CALLING ALL POLLINATOR HATERS

Do you grasp the miracle that is your own personal pastoral view? If you are fortunate enough to survey any conceivable combination of flora and greenery from your comfort of your window, does it fill you with a sense of reverence? Has the feast for your eyes rendered you a can't-get-enough, card-carrying-member of your own personal botanical buffet society? While it may seem sensible to attribute the scenic eye candy of our waking moments to Mother Nature's unparalleled, artistic well of skill, there are infinite unsung heroes that should rightfully credited for their supporting roles.

Consider, for a moment, the diligent little pollinators buzzing around our gardens and the far-reaching landscape of our environment. As a prismatic spectrum of birds, butterflies and insects clock in extended hours busily sampling and collecting pollen from our backyard blooms, their frequent floral layovers trigger the serendipitous yet successful proliferation of myriad botanical species.

As with so many things in nature, the simple act of self-preservation is a life-yielding force, but can you imagine for a moment what might happen without their hard work? Is it possible that we might wake up each morning to a withered, monochromatic sea of weedy terrain? We all have different perspectives, which it why it is understandable that not everyone is game to jump on the cheery, rah-rah-pollinator bandwagon.

America generally detests insects, especially when they fly into our immediate air space with their buzzy-little-wings flapping faster than the speed of light. They give us the heebie-jeebies and cause us to high-tail it to the closest Home Depot where we can select from among 166 animal and pest control products to serve all of our insect decimation needs (with intimidating names like the Stinger Ultra Zapper Insect Killer and Termination Success Killing Sticks).

Apparently, our unflappable resolve (to get the job done) comes in handy when we must fork over a sizable chunk of change for the tools of our trade. How does one cross over into pollinator-hater territory, however? We all know that wasps and bees sting to defend themselves or their colony, but as long as we stay out of their way and allow them to conduct business as usual, everyone is generally fine and dandy.

Unfortunately, there are occasional exceptions to the rule. There's "Bud," who generally thinks that butterflies are okay since his twin daughters dig ‘em, but ever since a random bee stung his Buddha belly while taking his 2001 Harley-Davidson Heritage Softail out for a spin, he has armed his home with a cavalcade of bee, wasp and yellow jacket traps.

Simone has followed suit because that's what all of her neighbors do (even though she knows how essential they are to the environment). Xavier slices all caterpillars that cross his path in half with a twig since that's what his older brother taught him to do, while Larry torches butterfly pupae with his Bic lighter since his shrieking-wife finds them "disgusting". Ever since Julie's grandfather was the unfortunate recipient of a full-throttle-body-assault of angry wasps when he inadvertently disturbed their well-camouflaged nest, she hires the Orkin man to spray the perimeter of her property twice each year.

So much of what we do to arm and protect ourselves against the creepy-crawly forces of nature is utterly unnecessary and quite often a force of habit that we cannot even explain. We simply DO IT because... "What's the big deal?? They reproduce by the bazillions!!" "I don't want to run the risk of getting stung!" "I'm allergic to bugs!" "Let ‘em fly around someone else's house!" "I dine on my patio throughout the summer and I'm sick of them dive-bombing my umbrella drinks!" "I don't care if they pollinate my flowers...I buy mature blooms from Costco." "Ahhhh, bugs just creep me out!!!"

At what cost is our apathy? Currently, North American bees are suffering the catastrophic effects of Colony Collapse Disorder, in which they are largely disappearing from our landscape thanks to such far-ranging factors as pesticide use, electromagnetic radiation, and immunodeficiencies, to name but a few of scientist's hypotheses. The scientific community is perplexed and in a state of panic based on the long-reaching consequences that this phenomenon will likely have on our food crops, considering that they are the reason why 1/3 of America's crop species reach fruition.

Interestingly, a lesser-known pollinator, the humble brown Northeastern Bat, is currently in the trenches of its own struggle for survival. Biologists suggest that more than a half million bats have died from White Nose Syndrome during the past 2008 winter season and they are bracing themselves for wave two. What makes these odd little nocturnal creatures so beneficial to our ecosystem is the fact that they dine on the precise insects that have a penchant for plowing destructively through our food crops and spreading disease. In essence, bats are nature's most reliable pesticide, and yet it seems that they are getting tangled up in the web of our chemical-wielding-ways.

Birds are hardly faring any better. In the past year alone, experts have noted an unprecedented and alarming number of broad-bird-species deaths across the globe which they feel are a reflection on toxic environmental factors. Everything from extreme weather to pesticides to pollutants has raised red flags, and yet scientists cannot seem to link one specific factor as the main cause of their demise. How reminiscent of the honeybee paradox. Do we really need any more evidence that humanity is screwing up on a royal level?

Enough is enough. There IS something that we can do, and it begins in our own backyard. How about laying off of the chemicals and traps, for starters? We would all do well to respect the noble business that our feathered, winged and multi-legged neighbors engage in, and perhaps even make a concerted effort to temper whatever fear factor or gag-reflex compels us to destroy every unexpected visitor within our midst.

No one really needs to decorate the entire perimeter of their homestead with multiple glow-in-the-dark yellow plastic contraptions saturated with buggy pheromones. Winged pollinators have a one-track-mind...they simply want to locate as many flowers in the span of a day as they possibly can. We can help facilitate that simple motivation by stepping out of the way, ducking if necessary, and raising a glass to their magical role as grand specters of the universe.

http://agricultureguide.org/calling-all-pollinator-haters/