Chunk Didn’t Displace 856

A few days ago, bearcam viewers alerted me to an interesting interaction at Brooks Falls where 32 Chunk appeared to displace 856.

I’ve taken some time to review bearcam footage of the subordinate bear in the video above, and I don’t think he is 856. The bear looks like an adult male, based on his size and the presence of scars around his face. I don’t recognize him, but I am willing to say it is not 856. Here’s why…

856 is a large adult male with blond ears and a long neck. This year he returned with a noticeable limp and sports a shed patch on his rump.

856 will fish at several different places in the falls—the jacuzzi, in the far pool, and near the rocks in between. When he sits at the rocks, he does so in a fairly distinctive manner.

When 856 fishes the jacuzzi, he’ll often leave that spot to eat near the island, almost sitting and facing away from the cam.

In contrast to these behaviors, the bear displaced by 32 Chunk doesn’t appear to be limping (and I’ll admit that bears can heal quickly, so the limp may not be very pronounced now). Both 856 and the unidentified bear may have similar wounds or scars on their face, the ears of the bear displaced by 32 Chunk are darker. The contrast between the unidentified male bear’s front quarters and hind quarters is also more apparent than 856. His muzzle appears blockier than 856, and 856 is very unlikely to play with 89 Backpack.

bear standing in water near waterfall

This is a screen shot of the unidentified adult male who displaced by 32 Chunk.

bear standing on grass near water

856 walking on the island near Brooks Falls in July 2015.

So was this a changing of the guard at Brooks Falls? Probably not. In my opinion, 32 Chunk displaced a full grown adult male, but the subordinate bear was not 856. However, in the absence of other large males like 856 and 747, 32 Chunk may be the most dominant bear on the river. Chunk clearly asserted his dominance over the unidentified male.

Almost every year, a new and fully mature adult bear shows up at Brooks River. Bears are creatures of habit, but they also remain flexible, changing their behaviors when necessary. The unidentified male may have never visited Brooks Falls before and never encountered 32 Chunk. His life up until now is a mystery, but these events are one reason why the story of Brooks River’s bears is so fascinating. This is a constantly evolving story. It will never become static.

View more photos of 856 from 2015 and 2016.
(Thanks to bearcam fan stmango for compiling many videos for me to review.)

Hierarchy Shift

Brown bears live in a hierarchy, where dominance allows greater access to food and the most productive fishing areas. One recent interaction between bears 32 Chunk and 480 Otis represents a shift in this social order. This is a story of maturation for two bears going in opposite hierarchical directions.

The hierarchy at Brooks River allows bears to quickly assess their competitors, avoiding most physical fights and saving valuable energy. Within the hierarchy large, mature males rank highest followed by other adult males, females with cubs, single females, and finally subadult bears. While this pattern holds as a general rule, bears shift their position in the hierarchy depending on their size, strength, and overall health.

As an adult male in his early teens, 32 Chunk is well positioned to rank near the top of the hierarchy. Chunk was first identified in 2007 as a chunky subadult bear. We don’t know his exact age, but bear monitoring staff noted he appeared to be a young subadult, perhaps 3.5 or 4.5 years old at the time. Since then, he’s grown considerably and is among the largest bears at Brooks River.

small bear standing in grass

32 Chunk as a young subadult in 2007. Ten years later, he has grown to become one of the largest bears at Brooks River. (Photo courtesy of Jeanne Roy.)

In contrast, 480 Otis was a mature adult in his early teens in 2007. He was a big, walrus-shaped bear who, like today, was skilled at fishing in the jacuzzi and far pool. He was not often displaced from his preferred fishing spots.

bear in water

480 Otis in 2007. (NPS Photo)

In 2007 and 2008, a young subadult bear like Chunk wouldn’t even consider challenging a larger adult like Otis. Since then both bears have matured, but their life histories since then lead in different directions within the hierarchy. Recently, 32 Chunk demonstrated his dominance over the older 480 Otis.

When the video begins, 480 Otis is standing upstream of the falls in the middle of the river. 32 Chunk is the darker colored bear in the jacuzzi below the falls.

screen shot from video of waterfall. one bear sits below the falls and another is in the river above the falls

After Chunk notices Otis above the falls, he leaves the jacuzzi and begins to approach Otis.

screen shot from video of waterfall

480 Otis starts to move away, possibly to avoid 32 Chunk’s approach. This is one sign Otis could be subordinate to 32. The rest of the interaction leaves no doubt who is dominant, however.

screen shot from video. Dark bear approaching another bear above the waterfall.

