ARGIA 35(2) is available for download on the DSA website

The latest issue of ARGIA is available on the DSA website

This issue contains:

• The first president’s note from our new DSA president, Christopher Beatty.

• In memoriam sections dedicated to both Richard Rowe and Carl Cook.

• Our very first French-language article by authors Michel Savard and Alain Mochon.

• The next Nymph Cove installment, the second half of the Aeshnidae identification (also available for free on the DSA website)

DSA members can login to download the issue.

Amanda Whispell

Editor-in-chief of ARGIA

Species of the Month

July Species of the Month: Minagrion caldense

DSA’s July “Species of the Month” is Minagrion caldense (no common name),  a rare species of damselfly in the family Coenagrionidae. The genus’ five species are found from Northeast Argentina to northern Brazil; this species is only found in Brazil. The various species range from about one-and-a-quarter inches to two-and-a-quarter inches (31-57mm), and are found in slow streams and swampy areas. Follow Brazilian dragonfly chaser Diogo Vilela as he seeks to learn more about this intriguing insect.

Minagrion caldense, young female, November 2018 (copyright Diogo Vilela).

Minagrion caldense

One of the most intriguing and rare species of the Neotropical genus Minagrion is M. caldense, which was described in 1965 from Poços de Caldas (hence, caldense), Minas Gerais state, Brazil. Less than 40 specimens were collected in the 60’s by Professor Newton Santos and no further collections of this species were made in the following decades. This makes M. caldense an enigmatic and rare species, as it was never seen in another location other than Poços de Caldas. 

In 2002, the late Professor Ângelo Machado and his colleague Lúcio Bedê performed a survey in Serra da Canastra National Park (SCNP, ca. 300km from Poços de Caldas), where they collected some specimens of M. caldense, and also found an intriguing “new species” of Minagrion, which they later described as “Minagrion franciscoi” (Machado & Bedê, 2016), based only on males.

 Serra da Canastra National Park, November 2018, (Copyright Diogo Vilela).

During my PhD, I aimed to describe hitherto unknown females, in order to straighten their taxonomy and enable identification in absence of males. Then, our laboratory went to a series of field trips to Serra da Canastra, totaling five expeditions between 2018 and 2020. It was an amazing experience to explore all areas of the park, where we found new species, new records, larvae and…undescribed females!

It was such a thrill when we finally found the female of “Minagrion franciscoi”, a robust Coenagrionidae that stands out next to the small Homeoura, Acanthagrion and Franciscobasis that shares the same habitat. However, in the midst of all excitement of our new findings, we started to see some major resemblances between “M. franciscoi” and the enigmatic M. caldense and realized that perhaps we were dealing with the same species. In his description of M. caldense, Santos stated that the male abdominal segments seven and eight were darker in relation to the others. In the same region, M. franciscoi had also darker coloration, with the addition of two gorgeous blue dorsal spots, that were the main character to separate “M. franciscoi” from the other Congeners. 

Minagrion caldense, teneral female, Serra da Canastra National Park, November 2018, (Copyright Diogo Vilela).

Santos described females as having the same subtle color changes as the males. Based on Santos’s description, we went further in our analysis: (i) we visited the Museu Nacional of Rio de Janeiro (destroyed by a fire in 2018), two months before the tragedy, and took photos of the holotype of M. caldense to perform the morphological comparison with M. franciscoi; (ii) as we haven’t spotted any mating event, we performed a molecular analysis to associate the males of M. franciscoi with the females; (iii) we performed a dissection analysis on the collected females, to determine which were young and mature by the presence/absence of eggs. 

Our results show that “M. franciscoi” was, in fact, a junior synonym of M. caldense, and our female analysis demonstrate that the females went through a severe coloration change during their ontogenetic development, being yellowish/orange as young, and with a beautiful blue/black pattern when mature. Additionally, young males do not present the blue abdominal spots. Perhaps Santos dealt only with young ones.

Male of “Minagrion franciscoi”, later discovered to be a junior synonym of M. caldense, November 2018 (Copyright Diogo Vilela).

