Are you ever fully satisfied when you meet a goal? I think that many of us drawn to wildlife photograph are restless in our pursuit of newer and better images. We can celebrate our successes, but we tend to be self-critical. We are convinced that we can always improve our skills and our photos, that we need to keep pushing and pushing in a never ending quest for more interesting subjects or better conditions or sharper images .
In many ways, that was the case for me this past Monday, when fellow dragonfly enthusiast 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 Twin-spotted Spiketail. I was feeling a bit tired by the time we saw that dragonfly, but Walter had told me that an additional dragonfly species had been spotted in that same area, the Brown Spiketail dragonfly (Cordulegaster bilineata).
So we kept going and went looking again in an area that we had searched earlier in the day. Some say that the definition of insanity is repeating the same actions and expecting different results. If that’s true, I guess that I qualify as being more than a little crazy. It turned out that we were lucky, really lucky and had multiple chances that afternoon to photograph several male Brown Spiketails. Unlike the Twin-spotted Spiketails from earlier in the day that flew away and never returned, the Brown Spiketails would fly only a short distance away when spooked and it was relatively easy to track them visually to their new perches. Eventually we reached a point of satiation where we would not even take a shot of a dragonfly if it was even partially obscured by vegetation or was facing in the wrong direction. We hoped we would see a female of the species, but it turns out that all of the spiketails we saw that day were males.
The Brown Spiketail dragonflies seem to have a lighter-colored bodies than the Twin-spotted Spiketails (brown vs black) and has paler spots, but to my inexperienced eye they otherwise look pretty similar. I was happy to capture some relatively sharp images that you can see in even greater resolution by clicking on them. For even more detailed photos, check out Walter’s excellent images of our adventures in his blog posting today. He has mastered some techniques that allow him to capture an amazing amount of detail in his dragonfly shots.
© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.
Mike Powell 
First, I read a condensed version of the post and we discussed what it was about. Then, we looked at each of the enlarged photos. Benjamin was excitedly pointing out all of the details on each one…the spiked tail, the spots and body markings, the eyes, the legs, the vegetation they are perched on and the web pattern on the wings. At the end of his examination he said : “Tell Mr. Mike, this Brown Dragonfly is awesome!” I asked if he wanted to go to the other blog to look at his photos. Benjamin’s response : “Okay, but Mr. Mike’s is the bestest.” A dedicated fan indeed! Thank-you, Mr. Mike!!
It is always so wonderful to hear of Benjamin’s reactions to a post. It is amazing how sharp and perceptive he is and how much he enjoys learning about new species. Thank you so much for sharing my work with him and for being so diligent in sharing his reactions.
Spring has sprung and you are enjoying your dragonflies again. 🙂
I’m still trying to photographs birds too, but the leafing of the trees has made it a lot harder to get clear shots of them.
How well I recognize myself in your first paragraph! Never been 100% happy with any shot I’ve taken, there’s always the feeling that something could’ve been better. 🙂 Beautiful pictures, Mike! We don’t have that dragonfly over here so thanks for sharing.
I sometimes run into birders, who have life lists. They are happy when they can see a new bird and check it off their list. I’m have a momentary sense of contentment when I photograph a new species, but that tends to pass quickly. Recently I read a biography of Leonardo da Vinci and learned that he sometimes carried around his paintings for years and years, periodically adding a few strokes, never quite sure that he was finished.