There are now plenty of Ospreys (Pandion haliaetus) to see at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge, though it is still a challenge to get a decent shot of one. I spotted the osprey in the first photo last week and it seemed to be in a pensive mood or perhaps was simply alert to the possibility of an attack from above. One of my Facebook readers suggested that this was an osprey father-to-be who was contemplating the weight of his new responsibilities and the end of his happy-go-lucky bachelor days.
The osprey in the second shot was keeping watch over one of the larger osprey nests at the wildlife refuge. Unlike bald eagles, which put a lot of care and attention into the construction of their nests, ospreys often seem content to throw a few sticks together in a rather haphazard way. As a result, quite a few osprey nests are damaged by winter storms and have to be reconstructed when the ospreys return in the spring.
The osprey in the final shot is working on a different nest. Ospreys lay their eggs later than the eagles, which are already caring for their young eaglets. It is probably about time now for the ospreys to begin sitting on their nests and incubating their own eggs.
I was happy that I managed to get a shot of this tiny butterfly perched low in the vegetation at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge on Wednesday. I think it may be a Falcate Orangetip (Anthocharis midea), although the butterfly never opened its wings, so I was not able to confirm that the wings were tipped with orange.
I was a bit shocked that I was able to capture so much detail of this tiny creature, given that I was shooting with my Tamron 150-600mm zoom lens fully extended to 600mm. When I bought this lens in November 2014, I remember reading reviews about the lens that stated that it was soft at 600m. That has not really been my experience. If I pay attention to my techniques and use a monopod for additional stability (as I was doing for this shot), I can shots that are acceptably sharp to my eye.
For those of you who are especially geeky, for this shot I was shooting with a Canon 7D at f/8, 1/400 sec, and ISO 800 with an exposure compensation value of minus 1.33 stops. More important than the settings, though, is the fact that I like the image that I managed to capture—that is always my number one priority.
As I was reviewing my photos of the past couple of weeks, I was a little surprised at the number of shots that I have taken of Blue Corporal (Ladona deplanata) dragonflies in wildly varying environments. Blue Corporals are an early-season species and won’t be around for too much longer, so I am happy to have had the opportunity to observe so many of them. Most of the time, Blue Corporals like to perch flat and, judging from the photos, it doesn’t seem to matter if there are rocks, vegetation, or even lily pads.
From the perspective of a naturalist, I like the way that the different photos give you a feel for the environments in which I found these dragonflies. As a photographer, I was also struck by the way that the colors and textures of the background interact with the subjects. Most of the backgrounds in these shots are somewhat cluttered, but I did my best to use framing and focusing techniques to keep the background from being too distracting.
If I had to make a choice, I would say that the first photo is my favorite of the Blue Corporal images. I love the juxtaposition of the dragonfly with the varied textures, shapes, and colors of the rocks. I also really like the way the background grows progressively more blurry towards the top of the image. Do you have a favorite?
As I was focusing in on a Tree Swallow (Tachycineta bicolor) that was happily singing from a perch sticking out of a small pond, another swallow came screeching in in an attempt to take over the perch. The attack was successful and the first bird was forced to leave.
Happy with his effort to become “king of the hill,” the new swallow began to sing with all of his might as he surveyed his new kingdom. How long will his reign last? Undoubtedly the swallow knows that others may soon seek his place, but seems determined to enjoy his moment in the spotlight.
I tracked this Common Baskettail dragonfly (Epitheca cynosura) in the air for quite some time as it patrolled back and forth along one of the trails at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge, hoping that it would land. Fortunately I acted quickly when finally it did perch and was able to capture these shots.
The Dragonflies of Northern Virginia website provides the following description of the Common Baskettail, “Small, dark, constantly hovering. Fast, acrobatic flight. Often high above clearings and sunny paths/old roads. Also along pond, stream and river edges.” As you can tell from this description, it is pretty challenging to get a shot of a Common Baskettail dragonfly.
