Dragonflies and damselfies, also known as odonates, are
truly remarkable creatures. Apart from their often impressive physical characteristics
and vibrancy, these small insects dazzle in the sky with their aerial
acrobatics. They have the required finesse to hover over an object while
scanning their surroundings in all directions, then alight with their tiny appendages
on even the narrowest of vegetation with a gracefulness seen nowhere else in
the insect kingdom, and a second later, if the site doesn’t meet their requirements,
take to the sky again at lightning speed and be out of eye sight before you can
even blink. If that isn’t enough, they also have the innate ability to fly
backwards, as each wing is capable of moving independently. In short, odonates have evolved into something special, and unlike
many of their contemporaries have been this way for quite some time. These
organisms are incredibly ancient and have hardly changed over the 300 million
years that have elapsed since their original emergence. This lack of alteration
only further demonstrates their exceptional efficiency, as they need not be further
refined by the forces of evolution—they’re already at their peak.
In southern New York State alone there are approximately 128
dragonfly and 55 damselfly species. The Hudson Valley is inundated with numerous
common varieties, along with harboring several rarer species. The high
diversity is bolstered by the large estuary that runs through the heart of the
region. The Hudson River provides crucial habitat to some species which require
the optimal conditions that are only dished out by water bodies that contain
brackish tidal marshes. The hardening of shorelines and the destruction of
marshes has led to vast declines in certain species and are now severely
restricted in distribution.
All odonates require being situated by water—mating,
ovipositing, and the larval stage of the life cycle are all dependent on it. Most
can make due in fresh water, and undoubtedly anyone that has passed by a lake
or swamp in the warmer months has seen countless dragonflies basking in the sun
on reeds or skimming over the water and taping it gently at regular intervals
like a stone being skipped across the surface. The latter sight is when an
odonate is deposting its eggs; each tap is one being released into the water.
When these eggs eventually hatch they enter into the naiad (named after Greek
water nymphs) or larval stage of their lifecycle. They hardly resemble their
adult counterparts, being green-brown or dark brown, with varying degrees of
mottling, so not to stand out in their watery environs where they could easily
be devoured by fish. They also have a comparatively frightening appearance,
resembling something more akin to an underground grub than an organism that will
eventually take to the sky. At this
stage they are entirely aquatic. They also are carnivorous, feeding on other
insects and possibly even small fish at times. Some naiads will remain below
the surface for up to 6 years.
After numerous molts of the exoskeleton (sometimes up to 15),
each time the naiad getting progressively larger in the process, it’s time for
the creature to emerge to the surface and begin its life as a dragonfly or
damselfly. Upon making it to dry land the odonate’s exoskeleton is still
relatively soft and the adult generally must take it easy for a week until it
successfully hardens. During this time the individual will normally recuperate
in the woods or in an isolated field or glade until it is ready to partake in the
rigors of the mating process. Males will frequently compete with one another in
duels for the opportunity to claim the right to mate with females of their claimed
territories.
Best Spots to View
The Mid-Hudson Valley, and more particularly, the undeveloped
Hudson Highlands, contains numerous favorable locations for odonates to thrive
in. In these sheltered and protected areas rare varieties which have been
pushed out elsewhere live in relative peace and thrive among the lush
vegetation and salubrious aquatic environs.
Iona Island Marsh
Common Sneezeweed, Marsh Mallow, and Cardinal Flower
In Bear Mountain State Park in the southern tier of the
Highlands two particularly unique species can be found. On the eastern flank of the park lies Iona
Island. This rocky citadel holds dozens of different odonates which buzz past
your head in copious quantities, similarly to a swarm on gnats on a humid
summer’s day. Among the congregation is
the bright orange Needham’s skimmer. This species inhabits the brackish marshes
surrounding the island, and individuals are often spotted clinging to some of
the ubiquitous reeds of the invasive phragmites.
These creatures are found in only a handful of counties in lower New York.
Orange County is the farthest north they have been documented in the state.
Intermixed with the Needham population is the deceptively similar looking golden-winged
skimmer. From a distance it’s often difficult to tell the two apart.