Chunk moves through the river faster than Otis. When Chunk nears the older bear, Otis turns to face the younger competitor. They stand mostly still, yawning and assessing each other’s size.

screen shot from video. two bears standing in river above the falls.

32 Chunk then swats at 480 Otis.

screen shot from video. bear swats at another, splashing water

In the video, the bears’ ear positions aren’t easy to see, but 480’s ears seem to be held back against his head, indicating he’s somewhat defensive. Chunk’s ears, in contrast, are mostly upright and oriented forward, a sign of assertiveness and dominance in this context.

screen shot from video. two bears standing near each other in water

The interaction ends when 32 Chunk walks away with 480 Otis watching.

screen shot from video. Dark bear walking away from lighter bear

Several behavioral cues demonstrate 32 Chunk’s dominance and 480 Otis’ subordinate status in this interaction.

  • 32 directly approached 480.
  • 480 attempted to avoid 32.
  • 32 lunged at 480 and 480 did not attempt to engage.
  • 32’s ears were upright and forward, while 480’s ears were held slightly back against his head.
  • 32 ended the encounter, turning his back on 480 and walking away. (Dominant bears decide when an interaction ends unless they have good reason to usurp a resource such as food, a fishing spot, or access to a potential mate.)

Chunk is now entering the prime of his life where he’ll attain his greatest size and rank, and while Otis remains a large bear he’s no longer able to compete with the largest male bears for fishing spots. It seems that Chunk recognizes his size and strength and Otis recognizes the great risks of challenging a younger, larger bear. For the rest of the summer, 32 may displace 480 from fishing spots at Brooks Falls.

Chunk appears to be moving up the hierarchy while Otis continues to slide down it. With these bears, there are two tales of maturation.

When Mother Bears Collide (Again)

Last summer, 128 Grazer and 409 Beadnose found themselves face to face in defense of their cubs . Recently on bearcam, they had another dustup. This one was unique and included elements I had never observed before.

When we ask, “Why did that bear behave like that?” we should ask two additional questions.

  • Was the bear motivated by food or potential access to food?
  • Was the bear motivated by sex or reproductive success?

Biology can be distilled simplistically into two categories: food and sex. Adequate nutrition is necessary for survival of the individual, and since bears hibernate throughout much of the year they are particularly motivated by food. Reproduction also drives bears to behave in particular ways. We should also consider how each bear’s disposition influences their behavior.

128 Grazer
As a young adult bear, 128 Grazer became very skilled at fishing the lip of the falls. She’d compete for access to that spot with several other adult males and females. As a single bear (i.e. no cubs), she was fairly tolerant of other bears in close proximity. After 128 became a mother in 2016 though, her behavior became increasingly defensive. She didn’t shy away from confronting larger adult males in order to protect her cubs .

Still caring for three yearlings in 2017, she seems to be just as protective and wary as last year.

409 Beadnose
In contrast to Grazer, 409 Beadnose is an experienced mother who has weaned three litters (her current batch of yearlings is her fourth known litter). Beadnose can be defensive too, but tends to avoid confrontation more often than 128. While Grazer visited the falls with her spring cubs last summer, 409 did not. This is a clear behavioral change for Beadnose, because she visits the falls frequently when she’s not caring for cubs.

two bears standing in shallow water

128 Grazer (left) and 409 Beadnose are familiar with each other and often use the same areas to fish.

Now both of these mothers are raising yearlings, both have returned to Brooks Falls, and both tend to fish the same places (the lip or the far pool). Most importantly, both are competing for the same resources in order to successfully raise their cubs—leading to situations like this.

