One of four carnivorous plants found in Texas, the small butterwort (Pinguicula pumila) can be harder to spot than the bright red sundews I found dotting the landscape in March. Its genus name Pinguicula alludes to the viscosity of the leaf surface and to the sticky droplets along its stem. The specific epithet pumila, from Latin pumilus or ‘dwarf,’ refers to the plant’s size.
All butterwort species are small, but Pinguicula pumila is the smallest. Its basal rosettes, an inch and a half in diameter, lie close to the ground, with leaves that sport upcurled margins. The stem, four to six inches in length, holds the tiny flower well above the sticky basal leaves; as with sundews, the upraised bloom allows pollinating insects to visit safely.
A butterwort’s starfish-shaped rosette
All butterwort species have a narrow spur on the back of each flower. In Texas, the flowers usually are white, blue-tinged, or lavender, with purple striped throats. In other southeastern states, combinations of white, yellow, and lavender can be found.
Like sundews, butterworts secrete a mucilaginous substance on the surface of their leaves; the droplets lure prey in search of water. Any insect that contacts the leaf is trapped; its struggles to escape trigger the release of additional mucilage, which secures it for the plant.
Butterworts also are able to roll their leaf margins, bringing additional glands into contact with the trapped insect. Once the prey is secure, different glands produce enzymes which begin the digestive process: breaking down the insect’s body, absorbing its fluids into the leaf, and leaving the exoskeleton behind.
Some find these ‘meat-eating’ plants intriguing; others consider them unsettling. What can’t be denied is their adaptability; they’ve found a way to survive in a nutrient-poor environment by utilizing some of the most unusual diet supplements in the world.
Lagniappe 
Lovely photographs with exquisite detail, especially the top one. I love the way you’ve captured the texture and rather glittery look of the surface of the petals. I sometimes notice this on flowers if they’re really close up and it intrigues me very much. I’d be fascinated to know why this shows with some flowers and not others and what it actually is. (The cells of the petal maybe?) I’ve never managed to find any info on it though.
It is interesting how some flowers have that spun-from-sugar look. I’d guess it does result from a difference in cell structure, but just what that might be, I can’t say. Sometimes, it does seem to develop after a bit of time, as the flower begins to fade. Our native rain lilies come to mind, or white spiderworts. Now that I think about it, I do seem to see it more often in white flowers; perhaps the absence of pigment makes it more visible. There’s so much to learn!
Indeed there is a lot to learn! I have noticed it more in older flowers too, so perhaps it gets more pronounced with the age of the flower. Now I must look out for it more!
We often think of carnivorous plants as a remarkable adaptation, but I suppose it’s no more remarkable than many others. Evolution produces some real surprises.
As a vegetarian, though, they give me pause for thought…
That pause for thought no doubt has led to a number of science fiction novels. It doesn’t take much thought to consider what might happen, should these plants begin attaining significant size!
Ah, indeed. The ubiquitous ‘What if?’
Carnivorous plants are fascinating indeed and represent a superb adaptation to securing nutrients otherwise scarce or unavailable. I don’t find it unsettling at all, and nor should anyone who has ever consumed another living creature. Nature in all its forms is a source of wonder, admiration and never-ending delight.
When I posted about the sundews, as many people mentioned that unsettling effect as remarked on their beauty. My own theory is that films and books featuring carnivorous plants as ‘villains’ of one sort or another has shaped their vision; they see perfectly marvelous plants through a lens of fantasy and fear. In any case, wonder, admiration, and delight are my responses, and I’m so glad I was able to find a few of these butterworts to share.
How fortunate, especially for someone who favors white flowers, that you got to see this member of the carnivorous Texas tetrad. Your allusion to most unusual diet supplements is amusing.
I was especially fortunate that another person at the Watson preserve steered me toward these. I might have found them on my own, but I certainly wouldn’t have known at the time what they were. ‘Diminuitive’ hardly covers it. They seem to be even more common throughout the area; perhaps I’ll find more next year, and do a better job of getting the basal leaves and the flower in focus in the same image.
As for those diet supplements, I didn’t see anything I recognized as insects on these plants, while the sundews were covered with insects or their parts. Of course, the sundews are larger and can hold onto larger prey, so that might be part of the answer.
