In coastal back-dune and scrub communities where drying winds are abundant and social services rare, companion plants often turn to the unlicensed Western scrub jay for relationship counseling. Jays are always free with advice, whether the companions be independent, symbiotic, parasitic, or even at a distance that requires pollinator interventions. Here's what happened when one hopped in between a Coyote brush and a Seaside (Indian) paintbrush.

Jay: Both of you ready for our session? Nice tachinid flies! Mind if I eat a few?

Coyote: Help yourself.

Jay: Your friend's a paintbrush, I notice. They call them prairie fire. What do you think about having yellow-white flowers while your opposite's are bright red?

Coyote: Not even. Those red things are leaves.

Paintbrush: They're brachts. I might get one or two more on my birthday. I haven't decided.

Coyote: The flowers are down inside, and they aren't red.

Paintbrush: They are, too.

Coyote: I've seen them; you don't have to lie.

Jay: I see. And paintbrush, your partner isn't flowering right now, but­

Paintbrush: Coyote flowers? When does that happen?

Coyote: Of course I get flowers. In August I was covered with them.

Paintbrush: Oh?

Coyote: You were so lit all summer, you didn't see a thing.

Paintbrush: I was not.

Jay: What did you think of them, paintbrush? They're not as visible, are they?

Paintbrush: I thought it was dust. Whenever the hummingbird flies around me, it stirs up so much dust. The hummingbird's crazy about my brachts.

Coyote: I noticed.

Paintbrush: What's wrong with that? You are so touchy. A hummingbird can't even look at me without you getting jealous.

Coyote: I've got nothing against the hummingbird. I photosynthesize my taproot off all year for you to make nectar to give to the hummingbird.

Paintbrush: Yeah, if it wasn't for me spending all the sap on pretty feathers you'd be the richest blob in dullsville.

Jay: Let's keep this in mind and return to it.

Paintbrush [whispers]: You have never given me one calorie that I‹

Coyote: I'm not complaining. I undertand that you can't make enough to support yourself‹

Paintbrush [shrieks]: I photosynthesize! I am a hemi-parasite! Hemi! As in hemisphere! Meaning I can and do photosynthesize on my own. You keep ignoring that. You are so critical! I wish you could figure out how sick everybody is of your patronizing attitude. Not just me. Ask the stickey, ask the daisy, ask the dudlea.

Coyote: Stick and day and dud, keep out of this.

Paintbrush: That's right, lord it over us.

Coyote: Settle down. I don't mind everybody using my shade in the summer. I block the wind for you all, I drop dew on everybody ­ that's fine. That's what I want and I enjoy it.

Paintbrush: Then what is your problem about hummingbird? I didn't hear any complaints from you when that pushy yellow lupin sprang up practically under your roots and rattled its seedpods until I went practically deaf.

Coyote: That was just an early successional thing.

[silence]

Jay: Paintbrush, you were talking about your partner's flowers. When you first entwined your roots, was coyote in bloom?

Paintbrush: I guess. Maybe.

Jay: I can see that you value an attractive appearance, colorful brachts, all of those-

Paintbrush: I know what you're asking. Am I the kind that wraps my roots around things to get bright. Yes. That is what I do. I pass on the wealth to the birds and the bugs and the beetles ­ and yes, to the hummingbird. And you know what? That is the wealth given to all of us for free by the sun.

Jay: I understand that you are an important contributor to the plant community. Do you have any thoughts about why a plant with your asthetic values doesn't remember whether coyote's flowers are white or yellow?

Paintbrush: Because it's not important. Jaybird, I'm sure you're a really fine counsellor and all, but let's face it, you don't have a clue about species like me.

Coyote: What the parasite's saying is, when paintbrushes decide where to root, it isn't the flowers they look at.

Paintbrush: Luckily for you. If you and this bird are so worried about what color your flowers would be if you had any, get some other pervert with half missing to diagnose you.

Jay: Let's go on to--

Coyote: I am not a pervert and I do not have half missing! Coyote brushes are dio-ecious, having two forms, male or female. Plants incorporating both sexes are mono-ecious, having only one form.

Paintbrush: Which form has everything it needs. I'm sorry if other plants ­ oh, excuse me, doctor jaybird. I'm sorry if other species don't. Lupins are monoecious just like me, you know.

Coyote: Would you quit with the lupin? I don't bring up the hummingbird every other sentence, do I?

Jay: As paintbrush implies, there can be times, in some monoecious-dioecious relationships, when the dioecious partner feels incomplete or frustrated by inability to self-pollinate. On the other wing, the monoecious partner, may feel left out of a realm of activity ­

Paintbrush: I can hetero-pollinate, for your information. I just prefer not to, and do not need to hear a bunch of dioecian sermonizing ­ oh, forget it. You don't understand.

Jay: Coyote?

Coyote: Tell you the truth, jay, that's how the parasite earns its keep. That flashy red top pulls in every bird and bee in the scrub. Otherwise I'd probably never pollinate.

Paintbrush: They like my brachts. Hummingbird, sparrow, butterflies, bees, everybody.

Jay: So you're comfortable with your role in the relationship.

Paintbrush: Yeah, well, somebody's got to keep dullsville alive. They said I was crazy to mix up my roots with a coyote.

Jay: You feel that you made a selection.

Paintbrush: I only take nutrients from the roots of plants that have so much it makes them boring.

Jay: I wonder, coyote brush, do you think the relationship makes life more interesting? Conversely, you might think your relationship has caused you to lose yourŠ to downplay the dioecious aspect of your personality. Has it?

Coyote: No. Every year I flower right on time.

Jay: Yet you don't know the color of your flowers.

Coyote: You notice any mirrors here? What's the difference whether they're white girl-flowers or yellow boy-flowers or purple with polka dots?

Paintbrush: That's right, it's not important. What's important is ­ you know, sticking together, wet years and dry.

Coyote: My flower is red. Paintbrush is my flower.

Paintbrush: And coyote's my root.

Coyote: So thanks for dropping by. We don't need counseling.

Paintbrush: Do have a few more tachinids for your trip.