Can this apparent snafu be explained by a motivation for food or reproductive success? When the video begins, 409 Beadnose is ascending the hill. 128 Grazer is the blonder bear standing under the spruce tree. Grazer refuses to yield to Beadnose’s approach. The bears jaw and growl at each other, while 128’s yearlings remain in the spruce tree above their mom.

screen shot of bears beneath spruce tree

Beadnose seems compelled to get up the hill and skirts Grazer. There are other routes available, but she sticks with this one.

screen shot of brown bear on hill near spruce tree

Grazer’s cubs eventually come down from the tree while Beadnose lingers in the forest nearby. Something keeps Beadnose from moving farther away, but at this point we can’t see her.

bears standing on his near river

With 409 still on the hill, Grazer and cubs move down to the river. Shortly afterward her yearlings react to something in the same tree they had just climbed down from. Grazer begins to jaw pop, a loud and distinctive warning noise. We can see movement in the spruce tree above.

four bears standing in river near a steep embankment

It’s one of Beadnose’s cubs.

four bears standing in river. Yellow circle surrounds bear in tree. Text reads, "409 yearling"

Grazer and her yearlings scramble up the hill just 409’s yearling tries to climb down. Now we understand why Beadnose didn’t give Grazer more space previously and why Beadnose remained in the forest near spruce tree—one of her cubs was in the same tree as Grazer’s cubs! This is something I never witnessed before, cubs from two litters in the same tree at the same time.

409 is mostly out of sight as 128 and cubs run up the hill. 409’s yearling though, is unable to get out of the tree.

Two bears climbing a hill. Yellow circle highlights a bear in a spruce tree. Text reads, "409 Yearling"

A short stand-off ensues. 409’s yearling remains in the tree, 409 stands not far up the hill, and 128 Grazer and yearlings remain close by.

Screen shot of bears on hill in vegetation. Yellow circles highlight location of bears. Text reads, from top to bottom, "409 yearling" "409 Beadnose" "128 Grazer"

When 409’s cub tries to climb down again, Grazer reacts and charges to the base of the tree.

screen shot of bear standing on hill near river

Grazer then climbs the tree, forcing Beadnose’s yearling back up. About ninety seconds later, 128 has moved farther away, which allows 409’s cub to climb out of the tree and rejoin its mother.

This interaction between Grazer and Beadnose was unique because cubs from two different litters were in the same tree at the same time, greatly complicating a situation where the families could’ve avoided each other. The interaction was ordinary however, because both Beadnose’s and Grazer’s behavior seemed to be motivated by an urge to protect their cubs. Grazer’s defensiveness is easily triggered and she must’ve viewed the 409 yearling as a threat, which in my opinion led her to chase it back up the tree. Beadnose may have realized Grazer was willing to physically fight in this situation. This could’ve deterred Beadnose from standing next to the tree under her cub. At the beginning of the video, Beadnose also couldn’t get her cub out of the tree with Grazer’s cubs still in it. Stuck in a Catch-22, Beadnose seemed to choose a more cautious tactic: move slightly away and wait.

Motivation for food or reproductive success explains quite a lot in biology, but not all bear behavior can be explained so simplistically (why would a bear play with her foot? ). The prolonged interaction between these families however, does fit one of the biological motivators. This interaction probably wasn’t hierarchical; that is, it wasn’t about asserting dominance for access to food and mates. It was about protecting offspring. In other words, it was about reproduction.

Cycling North Cascades Highway

Last week, clear weather and a day off combined to allow Rocinante (yes, I name my bicycles and you should too) and I to ride the North Cascades Highway through Ross Lake National Recreation Area and Okanogan National Forest to Rainy Pass. This road, also known as Washington Route 20, is the last major highway constructed over the Cascades in Washington. It bisects one of the largest roadless areas in the Lower 48 and traverses a densely mountainous region that repeatedly confused 19th century explorers.

So many roads skirt mountains, but on this one I felt like I was truly in them. The highway, while never extremely steep, climbs considerably from Seattle City Light’s company town of Newhalem to Rainy Pass and beyond. For someone who is easily distracted by scenery, wildlife, and plants though, it also offers many excuses to slow the pace of travel. Just east of Newhalem, for example, lies the remnants of the Skagit River gorge.

narrow mountain valley

The Skagit River gorge

Beginning in the 1920s, the Seattle City Light harvested the energy of the Skagit in a series of dams. Collectively, these dams provide twenty percent of Seattle’s electricity.

mountain valley with dam and lake

Gorge Dam is the first of three hydroelectric dams on the Skagit River. Skagit gorge runs empty almost always because the river’s water is diverted from Gorge Dam through a tunnel to a powerhouse in Newhalem.

