I have previously stated that the Zebra Clubtail is probably
my very favorite dragonfly. That being
said, like many of you, it is hard to pick a favorite. Certainly, people (myself included) are drawn
to their striking colors and bold patterns.
Beauty is more apt catches our eye, rather than the drab and
inconspicuous, and this is true for so many of our beloved outdoor
creatures. Our social media accounts are
riddled with photos of brightly colored birds, boldly patterned beetles, and
striking butterflies in addition to our Odonate friends. Am I wrong here? How many photos do you see of the drab ground
beetles on Facebook as compared to their boldly patterned cousins the tiger
beetles? I probably have seen a thousand
pictures of brightly colored warblers for every picture of the non-descript,
but cute, Song Sparrow. We all gravitate
to beauty, and there is nothing wrong with that. I am often guilty of ignoring the mundane
looking creatures and favoring the bold.
However, I often find that when I learn something peculiar about one of
these overlooked creatures, I become enchanted with them. I would like to think that my science
background really draws me to the uniquely behaviored creatures just as much as
the uniquely colored or patterned.
Let me give you a peek in my brain. Beware!
For it is a place full of dangerous distractions; ranging from
long-legged flies, genealogy, shiny guitars, and science fiction and
fantasy epics. There are many pitfalls
and places to get lost. With that warning, I am going to take you back to 2018 when my family took a trip to Massachusetts
for some family history exploration of my wife’s deep colonial roots. They go way back in this country; mine are
not quite so deep but are still very interesting. However, that is an entirely different
topic. I did warn you about how
dangerous my brain is, right?
Anyway, all of the family history and colonial history was
very interesting, but I wasn’t going to go all the way to Massachusetts and not look
for Odonates. I wanted to see some
species that I hadn’t seen before, and at the top of that list was the Seaside
Dragonlet. Is it the most spectacularly patterned
and colored species in the northeast? I
think you would agree that it is not. However,
its unique ecology and biology had it as the only species I tagged as a “must
see”. I was maybe a bit obsessive about
finding it; my wife could probably corroborate this. I looked a few times in Massachusetts, and completely failed. I was a bit melancholy that all my efforts
yielded no fruit.
On our last full day in the northeast, there was a trip
planned (with my wife’s distant cousins) to travel north to Maine where there
was some more family history to learn. I
did not expect that the trip would allow me the time to stop and check out any
salt marshes along the way, but just in case, I went to Google Earth and
followed our route north. I found what
looked like an accessible salt marsh in Maine and memorized its location. The day was beautiful, the drive was incredible,
and we saw many New Hampshire license plates.
New Hampshire has the coolest state motto, so I’m quite certain that my large family group became weary of my “Live Free or Die!” proclamations. To fully appreciate that image, you have to
picture a van that included my sons ages three and ten, my seventeen-year-old
daughter, my wife, my mother-in-law, and her soon to be husband. This eclectic group deserves credit for
tolerating my sporadic outbursts of patriotism.
Live Free or Die! |
Again, I digress.
This is likely to be the longest blog I have written, as I haven’t even
gotten to the main topic yet. I hope you
are still with me. Back to the
story. We had fifteen minutes extra on
our trip. The wonderfully tolerant
people in my van acquiesced to my wish to stop at a salt marsh in the middle of
nowhere, and I found my Seaside Dragonlets.
I even netted one to show to the entire crew. I was ecstatic for certain, but even at the
time I was photographing them, I was already lamenting not being able to spend
more time studying them. It is the
unique habitat requirements of this species that caused me obsess over
them. I can tell you that I will chase
Seaside Dragonlets again, and this time I will make the time to watch them, and
maybe even find a nymph!
Male Seaside Dragonlet from Maine |
So that was a very long preamble to get to my point. My point is that unique and interesting species of Odonates exist right here in our own state, and they may not be as photogenic, but they are every bit as captivating. I have discussed the boghaunters previously, and the two species of boghaunters certainly qualify as unique and interesting despite being on the more inconspicuous and drab side of the Odonate world. However, this blog is actually about a dragonfly that I haven’t even mentioned yet. It is a creature that speaks to me on a spiritual level. It is not boldly patterned, nor is it rare. It is actually one of our most common large dragonflies.
The creature that I am referring to is the secretive Fawn
Darner. There is something about this
species that holds my attention and fascination. If you take the time to watch the banks of
the streams and rivers of late summer, you may be able to see this heavily
camouflaged species hugging the stream bank and exploring the nooks and crannies
of almost every log or stick it comes across.
No other dragonfly in our area behaves quite like this species (except
maybe its genera cousin, the Ocellated Darner, which is not yet known in
Wisconsin). It behaves differently than
every other dragonfly I find, even the Shadow Darner that inhabits the same
haunts. The cryptic coloration also sets it apart from the bold colors and
patterns of the other darners in Wisconsin.
I think maybe that this anomalous dragonfly and I are
kindred spirits. I know that as I write
down this thought, that I am very unscientifically anthropomorphizing this
animal, but I have a whimsical side nearly as strong as my scientific, so
indulge me if you will. The behavior of
this creature is not far removed from my own.
Both of us like to be inconspicuous.
We share the same favored habitat.
Its behavior of meticulously exploring the banks of a stream are very
much like that of a curious Odonatist. I
don’t believe in the concept of a spirit animal, but if I did, it would be a
Fawn Darner.
I often reflect on the Fawn Darner at this time of year, and
as the flight season winds down, I mark the end of summer with the last flight
of the Fawn Darner. At this point, I have
seen my last of the year and it brings me to recall my last Fawn Darner of a
prior year. I can vividly remember the
day in mid- September when I was about to give up and retreat from the creek,
when around the big bend I saw a movement in the deep shadows of a fallen tree
along the far bank. I hurried to the
bank to get in a position to net. A
moment later, I see the brown form with shaded wings many yards upstream. I watch it, it spends two minutes working up
the bank toward me, and as it gets right in front of me, I pause. For some reason I don’t swing the net. I allow it to continue along its journey undisturbed. In that moment, it just did not seem like
the right to deprive this creature of its freedom, even for a
moment. Instead I watched it until after a short time it wound around the next bend, and beyond my sight. Away it went, free to enjoy the
last day of summer same as I.
In the beautiful film “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty” the character
Sean O’Connell , world-renowned photographer (played by Sean Penn), illustrates
this feeling. After finally finding the
elusive animal he is searching for, he chooses to not take the picture, and
instead just watches it. Walter (played by Ben Stiller) is astounded
that the photographer does not take the picture. Sean explains that sometimes he just wants to
stay in the moment, without the distraction of the camera. There is a lesson that I think many of us
that love nature can understand. I personally
relate very strongly to that sentiment.
There are times you just stay in that moment as long as you can, feeling
the magic of the incredible place that we call the Earth. Had I swung the net that day, I likely would
not remember the beauty of that moment so vividly.
So this blog ultimately is a toast to the beauty of nature
and all of its wonder; be it the boldly colored, the strangely behaved, or wonderfully
unique. Nature constantly reminds me to
celebrate the differences in all creatures, and in turn helps me to appreciate
the same uniqueness in all of the people that share this planet with them. If I had a spirit animal, it would be a Fawn
Darner. What about you? What is your spirit animal? What draws you into a powerful connection
with nature and reminds you that you are a part of it? I encourage you to seek out and enjoy those
moments that remind you of who you are at the core, a living part of the living
Earth.
Fawn Darner - the last of 2019 from September 17th |
No comments:
Post a Comment