Find yourself by a pond on a hot summer afternoon and wait for the magic to begin.
You will spot a flash of movement. Then, in a blink, another. It is a brave insect, dancing around its watery home. It might zoom over, hover, perch on a reed nearby. You might gasp when, for one sweet moment, light ripples across a dragonfly’s gossamer wings. Then another, helicoptering across the pond. Iridescent blue damselflies flit near the shoreline, a red skimmer alights on a blade of grass.
It is the dragonfly dance: a feisty, diving, cavorting choreography of gem-like insects on an aquatic stage.
The dance is riveting, performed in a natural theater, and it is complex, mystical and transformational.
You recognize a Blue-eyed Darner who just won’t rest. His dance is a territorial patrol: seeking airborne prey, courting a female, or defending against rival males. In the mating rendezvous, the male and female grasp each other to form a heart-shaped circle. This is a tango, often done in on the fly, in clenched tandem. Once released, females dip over the water in a tap dance while ovipositing — laying eggs — often their last dance in the free world. Perhaps you are witness to the miracle of metamorphosis, when a nymph emerges from water into air and pulls itself out of its skin. Its wings slowly unfold, and then it takes its first flight onto the stage.
Or maybe the dance is just a beautiful joy ride under the sun.
Welcome to my blog.
There is more to come on the many ways dragonflies fascinate us. They fly, they see, they mate, and they metamorphose like no others. We study them like curious citizen scientists with apps and information at easy reach. And we honor them in our literature, song, art and prayers.