Bob Mount: Conscience wins out with sunflower secret

Janie and I bought some property in a wilderness area in eastern Lee County about 30 years ago. Only a few people, who, like I, are wilderness enthusiasts, are permitted to access the property. The nearest human residence is at least four miles away. The land provides optimum habitat for a variety of snakes, including rattlesnakes, and I call it my “rattlesnake refugium.”

But I digress. When we bought the property, all but a 5-acre field was heavily forested. The field had not been cultivated in six or more years and supported a variety of flowering plants, the most abundant of which was a tall native sunflower, Helianthus angustifolius.

On one of the visits to the property, in late July, the sunflowers were conspicuous, but the peak of the blooming season had passed. I saw what I initially thought were numerous tiger swallow-tail butterflies flitting around the black-and-yellow sunflower blooms and maturing flower heads.

A closer inspection revealed that I was observing not butterflies but goldfinches, the strikingly colored yellow and black birds that occasionally visit bird watchers’ feeding stations. The birds I was seeing were probably migrants. Reportedly, some goldfinches overwinter in our area, but in those that do, the bright yellow plumage is lost and replaced by dull greenish feathers. The bright colors reappear during spring, but goldfinches seldom breed in these parts. The beautiful ones we see in spring are mostly passers-through.

My observation led me to suspect the aforementioned sunflower might be especially attractive to goldfinches, so I dug a few up and transplanted them around our house. Two years later they bloomed profusely, and my suspicion proved correct. The maturing seed heads on the flowers attracted the birds, just as I hoped they would.

The sunflower is a perennial, thrives in sunlit areas, and needs no water or fertilizer. I was somewhat reluctant to inform my readers about my observation, for fear that so many might plant the sunflower that fewer of the goldfinches would please me with their visits than they do now. But I thought to myself, “Withholding that information would be downright selfish, wouldn’t it?” My conscious prevailed.

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A few years ago I submitted an application to the Defense Department to do some environmental survey work at a military installation. I was told I needed a “DUNS number,” and was given a phone number to call.

I called, and “This is Dun and Bradstreet,” was the answer. I asked, “How do I get a DUNS number,” and gave the person my name and address. The reply was, “You already have one,” and they gave me the number immediately.

I asked, “How did I get the number? I’ve never applied for one before.“

“We have all the information on you we need to assign you the number.“

“How did you get all that information?”

“We have all kinds of ways we can find out about you,” was the response. Hmmm.

Bob Mount is emeritus professor of zoology and entomology at Auburn University and writes a column for the Opelika-Auburn News.