Florette, my dear,
I watched a hummingbird eat some nectar, I presume, from my roses, hostas, and toad lilies. I thought, "Hey! Where is that nectar stuff, anyway?"
So I pulled apart a toad lily and saw that there were three (I think) petals or sepals or peoples or steeples that had little buckets at the bottom. They weren't full of liquid, though.
Darling, I need to know. The world needs to know. The world didn't know it until now, but they haven't been able to find the nectar, either.
Remember the scene in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory? (I know the book was Charlie and the Chocolate Factory but they changed it for the film. It's not nearly as pretty sounding or as comfy to say in my mouth. I vote no. But it's too late.)
Remember the scene in the movie? He's singing about pure imagination and indicates that what you'll see will defy explanation. He drinks out of a daffodil. Sipping gently from the delicate flower (like me) and then drinking the last drop. It's good to the last drop.
He's drinking nectar as if it's tea! Then he eats the cup and saucer. At that point my parallel breaks down. Nevertheless, I want to know where the nectar is and why I can't drink it. I have a straw. I could get an Eppendorf pipette if I tried. And I would try.
Darling, where is it? I'm thoroughly distressed. I'm dying of nectar thirst. Oh please. Please.
Most desperately,
Dotty P.
Dear Dotty,
I'm afraid to tell you that you will have to gather many flowers to drink nectar as though it were tea. You see, your portion size expectation is a bit bigger than most flowers can accommodate. You were looking in the right place for the nectar, but alas there was probably only a tiny droplet or two of nectar to be found. Why? do you ask, well according to one of my oh-so scientific books…..
“for their assistance in plant reproduction, pollinating animals are rewarded with food – nutriments upon which flower visitors become dependent….[s]pecial glands (nectarines) at the base of the petals, pistil, and stamens exude droplets of a nutritious liquid, called nectar….[for some flowers] the nectar is clearly visible as a shiny drop in the bottom of the opened flowers….other species typically conceal the nectar at the bottom of deep, cup-shaped or trumpet-like flowers Or the food may be even more difficult to reach in the bottom of tubular, floral projections.” I could go on here in much more detail about the craziness of plants and the cunning way they conceal nectar and make the pollinators do a lot of work to get those tiny droplets of nectar – although for them the droplets may seem massive, maybe not which may be why they go from plant to plant to plant, which I guess is what you’ll have to do to quench your nectar thirst. You may get tired, but at least you’ll be helping plants reproduce!
Yours in nectar,
Florette