I have never heard of a plant trapping insects through the leaves and then digesting them there. For me, this counts as learning something new today. Good way to start the day!
It’s the same process used by the carnivorous sundews I showed. Pitcher plants do it, too, but of course in their case the dissolving takes place out of sight, so it’s not so noticeable to the casual observer, and the sundews are so pretty it’s easy to admire their color and miss them doing what insects surely consider their dastardly deeds!
How innocent that flower looks! And I guess for us it IS innocent. So fascinating!
That’s a good description of the flower’s appearance. While it waves in the breeze, just being pretty and offering up a bit of pollen, the business end of the plant takes an entirely different approach to the insects that stop by!
Outstanding photographs of such a small plant!!
Just the concept of a carnivorous plant is fascinating. Many science fiction authors and film producers evidently think so, too.
Apparently, we have three different color variants of Pinguicula in our immediate area. A light lavender/white as you show, a bright blue and a yellow. I have some serious “hands and knees” exploration ahead.
There’s a sense in which meat-eating plants can seem opposed to the natural order of things, but that’s a limited, human perspective. Adaptation is adaptation, and from a different perspective, the carnivorous plants are exceptionally clever!
Somewhere along the line I came upon an author who’d listed all the color combiations he’d found among these plants in North and South Carolina: quite a mix of the same lavenders, blues, whites, and yellows that you mentioned. I’ll look forward to seeing the results of your explorations!
Meat-eating plants always make my mind go back to the show, ‘Little Shop of Horror”.
I think that’s true for a lot of people. That show may even have contributed to some people’s unease with carnivorous plants. It’s probably good that the sundews and butterworts are small, and limited to an insect diet!
hahha, I suppose so.
tiny plant and sweet little flower.
It is a delightful flower. I read that one common name is ‘bog violet,’ even though it clearly doesn’t belong in the violet family. It certainly has some of the same pleasing qualities.
So fascinating the trapping methods. But also the color patterns you’ve noted in various regions.
The colors of these seem to be truly ‘mix and match.’ There are white with blue throats, yellow with blue throats, and so on. Why the appearance differs from area to area is a mystery to me, although genetics surely is involved.
I find the adaptation and evolution of carnivorous plants fascinating. Survivors!
It’s as though Mother Nature said, “Still hungry? Go find something in the fridge.” And they did!
Yes, fascinating, as several have written. Another fine lecture with excellent slides! I feel like I am sitting in a biology class. Thanks, Linda. Humans may have to adapt their diet to survive in the future.
More humans would survive today if they adapted their diets a bit. It doesn’t require giving up meat or snacking on grasshoppers to reduce the number of fast food meals, frappés, or doughnuts consumed. Around here, the lines of cars at those places at mealtime astonish me.
These plants certainly have found a way to stay nourished, and thrive.
Yes, humans could change their diets right now and live longer!
I was not aware of this carnivorous plant, Linda. The flowers are definitely delicate, the leaves less so. I am among those who find these meat-eating plants unsettling.
I remember you found the sundews a bit off-putting, too. At least the sundews, and these butterworts, have pretty flowers that you can admire — and they’re far enough removed from the ‘business end’ of the plant that you can ignore those basal leaves!
Cool
They surely are. We’re surrounding by so many beautiful and intriguing plants that I’d never heard about until recently, let alone seen.
Like your reader Ann M., I’m intrigued by the light-catching texture of these plants, seemingly made almost of water alone, similar to a succulent. Maybe high water content in the plant supports making the sticky coating that traps their prey. With all the recent talk of supplementing our diets with insects to get good quality protein, I was interested to read that carnivorous plants are harvesting nitrogen from their insect meals; their end goal is not the protein, but the minerals. As usual, you provided food for thought.
Having had opportunity to try insects-as-food in West Africa, I believe I’ll pass on cricket patties and grasshopper crunch. That said, it is interesting that the plants have found a way to obtain the minerals they need. Butterflies do it, too. While many people are completely put off by the sight of a swallowtail or monarch feasting on dung, they’re drawn to such substances as a source of minerals.