Females of Minagrion caldense: above, the body coloration of the young female; below, the same for the mature female November 2018 (Ccopyright Diogo Vilela).

Despite all our studies, we still have several gaps to fill in our understanding of Minagrion: the larvae are unknown, ontogenetic color changes are not known to other species of the genus, and the knowledge on their behavior are very poor. This species is currently assessed as “Vulnerable” by the International Union for Conservation of Nature, due its restricted range of occurrence and for occurring in a single protected area, where it might be threatened by ecotourism.

Diogo Vilela, Serra da Canastra National Park, November 2018 (Copyright Rhainer Ferreira).

It was such a great experience working so closely with this species. I find them fantastic!

Diogo Vilela is a Brazilian odonatologist. He studies dragonflies since 2010, and ever since he published studies on behavioral ecology, distribution and taxonomy, where most of his contributions are concentrated. Contact him at deeogoo@gmail.com

Species of the Month

June Species of the Month: Dot-tailed Whiteface (Leucorrhinia intacta)

June’s DSA species of the month is the Dot-tailed whiteface (Leucorrhinia intacta). Part of the large family Libellulidae (the skimmers or perchers), it is on the small side for dragonflies, at about an inch to an inch-and-a-quarter long (approximately 29-33 mm). Look for it in lakes and ponds from southern Canada, south to Kentucky, east to Nova Scotia and west to California (dipping down into New Mexico). Follow Illinois dragonfly chaser  Gail Chastain as she looks for this common---but also sometimes elusive---species.

The Search for the Dot-tailed Whiteface

Field guides say that the Dot-tailed Whiteface dragonfly is common throughout southern Canada and the northern parts of the United States. I would not debate these experts, it’s just that although my husband, Steve, and I monitor a number of places in Illinois, we have not seen them at any of our sites. So, for the last few years we have traveled up to LeRoy Oakes Forest Preserve in St Charles, IL, about 45 miles west of Chicago, to find them. Leroy Oakes has a variety of natural features; prairie, woodland, creek, seeps and more. It’s not too far from where we live in Wheaton, IL, and they seem to have a nice population.

Dot-tailed Whiteface (Leucorrhinia intacta), LeRoy Oakes, FP (2021). Photo by Gail Chastain.

As its family name indicates, the Dot-tailed Whiteface can be seen perching on objects during the day. There are seven Whitefaced  Leucorrhinia species in the United States with the Dot-tailed Whiteface being the most widespread, found in 34 states in the U.S.,  and 10 Canadian provinces. Its conservation status changes with location, but overall it is considered to be abundant and secure.

Leucorrhinia is an appropriate name of this group of dragonflies. Leuco comes from the Greek meaning “white” as in leukocyte,  the white blood cell. Rhina also comes from the ancient Greek meaning “nose.” The Dot-tailed species name intacta is a little more difficult. Intacta is from the Latin for “unblemished/chaste”. One suggestion I found when I investigated was that this referred to the lone spot on the male, but there is nothing to support this. So, I guess we can make up what we want!

The Dot-tailed Whiteface has a very apt common name. The male generally has a solid black body and legs, and both a yellow dot on the seventh segment of the abdomen,  a creamy white face, and a small black basal wing spot.

Dot-tailed Whiteface (Leucorrhinia intacta), LeRoy Oakes, FP (2002). Photo by Gail Chastain.

The female Is more colorful. She has multiple yellow spots along the dorsal and side of the abdomen, and the last yellow spot on segment seven may be large and square-shaped.  Females also have yellow stripes on the side (lateral surface) of segments of three and four. As the female matures, the dorsal spots will fade. When this happens, it’s easy to confuse females with males. Some females will also have a conspicuous amber patch where the wing attaches to the thorax.

Female Dot-tailed Whiteface (Leucorrhinia intacta), LeRoy Oakes, FB (2021). Photo by Gail Chastain.

Why are they at Leroy Oakes Forest Preserve, and not in other areas where we monitor closer to home?  Probably because of the quiet waters in this preserve, which is their preferred environment.

