Several native plants in my yard blooming in July have orange blossoms. These include the butterfly milkweed, the Michigan lily, with its lighter orange down-curved petals, and the trumpet vine, with tubular blossoms emanating from a trellis.
These blooms are special. Out of the more than 3,000 native plants in Illinois, only 57 have orange flowers, according to state botanist Paul Marcum.
This color spectrum in nature likely has to do with the evolution of Midwestern prairies and their pollinators. When Illinois was dominated by native prairies, yellow-colored flowers particularly attracted bees and beetles in early spring, perhaps compensating for the lower amount of light.
Golden alexanders are early spring bloomers that beckon to bees. Then in late summer, compass plant and goldenrods fill the prairies with yellows to keep the bees well fed before winter arrives.
White is another common color for native plant blossoms. For example, there’s wild quinine in early summer and Indian plantain later on, both with white flowers. Bees are attracted to white blooms as well as purples and blues.
Red attracts hummingbirds and butterflies, but bees and other insects can’t see red well. Because orange is closely related to red, bees often don’t approach these blossoms either.
That doesn’t mean you’ll never see a bee visiting a red or orange flower. Bees, butterflies and other wildlife creatures see colors differently from humans. Butterflies and bees see many hues in the ultraviolet spectrum, which we cannot discern. Some orange or red flowers have thin lines of ultraviolet colors that look to bees like an airplane runway leading to the nectar source.
A recent study showed that red flower species didn’t necessarily evolve to attract hummingbirds, but to deter bees, which will visit another flower, leaving the red ones available to the hummers. Why flowers are certain colors continues to be another one of nature’s complexities.
The most iconic orange wildflower in Illinois is the butterfly milkweed, a host plant for monarch butterflies, which lay their eggs on the plant that hatch into caterpillars. After a lot of munching, the caterpillars turn into a chrysalis and later emerge as an adult.
You can find butterfly milkweed in prairies, but they are easy to grow in gardens. I have three different patches of them, and depending on the dominant pigments in the flowers, they may look light orange to dark orange to dark red.
You may see lots of orange flowers along Illinois roadsides, but these are likely introduced day lilies that can become invasive. I don’t often see pollinators visiting the day lilies, and I confess, I’ve dug out a lot of orange day lilies in my garden to be replaced with the butterfly milkweed and other native plants. But botanist Paul Marcum has set me straight – these day lilies do provide food for hungry pollinators. So I will try to love them even though I prefer different orange-hued blossoms like the trumpet creeper.
It grows prolifically up a trellis, and ruby-throated hummingbirds hover above the blooms to harvest the sweetness. The flowers also attract ants, flies, sphinx moths, and a small number of bees. I peered into the corolla the other day and saw two tiny ants walking around inside. In addition, the migratory Tennessee warbler pierces its bill into the flower to release sweet nectar.
A caution to humans: the trumpet vine can be toxic, and rubbing its leaves could cause a rash, so stand back to watch wildlife visiting its blooms.
One rare orange wildflower that requires a specific habitat is the orange-fringed orchid. The closest place I know of to find it is near Kankakee. We went searching for this species and found a stand of dozens of bright orange orchids, with their frilly fringes.
These orchids attract eastern tiger swallowtail butterflies, which have a long proboscis needed to reach deep into the nectar. Hummingbird moths, which look like tiny hummingbirds, as well as white-lined sphinx moths, also sip nectar from the orange-fringed orchids.
This colorful outdoor banquet reveals many more hues to insects and birds than we can see, reminding us that nature is much more than what meets the eye.
Sheryl DeVore has worked as a full-time and freelance reporter, editor and photographer for the Chicago Tribune and its subsidiaries. She’s the author of several books on nature and the environment and co-author of a coming book on “Birds of the Midwest,” to be published by Timber Press. Send story ideas and thoughts to sheryldevorewriter@gmail.com.