Occasionally I will try to capture an image of a Common Baskettail while it is flying, but that works better when the dragonfly is flying above a pond than when it is flying with a background of vegetation. If you are interested in seeing some shots of Common Baskettails in flight, check out my blog posting from May 2022 entitled “Flying Common Baskettail dragonflies.”
The rain has stopped for now, but some raindrops remain, sparkling like tiny jewels this morning on the bearded irises in the garden of my neighbor and fellow photographer Cindy Dyer. I tried to get creative with the framing of the first shot, with a blurred iris in the background of an unopened bud.
In the second shot, I was so close to the bearded iris that you almost can’t tell that the primary subject is a flower—I love my macro lenses. There third and fourth shows show a couple more varieties of irises that are currently in bloom in Cindy’s garden, with lots more still to come.
This Bald Eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) remained steadfastly on guard above its large nest on Wednesday at Occoquan National Wildlife Refuge as a jet flew by in the distance. As I was focusing on the eagle, I caught sight of the jet out of the corner of the eye and managed to time the shot pretty well to be able to include the jet in the frame.
Normally I do not like to include man-made objects in my wildlife photos, but in this case I really like the juxtaposition between the wildness of a bald eagle’s flight and the more “civilized” human flight.
On Wednesday I visited Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge to check on the eaglets in the nests there. As the leaves continue to grow, it is becoming harder and harder to observe activity at several of the nests of the Bald Eagles (Haliaeetus leucocephalus). In one of them, though, I managed to find a small visual tunnel and was fortunate to capture the first two images that show some sweet little moments between an eaglet and one of its parents.
The third image shows an eaglet in a different nest. As you can see, the leaves on the sycamore tree hid most of the nest. Previously I spotted two eaglets in this nest, so there may be another hiding out of view.
The final two shots shows the largest eagle nest at the refuge. The nest is so big and so high in the trees that it is difficult to tell what is going on inside of the nest. One eagle was keeping watch and the other adult appears to be in the nest. If you look closely at the nest right below the tree on which the eagle is perched, you can just make out the yellow beak of an adult eagle. The final image is a close-up shot of the nest that I cropped to show more clearly the eagle’s beak. The adult eagle is perched so high in the nest that it is possible that there is an eaglet or two in the nest as well—when an eagle is incubating eggs it tend to hunker down really low to keep the eggs warm.
It is pretty early in the season for Common Whitetail dragonflies (Plathemis lydia), but one pair was already getting busy last Friday at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. I did not see the actual mating taking place, but I captured this first shot as the female deposited eggs in the water as the male hovered overhead. The second image is a distant shot of the hovering male Common Whitetail.
Different dragonfly species deposit their fertilized eggs in different ways. Some will place the eggs directly into vegetation, while others distribute their eggs more generally into the water. Female Common Whitetails are in the latter group—they oviposit in flight, with guarding male hovering above, by tapping their abdomen into the water near floating vegetation or clumps of mud and often flicking water and eggs forward. According to
If you look closely at the first photo, you can see some concentric ripples where the dragonfly has dipped the tip of her abdomen in the water, releasing some eggs and creating some disturbance on the surface of the water. The male’s job is to fight off any potential rivals that might try to interfere with the process and mate with the female.
The eggs will develop into larvae that will spend most of their lives underwater. The adult phase of their lives, when they transform into dragonflies, may last only a few weeks or so, which is why perpetuation of the species through mating is such a critical biological imperative.
On Monday I went exploring at Accotink Bay Wildlife Refuge at Fort Belvoir, a local US Army installation, and was pleasantly surprised to spot this North American Beaver (Castor canadensis) swimming in Accotink Creek just before midday. Beavers are generally nocturnal and most of the times when I have seen on in the past it has been at dawn or dusk.
I am not sure why this beaver was swimming during the day. Perhaps there are babies in the lodge and the beaver needed a moment of peace and relaxation. Whatever the case, I like the way that I was able to capture the ripples in the water as the beaver slowly swam past me.