Mallard (Anas platyrhynchos), On Quiet Pond, LeRoy Oakes, FP (2021). Gail Chastain.

These dragonflies look for wetlands such as bogs, marshes, swamps, sloughs and very slow streams with low aquatic plants to perch on. You can find them basking on the lily leaves on the water, or on vegetation nearby.

Dot-tailed Whiteface on water Forget-Me-Not (Myosotis scorpiodes), LeRoy Oakes, FB (2021). Photo by Gail Chastain.

Dot-tailed Whiteface (Leucorrhinia intacta), LeRoy Oakes, FP. Photo by Gail Chastain.

The Dot-tailed Whiteface dragonfly emerges in late spring here in Illinois, and flies a good part of the summer. You won’t have to look up for them! They don’t fly very high. With a territory that may be only four yards wide, they don’t fly very far, either. They prefer to stay near the water.

Dot-tailed Whiteface on Water-Lily (Nupar lutea), LeRoy Oakes, FP (2021). Photo by Gail Chastain.

Although the Dot-tailed Whiteface is not necessarily an active defender of its territory, the male will actively guard the female he has mated with while she lays her eggs by flying above her as she oviposits. The males may also grab or clasp other males in a behavior that is called “karate guarding,” and will hold them in tandem to keep that intruding male away from a female.

Dot-tailed Whiteface (Leucorrhinia intacta), LeRoy Oakes, FP (2021). Photo by Gail Chastain.

It’s a fun dragonfly to find and photograph. The bonus is that when we do find the Dot-tailed Whiteface dragonfly, we find so much more.

Eastern Tiger Swallowtail (Papilio glaucus) LeRoy Oakes FP. Photo by Gail Chastain.

Green Frog (Lithobates clamitans). LeRoy Oakes FP 2021. Photo by Gail Chastain.

Just one of the many perks of dragonfly chasing!  

Gail Chastain has been an avid naturalist and photographer for most of her life but retirement allowed her to further these interests. In 2012, Gail started a wildlife monitoring project at Fermilab in Batavia, IL. Later, her focus changed to insect monitoring with her husband Steve Baginski. Since 2018, Gail and Steve have been  Odonata monitors with the Morton Arboretum in Lisle, IL, at multiple sites.

Species of the Month

May Species of the Month: Blue Dasher (Pachydiplax longipennis)

Male Blue Dasher dragonfly (Pachydiplax longipennis), Schulenberg Prairie, Lisle, IL (undated).

Our May DSA species of the month is the Blue Dasher dragonfly (Pachydiplax longipennis) in the skimmer family Libellulidae. It’s the only member of its genus. Ode expert Dennis Paulson notes the size is variable; with a range of 28-45 mm (one to 1.7 inches); and is often abundant where it’s found. Look for it in ponds and lakes in most of the central to eastern United States, north to Canada and south into Mexico. Join dragonfly chaser and DSA blog coordinator Cindy Crosby as her blue dasher dragonfly encounters lead to a face-off with a bigger species.

Adventures in Dragonfly chasing

Mama bison isn’t happy. And if mama bison ain’t happy… .

Bison (Bison bison), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL. (2021)

I’m standing knee deep in a pond where I’ve fled with my binoculars, camera, net and clipboard. Just moments ago at Nachusa Grasslands in Franklin Grove, IL—90 miles west of Chicago—I was strolling along the shoreline, making hash marks on my data sheet. I’m one of a dozen or so citizen scientists here who volunteer to identify and count dragonflies and damselflies from March-October; just another way to measure the health of our wetlands, streams, and ponds. It is also a way to add data to the state of Illinois’ repository of insect information. This pond is full of the typical dragonfly species found in Illinois. 

Pond at Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL. (2017)

Twelve-spotted skimmers. Eastern amberwings. Common white-tails. And then, there are the blue dashers. They are a common sight in the Illinois prairies and ponds I often hike, and I can count on tallying numerous individuals in the summer. Very predictable. Not too exciting.