Before these dams were constructed, no road penetrated this section of Cascades. Miners and homesteaders had to navigate the gorge’s cliffs along a precarious “Goat Trail” above the raging river. My journey via bicycle was a bit easier than the Goat Trail despite the elevation gain. The road climbs up and down through the gorge then ascends again before skirting the southern shore of Diablo Lake, the second reservoir on the Skagit. This stretch of road combined with the continued climb above Ross Lake, in my opinion, is the toughest section for cyclists along the highway.

view of mountains and lake

Diablo Lake is deep in the heart of the North Cascades. Its aquamarine color is the product of glacial flour backscattering blue and green wavelengths of light.]

view of mountains and lake with coniferous trees in foreground

Ross Lake is the highest and largest reservoir in the Skagit watershed.

Even though Diablo and Ross lakes’ water flow west into Skagit River and Puget Sound, the reservoirs lie east of the Cascade crest. Here, a drier forest grows compared to the wetter lowlands downstream of Newhalem. The contrast is especially apparent on sunny slopes where snow doesn’t linger in spring. Douglas-firs and lodgepole pines tolerate these conditions well. At lower elevations along southern Ross Lake, pockets of ponderosa pines, a species much more common on warmer drier soils to the east, also linger.

Above Ross Lake, the road grade lessens easing the burden on my legs and lungs. Sight lines and road shoulder widths increased too, making the highway safer for bicycles. With increased elevation, the forest composition shifted to include some western white pine then lots of mountain hemlock and subalpine fir. With a moderate tailwind, I could pedal uphill and still enjoy views of the montane forest and craggy, snow-covered mountains bordering each side of the highway.

view of mountain peak and conifer treesAfter 35 miles of cycling and over 5,000 feet of cumulative elevation gain, I ate lunch at Rainy Pass (el. 4,855 feet). Fifty-three weeks ago, I cycled over this pass as part of a larger bicycle trip around the North Cascades area. That day was chilly and wet. I encountered frosty conditions and fresh snow from the previous night.

montane forest with light snow at higher elevation

Forest at Rainy Pass on June 14, 2016. Note the light snow on the trees.

On this ride however, I needed only a light windbreaker.

view of road surrounded by coniferous trees and mountain in background

Rainy Pass on June 21, 2017.

The North Cascades Highway is also part of Adventure Cycling’s Northern Tier route. I knew I’d see touring cyclists pushing to the pass and beyond and I knew they’d be hungry so I brought candy bars to give away to those out for the long haul. When I rode across the country on my bike in 2004, there were many days where I felt like I couldn’t eat enough and many people offered food, a lawn to camp on, or even a room in their home. My free chocolate was a very small attempt to reciprocate a bit of that generosity.

A little surprisingly, almost all the touring cyclists I encountered before Rainy Pass kindly rejected my offer of empty calories. If they were creeped out by a stranger peddling candy, then they hid their concerns well. (Maybe my approach was a little off—“Hey, want some candy bars?” said the weirdo who approached you on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.) More likely though, my offer came too early in the day when energy from breakfast still lingered. At Rainy Pass, the same cyclists gladly accepted the treats.

I spoke with cyclists from Germany, Great Britain, and a group from Massachusetts raising awareness of epilepsy.

Charlie's group at Rainy Pass_06212017

Clif Read (center) and some of his riding companions pause at Rainy Pass on their tour to raise awareness of epilepsy. Follow their journey at c2c4charlie.org/.

As unprepared as I was, carrying little more than a windbreaker and some peanuts, I felt an urge to continue my ride, joining the others heading east toward the Atlantic Ocean. I suppressed that travel bug though and let the long-distance cyclists continued on their way while I turned back west to enjoy the mostly downhill ride into the Skagit Valley.

 

 

Bear Courtship

Bearcam is back! While brown bears fishing at Brooks Falls are the cam’s main attraction, bears also engage in another important event—courtship. Bears make new cubs at this time of year.

Courtship is a conspicuous part of bear life in spring and early summer. Sometimes a male bear encounters a female bear at the right time and they copulate immediately, but more often bear courtship is a prolonged affair. From an ursine perspective, courtship is a process in which a male follows a female in estrus, habituating her to his presence until she is ready to mate.

large bear (right) follows smaller bear through grass

A large adult male, 856 (right), follows 708 Amelia while she was in estrus in 2013.

Courting pairs are easy to recognize by the male’s conspicuous and persistent behavior. A male bear recognizes an estrous female by her scent. He then walks behind her, shadowing her movements like he has a laser sight affixed to her rump (hormonally, the simile may not be far from the truth). However, bear courtship contains neither romance nor effort from the male to attract the female. He’s simply biding his time.