Yesterday I went exploring in Accotink Bay Wildlife Refuge, a nature preserve on the grounds of Fort Belvoir, a nearby US Army installation. I did not see many dragonflies, but was happy to spot some Eastern Forktail (Ischnura verticalis) damselflies. These damselflies are quite small—about an inch (25 mm) in length—and have distinctive blue markings near the tips of their abdomens.
Many damselflies have combinations of black and blue on their bodies, so identification can often be difficult. Usually I start by looking at the body and deciding if it is primarily black, as was the case here, primarily blue, or somewhere in the middle. After that, I examine the shape of the markings at the tip of the abdomens and compare them with the pictures in my damselfly identification guide.
Somehow, though, I always have more problems with damselfly identification that I do with dragonfly identification. Fortunately I am part of several Facebook groups that have experts who can weigh in when I need help in identifying a particular damselfly.
One of the clear signs that we are moving through spring is the emergence of large numbers of full-sized butterflies. Last week I was delighted to spot multiple Black Swallowtail (Papilio polyxenes) butterflies. Dark swallowtail butterflies can sometimes be problematic for identification, because in our area we have Pipevine Swallowtails, Spicebush Swallowtails, and the dark morph female Eastern Tiger Swallowtail, in addition to the Black Swallowtail.
However, these butterflies were relatively easy to identify, because I could clearly see the black dot inside the orange dot in each of the photos, one of the field markers of a Black Swallowtail. I was quite struck by the unblemished state of each of these butterflies, which seemed to be fresh and bright with fully intact swallowtails. As the season moves on, some of the butterflies will become more and more tattered and faded.
If you are curious about the identifying marks for the different kinds of dark swallowtails, I highly recommend a blog posting by Louisiana Naturalist called Four Dark Swallowtails. In this posting, she does side-by-comparisons of the four species from different angles and points out the visible differences that are really useful in identification.
I was ecstatic to spot this bright yellow Prothonotary Warbler (Protonotaria citrea) on Tuesday at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. It can be a little frustrating at time of the year when warblers are migrating through our area, because there are leaves on the trees that conceal the little birds—I often end up hearing more warblers than seeing them.
The warbler was perched on this clump of vegetation at the end of a branch and was reaching down into the cluster of leaves. At first I thought that the item in the warbler’s bill was an insect, but now I wonder if it might be a seed. Although Prothonotary Warblers like to eat all kinds of insects, they will also eat fruits and seeds.
I am by nature a curious person and don’t recall encountering the word “prothonotary” in any other context. What is a prothonotary? According to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, “The Prothonotary Warbler got its name from the bright yellow robes worn by papal clerks, known as prothonotaries, in the Roman Catholic church.” A prothonotary is also the chief clerk in certain courts of law, including in the state of Pennsylvania.
Last Tuesday I spotted a Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias) at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge with its wings spread forward in the so-called “flasher pose.” There are several theories about why herons assume this posture. Some speculate that it is for the purpose of temperature regulation (either to warm up or to cool off) or to dry out their feathers. Others believe that it is part of the preening process and that the increased heat makes parasites more active and easier to remove.
I don’t know much about the courting behavior of Eastern Tailed-blue butterflies (Cupido comyntas), but the male at the bottom of the photo was actively pursuing a female when I photographed them on Wednesday in Prince William County. Eastern Tailed-blues are tiny butterflies, with a wingspan of about an inch (25 mm), so you have to look really closely to see the single narrow tail on each hind wing. When their wings are closed, Eastern Tailed-blues are mostly grayish0-white in color, so it was a real visual treat to be able to capture them with their wings open.
What is the most unusual-looking flower that you have ever seen? For me, it would probably be the Japanese Jack-in-the-Pulpit (Arisaema sikokianum). There is something so alien and exotic about this plant that it stopped me in my tracks when I first spotted it last year in early May at Meadowlark Botanical Gardens in Vienna, Virginia. Check out my posting from last year if you would like more details of my first encounter with this plant species.
On Thursday I made a trip the botanical gardens with my friend and photography mentor Cindy Dyer. She was interested in photographing the tulips, peonies, and other flowers, but I made a beeline for the area where I had seen the Japanese Jack-in-the-Pulpit last year. Initially I could not find any, but I asked several of the folks working in the garden beds and one of the walked me to an area where there were two plants that were well past their prime.