Needham's Skimmer
Golden-winged Skimmer
Just west of Iona Island lies the Doodletown Brook which
penetrates the narrow vales between Bear and West Mountains. This moderately
sized brook flows through land once occupied by a thriving town, but was completely
abandoned upon creation of the park in the 1960’s, a result of eminent domain.
It’s now essentially a bona fide ghost town, complete with crumbling
foundations, subsiding roads, and forgotten cemeteries two hundred years old
that are gradually being engulfed by the looming forest. Along the dark openings
next to the Doodletown Brook, the primeval looking gray petaltails dart about
in minute quantities. As the name suggests, this species is rather mundane in
appearance, not exhibiting some of its kin’s vibrant color schemes. However, gray
petailtails are unique among all other dragonflies in the eastern half of the
country in that their larvae are not completely aquatic. Instead, they tend to
reside in moist mud beds, living amid low lying vegetation that’s only fed by
minor trickles of water from an adjacent stream or spring. Only 11 locations within New York are known to
harbor this distinctive species.
Doodletown Brook
Farther north, in Orange County, just outside the bounds of the Highlands, the russet-tipped clubtail lives along beaches that line the Hudson near the Moodna Creek area. Uncommon, but not exceptionally rare, these creatures prefer to spend their time along mudflats usually containing freshwater. They’re frequently documented inhabiting inland lakes and streams, but seem to be situated along tidal rivers more commonly. Their large, vivid green-blue eyes and puffed russet colored abdomens makes this an impressive species to identify. The moderately bulkier black-tipped darners also line the shores here, decked out in varying tones of aquamarine.
Moodna Creek
Russet-tipped Clubtail
Black-tipped Darner
Also lying west of the Hudson, Sterling Forest State Park
has a dramatic odonate display. A prime spot for a view is around Sterling
Lake. The 3 mile long loop path that circumnavigates the sizeable water body
passes through forest along the way that’s some of the wildest in the region.
Dense stands of hemlocks border the lake and flow into the depths of the
surrounding mountains as if applied by a painter drawing his brush quickly
across a matte canvas with broad and hurried strokes. Growing among, and atop,
some of the larger glacial erratics that litter the ground in vast boulder
fields are gnarled bushes of mountain laurel that provide the forest with a
thick and impenetrable understory, moderately mixed with low bush blueberries. Both
the eastern and western sides of the lake are flanked by steep, rocky slopes
that abruptly rise from the water’s edge; to the north a shallow and weedy
inlet contains the traces of lively beaver activity. The more mundane southern
outlet has a noisy whitewater stream that always keeps the stones bordering it damp
and cool, with its continual mists and relentless sputtering that only abates
with the harshest of droughts.
Sterling Lake
In the swampy northern portion of the lake many fluvial
shrubs grow along the sandy shoreline. It’s in this location the largest
gathering of odonates present themselves. On a sweet pepperbush one may see a
slaty or widow skimmer resting itself, basking next to the white flower spikes
that appear in the early days of summer, each swaying in the air like a twitching
squirrel’s tail. Or, looking into a weed covered cove see the insects zoom just
above the waterline, taking the occasional break on a slimy, hole-ridden lily
pad.
Slaty Skimmer
Juvenile Widow Skimmer
Now casting your eyes onto the bright yellow sand dozens of
lancet clubtails relax themselves on the beaches, resting as intently as a
fatigued and over-worked vactioner. Their orb-like eyes are of an especially
rare blue, and look as if chunks of turquoise. With their bodies matching the
color of the substrate, these turquoise gems are the only part that stand out
among the golden sands. In several of the stony pockets near the banks,
individuals defend their gravelly kingdoms from invaders, taking to the sky to
duel and once chasing away their would-be usurper, quickly descend again to the
beach in a fluid, almost spiral motion as though they’ve been gently blown by
the wind. Their ability to return to the exact same spot, however, just
demonstrates their graceful and apparently effortless skills. They’re the
figure skaters of the air.
Lancet Clubtail
Autumn Meadowhawk
Stewart State Forest in northern Orange County contains another
diverse assortment of odonates. About half of the 6,700 acre preserve contains
wetlands or moist areas perfect for the establishment of abundant populations.