Male Blue Dasher dragonfly (Pachydiplax longipennis), The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL. (2021)

Occasionally, an unusual dragonfly will show up. I have had a single sighting of the four-spotted skimmer at this Nature Conservancy preserve. It’s only one of two times I’ve seen it in my more than 17 years of dragonfly monitoring.

Four-spotted skimmer dragonfly (Libellula quadrimaculata), Schulenberg Prairie, The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, IL. (2021)

So, I hike and patiently count the usual ode suspects. Widow skimmer. Eastern amberwing. Twelve-spotted skimmer. Twelve-spotted skimmer.  Another twelve-spotted skimmer. Then, I add hash marks for each blue dasher to my data sheet—so many blue dashers!---while alert for anything flying or perched that looks unusual. Who knows what might show up? I’m hoping for something exciting. Sometimes blue dasher dragonfly counting is a little monotonous.

Be careful what you wish for! Nachusa has a herd of about 125 bison, the first brought here in 2014 as part of an effort to restore tallgrass prairie. Illinois is known as “the prairie state,” but much of the prairie here — including the prairie wetlands—has been lost to agriculture and development. Many prairies were drained by farmers to make the wetlands dry enough to plow.

Of the approximately 22 million acres that once blanketed Illinois, only about 2,300 original prairie acres remain. The adult male bison who roam Nachusa Grasslands can weigh up to 2,000 lbs; female bison about half that much. Heavy? Yes. And also fast. Bison can run up to 40 miles per hour.

Regal Fritillary Butterfly (Speyeria idalia), Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL. (2021)

With the loss of that vast grasslands and its associated ephemeral ponds and streams came the loss of odonata habitat. I’m grateful to have almost 4,000 remnant or restored prairie acres to explore with other monitors, and to have the opportunity to observe what dragonflies and damselflies visit and reproduce here. Blue dashers may be plentiful, but they are also fun to watch. After mating, blue dasher males hover guard the females (flying circles around them above the water) while the females oviposit by tapping their abdomen tips into the water. I often see the males perched at even intervals along the shoreline.

Today, however, lulled into daydreaming as I counted familiar dragonflies, I’ve goofed. I’m usually on high alert for the presence of bison. So I’m dismayed when I cross a small hill close to the pond and there they are. A mama bison with her baby. 

Bison (Bison bison) calf, Nachusa Grasslands, Franklin Grove, IL.

Mama bison are very protective of their calves and this one is no exception. Her head jerks up as I pop into view and her eyes meet mine. Uh, oh. I quickly backtrack toward the pond, hoping she’ll return to grazing. No luck. Here she comes, over the rise. Stumbling through the tallgrass, I wade into the pond, trying to blend in with the reeds and cattails. Slurp. Slurp. My knee-high rubber boots have never moved through the muddy pond bottom so fast. I look over my shoulder and stand still. Bison have notoriously bad eyesight, so my lack of motion should cause her to lose interest. She stands on the hill and looks in my direction for what seems like hours, but in reality, was only minutes. Long minutes. Then, shaking her head, she turns and moves back over the hill.

My legs are wobbly as I retrace my path back to my car. One of the reasons I love chasing dragonflies is the encounters with other creatures I see along the way. Birds. Butterflies. Blue dasher dragonflies.

Female Blue Dasher dragonfly (Pachydiplax longipennis), Belmont Prairie, Downers Grove, IL (2016).

This bison encounter, however, will hopefully be my last up-close-and-personal one. I’ll never call counting blue dasher dragonflies boring again.

Cindy Crosby is a volunteer dragonfly steward who coordinates two teams of about a dozen monitors each; one team at Nachusa Grasslands in Franklin Grove, IL, a Nature Conservancy site, and another at The Morton Arboretum in Lisle, IL. She is the author of  Chasing Dragonflies: A Natural, Cultural, and Personal History (Northwestern University Press), Tallgrass Conversations: In Search of the Prairie Spirit (Ice Cube Press) and  The Tallgrass Prairie: An Introduction (Northwestern University Press). Cindy coordinates the DSA “Species of the Month” blog and loves to garden, hike and bake. She is also a prairie steward who blogs each week about dragonflies, prairie, and gardening at “Tuesdays in the Tallgrass at Wordpress.” Her natural history classes and programs are found at www.cindycrosby.com.