As we were talking, another gardener overheard us and noted that she had spotted one further up the trail earlier in the week. I walked really slowly and looked carefully and eventually found the correct spot—there was one wilted Japanese Jack-in-the-Pulpit and one in bloom. The two photos below give you a sense of the beauty of this unusual plant. As you can probably tell, I varied the settings on my camera to give a different feel to each of the images. Although the first image provides a clearer view of the entire plant, I really like the moody feel of the second shot.
The Japanese Jack-in-the-Pulpit is closely related to the Jack-in-the-pulpit (Arisaema triphyllum), which is supposed to be common to the eastern United States, though I have never seen one. The American species looks fairly similar to the Japanese variant, but the spadix, the part that is the “Jack” in the name, is darker in color and the pitcher more closely matches the leaves. If you want to see a beautiful photo of a Jack-in-the-Pulpit growing wild in New England, check out this blog posting by fellow photographer Steve Gingold.
On Tuesday I hiked to the farthest Bald Eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) nest at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge, hoping to determine if there were any eaglets in the nest. During most of the year you can walk past this nest as part of a big loop, but the road is now blocked to protect the eagles, so you have to double back along the trail (a distance of almost two miles (3.2 km) to return to the parking lot.
This eagle nest is in a sycamore tree. Several years ago, one of the limbs gave way and during the off-season almost half of the nest slid to the ground. The eagles have done some repairs each year, but the nest is still relatively small. At this time of the year, there is a good deal of new foliage, so it is a bit difficult to see what is going on in the nest.
When I arrived at the nest, I noticed that one of the adults was sitting completely upright, which was a good sign. When the eagles are incubating the eggs, the tend to hunker down in the nest, with only their heads visible.
As I watched and waited, the adult eagle flew to some higher branches in the tree. My flow of adrenaline and sense of anticipation increased as I waited to see if an eaglet would appear. I was double delighted when two little heads popped up. The eaglet on the left seemed to be a bit bigger than its sibling and was probably the older of the two. In the second image, the bigger eaglet is looking upwards toward the branch where the adult was perched.
I was a long way off when I took these photos with my telephoto zoom lens, so they are not super quality images, but they provide proof that there are at least two little eaglets in this nest. As I noted in an earlier post, there is one eaglet in another nest on the refuge. The third active eagle nest is so large and high up in the trees that it is not yet possible to tell if there are any eagle babies in it—any eaglets will probably have to grow stronger and larger before the climb up to the the edge of that nest.
On Tuesday I spotted this female Common Green Darner (Anax junius) dragonfly at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge, the first darner that I have been able to photograph this season. Like most darners, Common Green Darners are relatively large dragonflies—about 3 inches (76 mm) in length—that spend a lot of time patrolling in the air. In fact, Common Green Darners are one of a handful of dragonflies that migrate, so that the earliest ones that we see in spring are likely to have migrated from more southern locations before local Common Green Darners have emerged.
When I first spotted this dragonfly, she was patrolling over a field of tall vegetation. I watched her fly back and forth for quite a while. When she decided to take a break, I was lucky to see where she landed.
As you can see in the photo, Common Green Darners normally hang vertically. In this case the dragonfly perched relatively close to the ground, so it was a bit of a challenge to frame the shot, particularly because I was shooting with my long telephoto zoom lens. I am quite pleased, though, with the resulting image that shows off a lot of the details of this species, including the distinctive black and blue “bullseye” in from of the dragonfly’s large compound eyes.
I was delighted yesterday to photograph an eaglet in one of the Bald Eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) nests at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. Last week, several photographers posted photos in Facebook of the baby eagle, so I knew for sure that there was at least one in the nest. I have been keeping a close eye on this nest, a small one that was used by ospreys last year, and knew that it would have trouble comfortably accommodating an adult eagle and a growing eaglet.
