When you go out to take photos, do you have specific goals in mind? I consider myself to be an opportunistic shooter—I like to walk around in the wild and photograph whatever happens to catch my eye.
This past Monday, though, I joined fellow dragonfly enthusiast and photographer Walter Sanford on a very targeted mission. We were going to search for some relatively uncommon dragonfly species called spiketails in a location where they had been recently seen. These species can be found only during a limited period of the spring and only at small forest streams or spring-fed seepages.
We were particularly interested in the Twin-spotted Spiketail (Cordulegaster maculata), a dragonfly that is less than 3 inches in length (76 mm) and usually hangs vertically or at an angle in vegetation close to the ground. As you can probably tell from my description, these dragonflies are tough to find. Walter and I have hunted together for dragonflies in the past and have found that it helps to work in pairs, so that if one flushes a dragonfly, the other person can sometimes track it to its new location.
We searched and searched for what seemed like hours and came up empty-handed. Just when it seemed like we might be getting ready to concede defeat, I spotted what I think was a Twin-spotted Spiketail. I called out to Walter and put my camera to my eye. Alas, the dragonfly flew away before I could get a shot. Previously he and I had a conversation about whether it was better to have seen none or to have seen one and not gotten a shot. I was now faced with the second case.
We figured that our odds were about one in a million of spotting another Twin-spotted Spiketail, but having seen one, we had a glimmer of hope and kept searching. Without intending to do so, we drifted apart, out of sight of each other. Suddenly I heard Walter’s voice calling to me, saying that he had spotted one. The basic problem was that I did not know where he was. I wrongly assumed that he was near a small stream, so I rushed downhill through the muck and the thorns, but didn’t see him. He called out again even more insistently and I realized that he was uphill from me. Apparently I am not good at determining directions on the basis of sounds.
I scrambled up the bank to him and he motioned to me to move around him on the left. About that time, the dragonfly that he was photographing took off and headed down the trail. Walter was about ready to give chase when I told him to stop—I had spotted what turned out to be a male Twin-spotted Spiketail at ankle-height just a few feet from where he was standing. Our patience and persistence ended up being rewarded and I was thrilled to be able to get some shots of this beautiful dragonfly, a species that I had never before encountered.
Long-time readers may recall that Walter and I are very different in our approaches to many things. Our photography gear is different; my background and education is in liberal arts and his is in science; and our personalities are quite dissimilar. Not surprisingly, our writing styles vary too. Several times in the past we have done companion blog postings after our adventures. Check out Walter’s blog post today for his perspective on our hunt for this elusive dragonfly and for his wonderful images.
As it turned out, our day of dragonfly hunting was not yet over, but that will the subject of a future blog posting.
© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.
Mike Powell 
Well done Mike, great find and lovely image, it’s a nice feeling when all that searching pays off.
I condensed your commentary for Benjamin. He then examined the enlarged photo of this dragonfly from every possible angle : “Wow, he is the bestest one. Green eyes, two yellow spots, and lots of spots on his tail too. I love his pretty wings.” We agree that this was worth your determined hunt. Thank-you, Mr. Mike!!
Thanks for condensing the commentary–I got caught up a bit in writing the narrative this morning. Benjamin quickly saw the specific characteristics of this dragonfly that help distinguish it from others. The rows of spots is what gives it the name “Twin-spotted” as you probably have guessed. Between the two of us, Benjamin is getting quite an education in the natural world.
Well done Mike. Like you, I find myself an ‘opportunist’ yet on eve I envision a particular image, I seek it quite deliberately. Great shot of an elusive dragon.
Very nicely done, Mike. I’m picturing you trudging down and back up. Thank you for your determination. That’s a beautiful photo.
Nice Mike! I can not wait to see the Dragonflies & Damselflies coming around here to photograph. I saw a couple in a few locations just cruising by, but they should be in large numbers here soon.
Very nice image, Mike, and fun story of the journey to get it. I’m mostly an opportunist photographer and am easily distracted even if I set out on a specific mission. “Bird in the hand” comes to my mind a lot!
Thanks, Ellen. I too am easily distracted when I am out in the wild (or even when looking for a word in the dictionary). I seem to have such broad ranging interests and insatiable curiosity that I marvel at all of the cool things that I see and experience.
I like that way of looking at it… We sure see a lot of cool things while out in the wild. I’ve noticed that folks that are too focused on one thing miss a lot.
Like Ellen, I enjoyed your story and the photo is great!
Thanks, Liz. I got a little carried away in length when I started to tell the story, but I really did want to convey a sense of the experience and the emotional context of the image acquisition process. I quickly discovered when I started this blog almost six years ago that I enjoyed expressing my creativity in my words as well as in my images. I appreciate the fact that you were willing to plow your way through my prose.
It was a pleasure for me Mike. Thank you for sharing.
[…] Walter Sanford and I scoured an area of Occoquan Regional Park for spiketail dragonflies. In a blog posting earlier this week I chronicled our long and ultimately successful search for the elusive […]