Species of the Month

April Species of the Month: Exclamation Damsel (Zoniagrion exclamationis)

Exclamation Damsel (Zoniagrion exclamationis) Sebastopol, Sonoma County, California. Photo by Dave Biggs (2014)

Our April DSA species of the month is the Exclamation Damsel (Zoniagrion exclamationis) in the family Coenagrionidae. Size-wise, its length is 33-35 mm (just under one-and-a-half inches). It is also the lone species in the genus Zoniagrion. The damselfly is a California endemic with two blue exclamation marks on top of the thorax and jaunty blue eyespots. Males have dark abdomens with blue on S7-9, while females only have blue on S8-9. Exclamation Damsels breed in mud-lined creeks, and may be found in wooded streams. Join dragonfly chaser Kathy Biggs as she tells about her encounter with this species, and how it changed how dragonfly chasers learn about it today.

How the Exclamation Damsel Got Its Common Name

Back in the very early days of dragonflies, species only had scientific names. In November of 1996, the Dragonfly Society of the Americas naming committee came up with English common names that the membership could vote on. One of those common names kept me from making my very first Odonata identification. But then I, very much a newbie, helped give a common name to a species.

I live just an hour north of San Francisco and about 12 miles from the Pacific Coast. In 1996, I studied the dragonflies at my newly created wildlife pond. By 1997, armed with the new list of common names, I decided to look for some odonates at a nearby park. 

The first day of looking for dragonflies, I found a Forktail-like damselfly (Ischnura) with blue on the thorax and a dark abdomen with a blue ‘tail’ that even to my beginner’s eyes looked quite a bit larger than the Forktails at my backyard pond. What could it be?

Female Exclamation Damsel (Zoniagrion exclamationis), Sonoma County, California. Photo by Jim Burns (June, 2018).

Looking at my list of California dragonflies, I found Dancers. Nope, couldn’t be a dancer, too much blue color.  Bluets? Nope, couldn’t be a bluet, too much blue on them also. Forktails? Too small. Then, there was the Sierra Damsel. Nope, I wasn’t in the Sierras. I was in a lowland area. 

I was baffled, what could it be?

Dennis Paulson had seen my pond list of dragonflies online and had sent me one gentle correction. My Powdered Dancer (Argia moesta) was more likely a mature female Western Forktail (Ischnura perparva), he told me. Aha! Dennis might be able to identify my unknown damsel! I contacted him, and he told me that it was the Sierra Damsel (Zoniagrion exclamationis).

I felt miffed! The common name had thrown me astray. I complained to Dennis about it. He then said something to the effect of I’m on the naming committee and this first year the committee will entertain any suggested changes. He encouraged we Californians to come up with a more suitable new common name. 

My husband Dave, Tim Manolis, Andy Rehn, and myself started thinking about names. We realized that to non-Californians, the name “Sierra” brought to mind our state. But to us, it meant high mountains. And this was not a mountain species.

Female Exclamation Damsel (Zoniagrion exclamationis), Sonoma County, California. Photo by Bob Berhstock. (1999)

As we searched for a likely name, it turned out that each name we chose was already taken. Shadow Damsel? Zoniagrion exclamationis likes dappled shade, but Shadow Damsel was already in use for Palaemnema domina. Other names just didn’t seem right. 

Finally, we realized that this damselfly has two blue exclamation marks atop its thorax. Its scientific name includes “exclamationis.” Why not name it the Exclamation Damsel? It was a mouthful, but we submitted it anyway. Then, we waited. The vote wasn’t unanimous, but the name “Exclamation Damsel” prevailed. I was so excited! 

Now, I can say I’ve had a role in naming a gorgeous damselfly.