When I first arrived at the barrier that closes the trail, I could see through the foliage that an eagle was sitting upright in the nest, but I could not see an eaglet. I watched and waited and the eagle eventually flew away. A short time later, another eagle flew in and landed on a tree branch above the nest rather than in the nest. As the eagle approached the nest, a little head popped up and I was able to capture the first image.
The eagle in the tree kept watch over the curious little eaglet and I never did see the adult sit in the tree. After a while, the eaglet disappeared from sight—it was probably time for its afternoon nap.
When I departed the area to check on another eagle nest, the adult was still on duty in the tree. I passed by this nest one last time and noted that an eagle was now sitting in the nest. It may be that one of the parents is small enough to fit into the nest and the other one is simply too large. As the baby grows, I suspect that both parents will be forced out of the nest. I would not see the eaglet until the adult lifted its wing and I was able to capture the final image.
As you can probably see from the blotches of green in the photos, I did not have an unobstructed view of the nest. I am hoping that the leaves on the trees do not fully block my view in the upcoming weeks.
Most of the time fishing spiders have some of their legs in the water to sense the vibrations of potential prey, but the large Six-spotted Fishing Spider (Dolomedes triton) that I spotted last Friday in Prince William County was perched on a log at the edge of a small creek. When I posted the photo on Facebook, one of my friends noted that he often finds fishing spiders far from the water, including in his wood pile.
I do not know how large this spider was, but it looked huge to me. Perhaps that is because the spider had all of its legs fully extended, unlike some spiders whose legs are partially bent when they are in a web.
Different dragonfly species perch in different ways. Some perch high and some perch low; some perch horizontally, others perch at an angle, and others hang vertically. I am always intrigued to look at the way a dragonfly is perched and, in particular, to see how the dragonfly is using its legs.
Last week I was delighted to spot a male Stream Cruiser (Didymops transversa) while I was exploring the edge of a creek in Prince William County, Virginia. The Steam Cruiser was perched low in the vegetation at an angle. Stream Cruisers have such long legs that they look somewhat uncomfortable when they are perching.
If you click on the image below, you can get a closer look at the dragonfly’s legs. The dragonfly does not seem to be using its front legs at all to perch and appears to be relying almost exclusively on its middle set of legs. The back set of legs look to be amazing long and are probably more useful for capturing prey than for perching.
It is almost impossible, but I can’t help but try to capture images of dragonflies in flight. It is arguably the most difficult challenge of my ability to use my camera and also of my patience. None of the dragonflies in these photos flew close to the shores of the streams that I was exploring in Prince William County, Virginia, and I was using only a modest telephoto lens that I was focusing manually—the autofocus on my Tamron 180mm macro lens is relatively slow and could not focus on the dragonflies as they zoomed on by.
Last Wednesday I photographed the dragonfly in the first photo as it was patrolling over a creek. I believe that it is a Uhler’s Sundragon dragonfly (Helocordulia uhleri), which is about 1.8 inches (46 mm) in length. The dragonfly was not exactly following a pattern, but I was able to track it as it flew all around a small section of the creek.
The dragonfly in the second image may also be a Uhler’s Sundragon, though I am less confident of this identification. I really like the fact that the eyes of the dragonfly are in shart focus. It is probably just my imagination, but this dragonfly seemed to glance up at me and smile as it flew on by. In this photo, as in the first one, you really have a sense of the environment in which I found the dragonfly.
I captured the final image on Friday as I was exploring a different creek in Prince William County. The dragonfly in this photo was much larger than the ones in the other photos and was flying much faster and seemed to be conducting patrols over a much longer stretch of the creek. All the image was not completely sharp, I captured enough details to be able to identify it as male Stream Cruiser (Didymops transversa) dragonfly, a species that is about 2.2 inches (56 mm) in length.
Last year I did a short video on YouTube called Impossible Shots? Dragonflies in Flight in which I talked about one of my forays into the field and highlighted my approach to photographing dragonflies. Check it out if you want to see some more shots of dragonflies in flight or if you simply want to hear my voice and see my face. I included a link to the video in the title of the video (which should appear in color and underlined) and am also going to try to paste it into the end of posting, so you don’t have to go to YouTube to watch it. I am still just dabbling in video, but want to try to do more of it this year.