Copulation takes place only when the female is ready, which may not be for days. (The longest courtship I ever noted at Brooks River was 10 days.) It’s certainly not uncommon to see a male following a female for hours and hours.

Over those hours and days, the male follows her, guarding his access for the opportunity to mate. If another male of equal or greater dominance catches the female’s scent, then the two males may engage in a violent fight. Male testosterone levels peak, not coincidentally, in June as well. In late spring and early summer, fresh wounds on dominant adult males may be battle scars from a fight for access to a female bear. Bigger can be better in the bear world.

large bear with wound on cheek sitting in water

In June 2015, 814 Lurch returned to Brooks Falls missing an ear and with a large wound in his right cheek. These wounds could have been received during a fight with another male over access to a female.]

The victor continues his slow pursuit until the female decides the time is right. Outside of the mating season, male bears pose real threats to smaller females (sometimes, albeit very rarely, killing them) so the close, persistent proximity of a large male must be alarming at first. Eventually, hormones and habituation to the male overcome her initial trepidation.

Even then, the female may not be ready.

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Copulation lasts upwards of twenty minutes. Brown bear females are promiscuous and may mate with more than one male. Her estrus cycle isn’t a single event. She can have several over the mating season, which generally runs May through July. Female black bears may be induced ovulators, so brown bears could be too, and while no evidence of multiple paternities has yet been confirmed at Brooks River, a single litter of cubs could have multiple fathers.

mating bears

218 Ugly mates with 402 at Brooks Falls in 2010.

If mating is successful, the fertilized egg divides only a few times before entering a state of arrested development in the mother’s uterus. Only after she enters the den in the fall will the blastocyst begin to grow again. Through this delayed implantation, female bears can focus the rest of their summer efforts gaining enough fat reserves to survive hibernation. This allows cubs to be born in mid-winter when they are most protected in their mother’s den.

Over the next few weeks on bearcam, watch for male bears to doggedly follow single females. This is the most conspicuous sign of bear courtship, a season is marked by competition, conflict, persistence, and the promise of another generation of bears at Brooks River.

Someone’s eating the berries

In low elevation areas at the foot of the North Cascades, salmonberries are quickly ripening and I have plenty of competition in the race to harvest them.

ripe salmonberrySalmonberries (Rubus spectabilis) are moderately tall shrubs with compound leaves and bright magenta flowers. The flowers later produce large, raspberry-like fruit in various shades of yellow, orange, or scarlet. According to Cascade-Olympic Natural History, the plant’s common name derives from the fruit’s ability to cut the greasiness or fishiness of salmon, not from their color. Like many sugary, wild fruits, they are relished by more than humans. Recently, other critters have beaten me to the choicest berries.

stem of plant missing its fruit

Increasingly often, I find salmonberry shrubs stripped of their ripe berries.

 

Bears, of course, will eat salmonberries, but most of the berries I’ve seen have been plucked a bit too delicately to be the work of a bear. Bright red or yellow berries aren’t just an advertisement for mammals. They attract birds as well. Cedar waxwings, in particular, are pronounced frugivores and I recently watched a few in the act of stripping a salmonberry shrub clean.

I’ll gladly yield the fruit to these birds, since they’re doing the legwork (or is it wing-work?) to disperse the seeds. In the waxwing’s digestive tract, the seeds are carried far and wide, and if the seed is extremely lucky the bird will deposit it in a moist, sunny spot with rich soil.

More than waxwings influence this plant’s reproduction, however. Earlier this spring, I watched many rufous hummingbirds visit its large magenta flowers.

magenta colored flower with five petals

The salmonberry flower.

Salmonberry blooms relatively early in the spring (I found it in full bloom in mid April this year), a time when few other hummingbird flowers are present. Salmonberry plants aren’t exclusively pollinated by hummingbirds, but I watched hummingbirds frequently visit more than one patch of salmonberry blossoms this spring, so it may be an important early source of nectar for them.

In blossom and in fruit, salmonberry is tied to birds. Have you noticed similar connections in your local ecosystem?

Deer Fawn

mother deer and fawn

Within and along the foothills of the western Cascades, black-tail deer have dropped their fawns. Once in a while, I’m lucky enough to see one.

Cute right? I often see deer, but I rarely see fawns. There’s a good reason for that.

