I spotted this cool-looking dragonfly yesterday when it flew to a hanging perch in some shaded vegetation along a creek in Prince William County. I was walking along a trail parallel to the creek and was primarily looking towards the water. Out of the corner of my eye, I detected some movement and spotted where the dragonfly had landed.
A couple of things immediately stood out to me. The dragonfly was hanging vertically, which meant that it was probably not one of the more common skimmers that I am used to seeing at this time of the year. I noted too that the dragonfly was long and skinny and, realizing that my camera was going to have trouble focusing on the dragonfly, I switched to manual focusing. I was able to snap off only a couple of shots before the dragonfly flew away and despite my efforts to relocate it, I was not able to find the dragonfly again.
When I looked on the back of my camera at the images that I had captured, I was not able to identify the dragonfly. When I returned home, I looked through my dragonfly guides and determined that it was a Fawn Darner dragonfly (Boyeria vinosa), a new species for me. Some experts in a Facebook dragonfly group confirmed my identification.
According to the Dragonflies of Northern Virginia website, “Unlike most other darners, and in fact most dragonflies, Fawns shun open, sunny areas. They spend the day hiding in dense, shady underbrush, hanging from the branches of shrubs and young trees. Around 4PM they start venturing out to patrol their shady, forest streams, peaking from about 6PM-8PM.” I encountered the Fawn Darner around midday, so I may have been disturbing its resting period.
Wildlife and nature photographers use many different approaches. Some of them go out to researched locations with a goal of seeing specific species—they are very targeted in their tactics. Others, like me, are opportunistic photographers who wander about, ready to react to whatever they encounter. Although I do love to spot species that are new to me, as was the case with this Fawn Darner, such encounters tend to be almost serendipitous—I tend to stumble upon new species.
© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.
Mike Powell 