When it comes to photographs, do you prefer “pretty pictures” or “action shots?” If I were to judge from “likes” on social media platforms, “pretty pictures” are more popular, although I am often most proud of my “actions shots.” One of the coolest things about photography, of course, is that there is a wide latitude for individual styles and preferences and neither the viewer nor the photographer has to be forced into making false choices.
On Monday I took a couple of photos of small birds during a visit to Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. At this time of the year I am thrilled when I am able to spot the small birds that are often hidden by the increasingly dense foliage.
The bird in the first photo is an incredibly cute Carolina Wren (Thryothorus ludovicianus). Carolina Wrens frequently poke about in the undergrowth and I was delighted when this one chose instead to perch on a photogenic branch in the open. The result was this pretty portrait of the little wren that looks almost like it was taken in a studio environment.
The bird in the second photo is a White-throated Sparrow (Zonotrichia albicollis). It was not perched in the open and it was not stationary. The little sparrow was bobbing and moving as it attempted to grab some of the tender shoots growing on the tree. I was happy when I managed to get a shot in which the bird has one of the shoots in its mouth. The background in this image is cluttered and part of the bird’s body is hidden by a branch. However, I like the moment that I captured and the way that the image provides a sense of the bird’s environment.
When I am photographing wildlife, I am unconsciously making a series of creative choices in the way that I frame an image and the camera settings that I use, all of which affect the look and feel of the resulting images. Sometimes of those images will be “artsy” and others will be “documentary”—I love both styles of photography.
On Monday I was thrilled to photograph my first dragonfly of the year at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge, the location that I visit most frequently with my camera. The first prize goes to an immature male Blue Corporal dragonfly (Ladona deplanata)—males turn blue as they mature, but initially they have the same coloration as the females. Blue Corporals of both genders have two light-colored stripes on the front of their thoraxes, the traditional rank military insignia for corporals.
Later in the day I spotted a female Blue Corporal perched on some dry leaves, as shown in the second photo. Can you spot the differences between the dragonflies in the first and second photos? The male abdomen tends to be a bit thinner than the abdomen of the female. However, the biggest difference is in the terminal appendages, i.e. the specific parts at the very tip of their abdomens (their “tails”).
The following day I returned to the refuge and spotted another Blue Corporal perched in some vegetation—I think it is another immature male. Most of the time Blue Corporals like to perch on the ground, but this one looked like it had only recently emerged and may have been waiting for its wings to harden.
When dragonflies undergo their metamorphosis from water-dwelling nymphs to aerial acrobats, their wings are initially very clear and fragile and the creatures are very vulnerable, so I was careful not to disturb the dragonfly when I took a few photos. If you are interested to learn more, check out a 2016 blog posting Metamorphosis of a dragonfly in which I documented the entire transformation process of a Common Sandragon dragonfly in a series of 15 photos. At the end of that series you will be able to see why I characterized the wings of a newly-emerged dragonfly as “fragile.”
Mayapples (Podophyllum peltatum) are strange plants. Most of the time they grow in colonies and each plant has a stalk and a single umbrella-shaped leaf. Occasionally, though, the stem will branch off and there will be two leaves. In those cases, a single flower may emerge at the intersection of the two branches of the stem.
According to the Wisconsin Horticulture website, “The nodding, white to rose-colored flowers appear in April or May. Each flower is 2-3 inches wide, with 6 light green sepals, 6 to 9 waxy petals, and twice as many stamens with white filaments and yellow anthers. Although the flowers are quite showy, they are short-lived and usually hidden by the leaves. The flowers are fragrant, variously described as pleasant to putrid and are visited by bumblebees and other long-tongued bees.”
Yesterday I spotted a flowering Mayapple plant as I was exploring the area surrounding a creek in Prince William County, Virginia. I have been seeing Mayapple plants for the last couple of weeks as I have been searching for dragonflies, but this is the first one that I have seen in bloom this spring. You have to get pretty low to the ground to spot the flowers, and it was a bit of a challenge getting this shot.
