal. As it turns out, B. liliputana relies on ants as its main seed dispersers. Ants attracted to the fleshy aril drag the seeds back to their nests, remove and eat the aril, and then discard the seed. This is often good news for the cactus because its seeds end up in nutrient-rich ant middens protected from both the elements and seed predators, often in much more suitable conditions for germination.

Photo by Michael Wolf licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0

Photo by Michael Wolf licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0

Needless to say, B. liliputana is a bit of an oddball as far as cacti are concerned. Its highly derived features coupled with its bizarre biology have made it difficult for taxonomists to elucidate its relationship to the rest of the cactus family. It certainly deserves its own genus, to which it is the only member, however, it has been added to and removed form a handful of cactus subfamilies over the years. The most recent genetic analyses suggests that it is unique enough to warrant its own tribe within Cactaceae - Blossfeldieae.

Photo Credits: [1] [2] [3] [4]

Further Reading: [1] [2] [3]

The Pima Pineapple Cactus

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The Pima pineapple cactus (Coryphantha robustispina) is a federally endangered cactus native to the Sonoran Desert. It is a relatively small cactus by most standards, a fact that can make it hard to find even with a trained eye. Sadly, the plight of this cactus is shared by myriad other plant species of this arid region. Urbanization, fire, grazing, and illegal collection are an ever present threat thanks to our insatiable need to gobble up habitat we should never have occupied in the first place. 

Deserts are lands of extremes and the Pima pineapple cactus seems ready for whatever its habitat can throw its way (naturally). Plants are usually found growing individually but older specimens can take on a clustered clonal habit. During the winter months, the Pima pineapple cactus shrivels up and waits until warmth returns. Come spring, the Pima pineapple cactus begins anew. On mature specimens, flower buds begin to develop once the plant senses an increase in daylight. 

Photo by Johnida Dockens licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Photo by Johnida Dockens licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

The flower buds continue to develop well into summer but seem to stop after a certain point. Then, with the onset of the summer monsoons, flower buds quickly mature and open all at once. It is thought that this evolved as a means of synchronizing reproductive events among widely spaced populations. You see, seed set in this species is best achieved via cross pollination. With such low numbers and a lot of empty space in between, these cacti must maximize the chances of cross pollination.

If they were to flower asynchronously, the chances of an insect finding its way to two different individuals is low. By flowering together in unison, the chances of cross pollination are greatly increased. No one is quite sure exactly how these cacti manage to coordinate these mass flowering events but one line of reasoning suggests that the onset of the monsoon has something to do with it. It is possible that as plants start to take up much needed water, this triggers the dormant flower buds to kick into high gear and finish their development. More work is needed to say for sure.

Seed dispersal for this species comes in the form of a species of hare called the antelope jackrabbit. Jackrabbits consume Pima fruits and disperse them across the landscape as they hop around. However, seed dispersal is just one part of the reproductive process. In order to germinate and survive, Pima pineapple cacti seeds need to end up in the right kind of habitat. Research has shown that the highest germination and survival rates occur only when there is enough water around to fuel those early months of growth. As such, years of drought can mean years of no reproduction for the Pima.

Taken together, it is no wonder then why the Pima pineapple cactus is in such bad shape. Populations can take years to recover if they even manage to at all. Sadly, humans have altered their habitat to such a degree that serious action will be needed to bring this species back from the brink of extinction. Aside from the usual suspects like habitat fragmentation and destruction, invasive species are playing a considerable role in the loss of Pima populations. 

Lehmann lovegrass (Eragrostis lehmanniana) was introduced to Arizona in the 1930's and it has since spread to cover huge swaths of land. What is most troubling about this grass is that it has significantly altered the fire regime of these desert ecosystems. Whereas there was once very little fuel for fires to burn through, dense stands of Lehmann lovegrass now offer plenty of stuff to burn. Huge, destructive fires can spread across the landscape and the native desert vegetation simply cannot handle the heat. Countless plants are killed by these burns.

Sometimes, if they are lucky, large cacti can resprout following a severe burn, however, all too often they do not. Entire populations can be killed by a single fire. What few plants remain are frequent targets of poaching. Cacti are quite a hit in the plant trade and sadly people will pay big money for rare specimens. The endangered status of the Pima pineapple cactus makes it a prized target for greedy collectors. 

The future of the Pima pineapple cactus is decidedly uncertain. Thankfully its placement on the endangered species list has afforded it a bit more attention from a conservation standpoint. Still, we know very little about this plant and more data are going to be needed if we are to develop sound conservation measures. This, my friends, is why land conservation is so important. Plants like the Pima pineapple cactus need places to grow. If we do not work harder on setting aside wild spaces, we will lose so much more than this species. 

Photo Credits: [1] [2] [3]

Further Reading: [1] [2] [3]

In the Wake of Volcanoes

Photo by Geir K. Edland licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Photo by Geir K. Edland licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Recruitment windows are any period of time in which seeds germinate and grow into young plants successfully. Needless to say, they are a crucial component of of any plants' life cycle. For some species, these windows are huge, allowing them ample opportunity for successful reproduction. For others, however, these windows are small and specific. Take for instance the saguaro cactus (Carnegiea gigantea) of the American southwest. These arborescent cacti are famous the world over for their impressive stature. They are true survivors, magnificently adapted to their harsh, dry environment. This does not mean life is a cakewalk though. Survival, especially for seedlings, is measured by the slimmest of margins, with most saguaro dying in their first year. 

Hot, dry days and freezing cold nights are not particularly favorable conditions for young cacti. As such, any favorable change in weather can lead to much higher rates of successful recruitment for a given year. Because of this, saguaro often grow up as cohorts that all took advantage of the same favorable conditions that tipped the odds in their favor. This creates an age pattern that researchers can then use to better understand the population dynamics of these cacti. 

Recently, a researcher from York University noticed a particular pattern in the cacti she was studying. A large amount of the older cacti all dated back to the year 1884. What was so special about 1884, you ask? Certainly the climate must have been favorable. However, the real interesting part of this story is what happen the year before. 1883 saw the eruption of Krakatoa, a volcanic island located between Java and Sumatra. The eruption was massive, spewing tons of volcanic ash into the air. Effectively destroying the island, the eruption was so large that it was heard 1,930 miles away in western Australia. 

The effects of the Krakatoa eruption were felt worldwide. Ash and other gases spewed into the atmosphere caused a chilling of the northern hemisphere. Records of that time show an overall cooling effect of more than 2 degrees Fahrenheit. In the American Southwest, this led to record rainfall from July 1883 to June 1884. The combination of higher than average rainfall and lower than average temperatures made for a banner year for saguaro cacti. Seedlings were able to get past that first year bottleneck. After that first year, saguaro are much more likely to survive the hardships of their habitat. 

The Krakatoa eruption wasn't the only one with its own saguaro cohort. Further investigations have revealed similar patterns following the eruptions of Soufriere, Mt. Pelée, and Santa Maria in 1902, Ksudach in 1907, and Katmai in 1912. What this means is that conservation of species like the saguaro must take into account factors far beyond their immediate environment. Such patterns are likely not unique to saguaro either. The Earth functions as a biosphere and the lines we use to define the world around us can become quite blurry. If anything, this research underlines the importance of a system-based view. Nothing operates in a vacuum. 

Photo Credit: Geir K. Edland

Further Reading: [1] [2]