Deer fawns are very small and vulnerable. Unable to outrun predators, they utilize a simple and effective defense—lie down and remain still until the coast is clear. In this manner, the newborn deer can be so cryptic and their scent so faint they often avoid detection.

No defense in nature is foolproof, however. Fawns can be an important food source for bears, coyotes, and bobcats. In this evolutionary arms race, camouflage and stealth is counteracted by a keen sense of smell, skill, and sometimes luck.

If you are lucky enough to stumble upon a deer fawn, please leave it be. The fawn may have laid down because you approached, but mothers sometimes hide their fawns in brush, returning periodically to nurse. Most likely, the fawn you just found is not abandoned or orphaned. Mother is nearby and when you leave, the doe will return.

 

Flower, You Stink

Throughout much of temperate North America, late spring and early summer is a wonderful time to enjoy wildflowers. I like looking at plants for many reasons, but recently I’ve begun to think more carefully about their smell. I’ve been sniffing plenty of flowers lately, and not all are pleasant.

Most flowers that we notice need a pollinator, but pollinators aren’t volunteering their services. They seek a reward for the effort to help the plant complete its reproductive cycle. Most of the time, the reward comes in the form of pollen or nectar or both (although there are some amazing examples of plants deceiving their pollinators). Other than visual cues, scent is one noticeable way flowers advertise their wares. Ever smell a wild rose, for example? They are sweetly fragrant, even from a few meters away, and are popular with bees and butterflies, who seek out their pollen and nectar and pollinate the plant in the process.

two rose flowers with pink petals

Rosa nutkana, the Nootka rose.

I’ve sampled the perfumes of many plants recently, giving me a tangible way to understand their different reproductive strategies. The scent of flowers, not surprisingly, ranges from non-existent to downright stinky.

Lupine, another plant popular with butterflies and bumblebees, is very odorous, smelling sweetly florid and very noticeable while walking through a meadow. The same goes for snowbrush ceanothus (Ceanothus velutinus), whose flowers attract a wide variety of insects.

cluster of white ceanothus flowers at the end of a twig

Ceanothus velutinus, commonly called snowbrush ceanothus.

Hawthorns (Crataegus sp.) and black cherry (Prunus serotina) are faintly malodorous, at least to my nose. Consequently, they attract a different suite of pollinators than roses even though they are in the same family (Rosaceae). Bees visit these plants but so do lots of flies.

flowers, Prunus serotina, Moraine State Park_05182017To increase the skink level another notch, take a whiff of mountain-ash (Sorbus sp.) or yarrow (Achillea millifolium). Mountain-ash and yarrow are in different plant families, Roseaceae and Asteraceae respectively, but they share one trait: their flowers smell like shit.

flowers, Sorbus scopulina

The first time I discovered the scent of mountain-ash, I thought I had stepped on a dog turd.

fly on cluster of white flowers

Yarrow is surprisingly stinky, which would explain why flies that you’d find on scat also visit this plant’s flowers.

Why smell like animal scat? Not all insects seek the same odors. Many species of flies, as we know, are attracted to carrion or scat. Flowers that mimic these odors are often seeking pollination from flies. From the plant’s perspective, it doesn’t matter what insect provides the pollination as long as the work of pollination gets done.

There’s sweet, there’s stinky, and then there’s unscented. I couldn’t detect the any scent from wild ginger (Asarum caudatum) flowers, but the plant was very odorous and smelled, well, like ginger. Its flowers hide on the ground, but this plant may be self-pollinated more often than not.

maroon colored flower among fallen leaves

Asarum caudatum, wild ginger, flowers hide on the forest floor.

Orange honeysuckle (Lonicera ciliosa), from my limited observations, is pollinated exclusively by hummingbirds. The bright red-orange flowers are striking and easy to see, but have no scent, at least none that I could discern. Hummingbirds have little to no sense of smell. If your flowers, like the wild ginger’s, are mostly self pollinated or your pollinators can’t smell you, then there’s no need to expend energy producing scent.

When we walk into or even near a floral shop, the air smells strongly of perfume, an odor most of us would describe as florid. In nature though, the perfume of flowers is extremely varied. They smell fruity, sugary, stinky, rotten, inodorous, and everything in between. Flowers, in my opinion, are nature’s most conspicuous display of sex and scent is a technique plants use to get what they need—pollination—to reproduce.