There is something whimsical about a flower that has its own dual umbrella to provide it with shade—I can’t help but smile whenever I spot a Mayapple in bloom.
I was extremely happy yesterday to encounter several Twin-spotted Spiketail dragonflies (Cordulegaster maculata) during a visit to Occoquan Regional Park, a county-run recreational park in Lorton, Virginia. In the past I have occasionally seen Twin-spotted Spiketails at this location and I went there specifically to look for this species—I was hopeful, but realistic in my expectations of finding this relatively uncommon dragonfly.
Spiketails are a small family of large black or brown dragonflies with similar bright yellow stripes on their thoraxes and species-specific makings on their abdomens. Females have a spike-like pseudo-ovipositor at the end of their abdomens that is responsible for the “spiketail” name.
When I first encountered a spiketail yesterday, it was flying in the air and I was not sure what kind of dragonfly it was. Fortunately I was able to see where it landed and when I got closer, I was ecstatic, because I could actually see the dragonfly’s “spike,” as you can see in the first photo.
There are several other spiketail species in our area, but the Twin-spotted Spiketail is the only one that is flying this early in the season. The flight season for most of the early season dragonflies lasts for only a month or so, so I try to spend as much time outdoors as I can during April and May to maximize my chances of seeing these uncommon species. As you can probably judge, from the first photo, Twin-spotted Spiketails are large, almost 3 inches (76 mm) in length. Although you can’t really seen the markings in the first photo, there are a paired yellow spots or rounded triangles along the length of the abdomen.
I decided to hang around the area where I spotted the first spiketail to see if others would fly by and my patience was rewarded. I was able to capture shot of several other Twin-spotted Spiketails as you can see in the second and third photos. Both of these spiketails are males, I believe, and therefore do not have the visible “spike.” In those photos, though, you get a pretty good view of the pattern of the paired spots, which is why the species is called “twin-spotted.”
This dragonfly season is starting out with a bang and I feel blessed to have photographed several uncommon species already. Temperatures today are forecast to rise to about 84 degrees (29 degrees C) and I plant to continue my search for beautiful and elusive aerial acrobats, like these Twin-spotted Spiketails.
Yesterday was a beautiful spring day and I was delighted to capture this image of a Zebra Swallowtail (Eurytides marcellus), one of my favorite butterflies, at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. I chased after this hyperactive butterfly and luckily was close enough to get a shot when it landed for a split second. I love the touches of red and blue on this mostly monochromatic butterfly and its distinctive long “tails.”
As I was doing a little research on this butterfly, I discovered that the Zebra Swallowtail has two seasonal forms, one occurring in the spring and the other in the summer. According to Wikipedia, the spring forms are smaller, more white, and have short, black tails with white tips. As you can see from the first photo below, yesterday’s Zebra Swallowtail was a spring form butterfly.
Summer forms of the Zebra Swallowtail are larger, have broader black stripes, and longer, black tails with white edges. For the sake of comparison, I reprised a photo from a 6 September 2021 blog posting. The butterfly in the second photo, a summer form butterfly, indeed looks darker than the one in the first photo and there are noticeable differences in the shape and coloration of the tails.
Early spring wildflowers, like the Virginia Spring Beauty (Claytonia virginica), are an important source of food for a host of small bees and other insects. Many insects gather pollen from these flowers and in doing so help to pollinate the plants.
Some species of bees, though, lack scopa (the pollen-collecting hairs) and do not collect pollen to feed their offspring. The genus Nomada, according to Wikipedia, is the largest genus of kleptoparasitic bees sometimes referred to as “cuckoo bees.” Kleptoparasitic bees are so named because they enter the nests of a host and lay eggs there, stealing resources that the host has already collected.
It is a little hard to see the body of the bee in the photo below, but if you look closely you can see its striped abdomen, which is wasp-like in appearance. I was not sure of the type of bee, so I posted it to BugGuide, a useful resource for insect identification, and one of the experts there identified the bee as belonging to the genus Nomada.