Kathy Biggs, Sonoma County, California. Photo by Dave Biggs. (2000)

Our guest blogger for April is Kathy Biggs, who has been a nature lover all her life. When she built a wildlife pond in her Sebastopol, California backyard in 1996, dragonflies arrived and she found her true passion. Wanting to share her passion, she developed websites for her wildlife ponds, California Dragonflies, Southwest Dragonflies and most recently A First Guide to the Dragonflies of Jalisco. The websites matured and grew into Kathy's becoming the author of California’s first Dragonfly Guide, Common Dragonflies of California, the Southwest’s first dragonfly guide, Common Dragonflies of Southwest, a dragonfly color and learn book and her latest publication, Dragonflies of the Greater Southwest. Kathy manages the Groups CalOdes and Building Ponds for Wildlife.  Kathy is the vetter for California on Odonata Central, and iNaturalist California and Jalisco, MX. She hopes she can inspire you to get to know the dragonflies and the wetlands that support them.

Species of the Month

March Species of the Month: Sphagnum Sprite (Nehalennia gracilis)

Sphagnum Sprite (Nehalennia gracilis) (male). David Smith July 25 or August 4, 2022 at Elfin Bog near Hibbing, Minnesota.

The Sphagnum Sprite (Nehalennia gracilis) is one of six  members of the genus, three of which are in temperate North America; the latter have overlapping ranges and a shared preference for boggy habitats and are a tiny one inch or so in length.  Male Sphagnum Sprites, in the family Coenagrionidae, are distinguished most readily in the field by the solid blue color of S8-S10 and by an elongated occipital bar. Females are set apart most readily from other sprite females by the black and blue pattern of S8-S10 as well as the occipital bar. Under magnification there are additional distinctive features in the male appendages and female prothorax. During the summer 2022 quest for the Elfin Skimmer, David Smith and his wife, Suzanne Winckler,  were surprised to discover the Sphagnum Sprite in Minnesota. Read on to hear more about their adventures.

Two Sprites, Please!

Nehalennia, a word of possible Celtic origin meaning “she near the sea” (de Bernardo Stempel 2004), is a goddess of multiple presumed powers worshipped over centuries in northern Europe. Nehalennia is also the name Sélys Longchamps (1850) assigned to a new genus of diminutive damsels in the family Coenagrionidae. Sphagnum Sprite is similar in size and overall appearance to the more common Sedge Sprite (N. irene). Each have flight times from May to August, and the two species share habitat preferences and are often found together within their overlapping ranges. I should note that the Southern Sprite (N. integricollis), whose range is restricted to the southeastern US, also is similar in appearance to and can co-occur with Sphagnum Sprite, but this is a species unfamiliar to me.

Range maps for Sedge Sprite (Nehalennia irene; upper) and Sphagnum Sprite (N. gracilis; lower).  Data from OdonataCentral.org.

In Albert P. Morse’s original description of Sphagnum Sprite (1895), he noted his type specimens from Massachusetts were “Taken near stagnant pools in peat-bogs in company with irene, with which species it has hitherto been confused.” The photos in Figure 2 perhaps highlight how separating these species could evade casual observation. 

Photographic comparison of Sphagnum (a and b) and Sedge Sprite (c and d). Males (a and d) and females (b and c).  All photographs taken by the author on July 25 or August 4, 2022 at Elfin Bog near Hibbing, Minnesota.

I was not prepared to see Sphagnum Sprite on our Elfin Skimmer outing near Hibbing, Minnesota, this past July 25.  We saw numerous sprites among the floating sphagnum mats at Elfin Bog, as seen here.

Suzanne Winckler taking photographs at Elfin Bog on August 4, 2022.  This bog is typical of others in the area with a floating mat of sphagnum moss species interspersed with Cotton Grass (Eriophorum angustifolium) and Purple Pitcher Plant (Sarracenia purpurea) and surrounded by Black Spruce (Picea mariana).