This property was originally purchased to be included as part of the nearby
Stewart International Airport. In 1982, the area was converted into parkland
when plans to make the airport host supersonic travel fell through and the
large buffer zone necessary for noise abatement was no longer needed.
Swamp in Stewart
Most of the property was residential in the past, evinced by
the many crumbling roads and foundations still extant throughout. There are
around 18 miles of road, although now only passable on foot. The land still
serves utilitarian uses, however. A police shooting range exists in the western
portion and is used quite frequently. New York State also allows local farmers
to cultivate some 400 acres with wheat and corn.
Along some of the shallow ponds and swamps there are broad
meadows consisting of tall grasses and numerous weedy and invasive flowers,
comprising such plants as golden rod, purple loosestrife, asters, and the ever-ubiquitous
dandelion. In most cases, these meadows were purposely created, and continue to
be mowed on a regular basis in order to provide an additional type of habitat
for the park. Apart from the odonates which prowl through these areas, the land
is rich in butterflies, wasps, and even the occasional moth seen during the
light of day, such as the odd, but impressive looking hummingbird moth. While
walking through the high grass one may even come across a bird’s nest
constructed from the same material in which it rests.
Hummingbird Moth Visiting Purple Loosestrife
Unlike their larger cousins, the damselflies exhibit a much
daintier and reserved demeanor, as their name aptly suggests. Frequently they
are seen placidly bouncing from spot to spot and not moving farther than
necessary. Rarely do they show the same level of agitation as the jittery
dragonflies that grow restless at the least bit of disturbance. A resting
damselfly is likely to move if approached, but probably not more than a few
feet at a time, just enough to feel comfortable that harm has been avoided. They
don’t like to make a fuss and draw attention to themselves—they’re much more
covert and drama-free.
Familiar Bluet
Ebony Jewelwing
A unique class of damselflies known as spreadwings, inhabit
the wet environs of Stewart. While a vast majority of damselfies fold their
wings together neatly behind their backs, as a shopper would their hands while
examining the contents of some glass case in a ritzy store, these bold
creatures have their wings fully extended while at rest, in intimation of the
dragonflies. The metallic green-gray swamp spreadwing could well pose as the
models of the odonate world. With their tooth-pick thin abdomens and their
seemingly weightless bodies they would be a perfect fit for the job. While
supporting themselves on some scrap of vegetation with their diminutive
appendages, all as slender as an eyelash, it looks wholly effortless, as though
they’re buoyed by water, gravity never having latched on to these creatures.
Their wings are beautifully wrought, with delicate geometrical lattices stretched
throughout to the max, giving a firm support, reminiscent of a tennis racket
weave. Each structure looks as though threaded from spider thread, but of a
grade and fineness superseding anything an arachnid could produce. The
exquisite needle-work is something only Nature herself could tenderly sew.
Swamp Spreadwing
In the tall grass and shub-filled fields the Halloween
pennants unshyly come into view and show off their beautifully stained calico
wings. The shine and glassy reflections from each brings to mind the ethereal
windows of a European cathedral, especially when the light filters through. Each
pane is softened and warmed by the light; the cold stiffness melts away and life
is breathed into the slumbering scene. Like biblical depictions that embolden religious
piety when illuminated seemingly by the grace of God, so too, does each spotted
wing restore our faith in the land, showing that the wilderness holds an airy
paintbrush and is far more refined than the dim brute we too often imagine. The
pennant’s entire body is a work of art, meticulously sculpted and painted. The
symmetry of form and outline alone amazes.
Halloween Pennant
***
Most who are acquainted with watching the sky for wildlife
are accustomed to the sights and sounds coming solely from the avian variety,
paying little notice to the diverse world of the odonates. While lacking the
delightful calls that birds superbly deliver, dragonflies and damselflies
impress in other ways. Often, their vivid color scheme, usually as rich and
fresh as those reflected from a transient summer rainbow, emblazon the sky like
parade ribbons twirled in the air in rhythmic fashion. Their subtle and indistinct
motions leave interpretation of this mesmerizing show open to the viewer, where
one may at anytime simply wander over to a lake or stream to see a
tranquilizing encore.