Yesterday I stopped by the garden of my neighbor and fellow photographer Cindy Dyer. Her early-season tulips were well beyond their prime, but more tulips are getting ready to bloom. I was a little surprised to see that some of her irises are already starting to bloom too. I love to photograph flowers when they are at this stage of growth—they are already beautiful and give hints of the additional beauty that is to come.
Happy Easter to all of you who are celebrating this holy day. Christ is risen!
Have you ever looked closely at a dragonfly’s legs? A dragonfly has six legs that are attached in pairs to its thorax. The main parts of the leg are the upper leg or femur, the lower leg or tibia, and the foot or tarsus, which is made up of three segments and ends with a pair of claws. The legs are covered with spiky hairs and fulfill a variety of functions, including perching, catching and holding onto prey, and cleaning its mouth and eyes.
The first photo is a close-up view of a Uhler’s Sundragon (Helocordulia uhleri) that I spotted on 4 April near a creek in Prince William County, Virginia. You get a really good view of one of the middle legs of the dragonfly, including the way that it bends at two joints and the way the tiny claws are used to hold onto the perch. I can’t be sure, but I believe that the dragonfly may be using one of its front legs to wipe its large compound eye. If you click on the photo, you can see some of the thousands of ommatidia, the faceted optical units that allow a dragonfly to see in almost 360 degrees around itself.
In the second photo, you can see that the sets of legs are of different lengths. The back legs, which are the longest, are the ones that are most often used to catch and subdue prey. The front leg nearest us, does not seem to be used and the moment for perching and the “elbow” appears to be touching the eye. At first I thought that this was merely an awkward perch, but the more I look at the photo, the more I think that the dragonfly is cleaning its eye.
The final photo, which was actually the first of these photos that I took, shows the entire body of the Uhler’s Sundragon. The Uhler’s Sundragon is visually similar to the Selys’s Sundragon, the first dragonfly that I spotted this year, with the notable difference that the Uhler’s Sundragon has little orange patches at the base of its wings, as you can see in the photo, that are not present with the Selys’s Sundragon. If you look at the front legs, it appears to me that the dragonfly was using both of them initially for perching—its “elbow” does not appear to bent as it was in the middle photo.
This post was a little more “geeky” than usual, delving deeper into dragonfly anatomy than I usually do. I think it is fascinating to try to observe and understand the behavior that I see in my subjects and hope that you may also find these details to be somewhat interesting.
As I was exploring the edge of the same small pond where I photographed the newt featured in yesterday’s blog posting, I spotted my first damselfly of the season. Damselflies and dragonflies both belong to the order of flying insects known as Odonata. Damselflies tend to be smaller and slimmer that dragonflies and most damselflies hold their wings above their bodies when at rest, unlike dragonflies that perch with wings extended.
Identification of this damselfly was somewhat difficult for me. On the one hand, I saw the broken shoulder stripe that looks like an exclamation point, which suggests that this is a Fragile Forktail damselfly (Ischnura posita). On the other hand, my identification guide states that there is no blue at the tip of the abdomen (the “tail”) of the Fragile Forktail, making me think it might be an Eastern Forktail.
I posted the photo to a Facebook forum called Virginia Odonata and one of the experts there made the following comment, “This is quite an unusual Forktail. Easterns rarely have the split shoulder stripe, but I am still inclined toward Fragile even though the amount of blue on S9 is unusual.” For your information, naturalists divide the abdomen of a dragonfly into ten segments and you start counting from the thorax area (the upper body), so S9 is the penultimate segment.
When it comes to identifying birds and insects, I have grown accustomed to living with some degree of uncertainty. Even experts will sometimes disagree, particularly if there is only a photo from a single angle, which was the case with this damselfly.
For me, the precision of my identification is not critically important—I can enjoy the beauty of this little damselfly without knowing its name. For the second day in a row, I am reminded of Shakespeare, who famously wrote in Romeo and Juliet, “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet.”
Mike Powell 