I suspect someone has studied the composition of the mucilage produced by carnivorous plants. It makes sense that water would be involved. On the other hand, flowers like spiderworts, that become jelly-like as they fade, do so because of certain enzymes that the plant produces; it may be that the enzymes break down the cell structure and produce the ‘wet’ appearance.
I’m one of the ones feeling a bit unsettled here, but I do applaud these plants for making lemonade out of lemons. Now, if they’re capturing and eating mosquitoes, I’ll give them a trophy, ha!
I’m sure I saw a mosquito on one of the sundews, but when I looked through my photos, I decided it was one that didn’t rate showing, and I dumped it. I did read a funny story about a woman who started raising sundews in her kitchen; before long, her problem with gnats was over!
How incredibly unusual, for me in my part of the world at least. I love how the flowers can be pollinated without the pollinators getting eaten.
Isn’t that clever of them, to carry those flowers far above the sticky basal leaves? I’m not sure a committe could have pulled off what evolution accomplished.
You have really found some interesting carnivores. I didn’t realize there were so many in Texas.
There are five types of carnivorous plants in the U.S., and four of them are in our state! Even better, I’ve managed to get photos of the other two. Along with the sundews and butterworts, there are bladderworts and pitcher plants. I suppose the pitcher plants are the most familiar; they can be quite large, and hard to miss out in the bogs!
You are like a plant hunter.
I’m not like a plant hunter – I am a plant hunter! On the other hand, I tend not to go searching for specific things. I just go a-hunting, and what I find is what I drag home!
I’m fascinated by plants like these. You’re right they are adaptable and I admire them for it. Great photos.
I’ve sort-of-known about pitcher plants for years, but these other carnivorous plants were quite a surprise. It’s especially interesting that they all survive using similar techniques, and yet each has quite a different appearance, and a slightly different way of ‘doing business.’ It really is cool.
One wonders how such an adaptation as insect eating got started. It would obviously be an advantage for a plant growing in nitrogen-poor soil. Interesting that the flower is set up for polinators and not as a deathtrap like jacks-in-the-pulpit. The flowers are yummy, but the leaves are gummy!
It’s a division of labor, botanical style: one part to bloom, one part to keep the flowers blooming. Like you, I’ve tried to figure out how such an interesting arrangement developed. It’s even more interesting because each type of carnivorous plant took a somewhat different route to the same end. Perhaps someone will figure it out, some day. If not, they’re still fascinating and enjoyable. There’s nothing wrong with having a few mysteries in the world.
The strategies for survival in Nature are amazing. That said, imagine what it must be like to be slowly dissolved/digested. Horrifying. But Nature doesn’t really measure things in the limits of terror so life carries on. We’re all someone else’s meal.
That is a pretty little plant and the starfish like structure is unique and interesting. The flower is delightful and, maybe it appeals to you, white although it does appear to have a bit of lavender color about it..
The flowers can vary quite a bit when it comes to color. I’d love to see Wally’s versions; over in Florida, they get true-blue and yellow ones, with differently colored throats. You can see the slight tinge of lavender in these; they’re very pretty.
Those starfish-like leaves were amazingly small, but cute as could be. I think the curled edges added to the resemblance to a starfish. I can’t remember seeing any other plant with such an appearance, but I tend not to pay (enough) attention to just-emerging leaves.
Somehow, I think of insects more as vegetables than meat. Go figure. I had visions of these beauties having a bit of a hamburger! In any event, they are fascinating. I need a pot of those in my house at fly-season!
That’s a new one: insects as veggies. Now I’m thinking of the possibilities for a children’s story of some sort; I’m just not sure of the plot. (Well, it surely would have to involve a garden plot!) I think these would be too small to deal with flies, but you always could consider a Venus fly-trap, or even a pitcher plant. They can take on pretty large insects; in fact, when I post about the pitcher plants, I have a photo of one with a fly on it!
What a fascinating and beautiful plant.xxx
It tickled me when I read that this plant can only trap and consume very tiny insects because of its own size. The sundews, on the other hand, have their sticky leaves spread out enough that they can deal with ants, bigger flies and bees, and even the occasional beetle.