I was initially calling all of these Sedge Sprites but was nonetheless left a bit ill-at-ease with several of the “Sedge Sprites” we were identifying. Some just looked different.  As always, I took photos; only after carefully examining these photographs on the computer at home and comparing with sprite entries in field guides, did I realize we had seen Sphagnum Sprite, a new species for us and, as it turns out, for the state of Minnesota.  

That realization mandated a return trip on August 4 to Elfin Bog where, with forethought, we enjoyed seeing Sphagnum Sprites alongside Sedge Sprites and a few more Elfin Skimmers.  For me, this experience underscores how useful I have found photography as it gives me permanent access to the structural details to better appreciate and identify odonates.

David Smith is a retired molecular biologist who is now big into photography of birds, butterflies, and, of course, odonates.  He and Suzanne Winckler split time between their home bases in Embarrass, Minnesota and Álamos, Sonora, México while pursuing nature in many places.  He can be reached at smith.david26@gmail.com.

Species of the Month

February Species of the Month: Elfin Skimmer (Nannothemis bella)

Elfin Skimmer (Nannothemis bella) (male), photo copyright Suzanne Winckler, August 4, 2022., near Hibbing, MN.

February’s DSA Species of the Month is the Elfin Skimmer (Nannothemis bella). Nannothemis is a monotypic genus in the dragonfly family Libellulidae. The Elfin Skimmer is the smallest dragonfly in North America. It averages .75” to 1” (19.05 cm to 25.4 cm) in length. Reports of the species on Odonata Central are scattered from eastern Canada south through the eastern U.S. from New England to the Gulf states. However, N. bella is restricted almost exclusively to bogs, which are few and far between, difficult to access, and poorly protected within the species’ range. Read on to discover how Suzanne Winckler and her husband, David Smith set out to find the Elfin Skimmer in the boreal bogs of northeastern Minnesota on the western edge of its range where it is poorly known.

David and I spend ode season-–-summer-–-in northeastern Minnesota. One of our go-to resources is Kurt Mead’s Dragonflies of the North Woods. One day, when skimming through his guide, I said to David, “I want to see the Elfin Skimmer.”

Range map of the Elfin Skimmer (Nannothemis bella) courtesy Odonata Central.

Besides its distinction as the smallest dragonfly in North America, the other lure of the Elfin Skimmer is where it is most likely to be found: in floating bogs with short vegetation. I love floating bogs! No other landscape is quite so magical to behold. No other landscape is quite so hilarious to try to walk around on. Who cares if these waterlogged places are often swarming with mosquitoes and deer flies in the summer?

Floating bog near Hibbing, Minnesota on July 25, 2022 where we found the Elfin Skimmer (Nannothemis bella), photo copyright Suzanne Winckler.

David pinpointed a bog on Google Earth that appeared to require the least bushwhacking. Last summer, on July 25, we drove to state land near Hibbing, Minnesota, and found a highway pull-off to park. Within moments of walking on an old logging road through the forest, slogging a bit as the terrain got marshier, we came upon a glittering pond surrounded by sedge-covered hummocks of sphagnum. It was as if we had stepped through an invisible threshold into another realm. We squished into the bog and started scanning.

It seemed like only a few minutes. I was looking down, searching the bonsai forest of sphagnum moss, sedges, pitcher plants, Labrador tea, cottongrass, and cranberries, when, bam, an Elfin Skimmer spontaneously materialized three feet away. “David, David,” I said in a loud whisper, “Elfin Skimmer, Elfin Skimmer, female.” He squeegeed  over my way.

I took my first photos. I looked at her through my binoculars. I simply stared at her with my naked eyes. She was vespine and so tiny. I’m talking Thumbelina tiny! She was smaller in length than the first joint of my thumb. Close-up photos fail to capture such tininess.

Female Elfin Skimmer (Nannothemis bella), photo copyright Suzanne Winckler, near Hibbing, MN, July 25, 2022.

We regained our composure, sort of. We spent another couple of euphoric hours looking for odes, tallying a total of 11 species. 

Calico Pennant (Celithemis elisa) male, one of 10 other species we saw besides Elfin Skimmer, photo copyright Suzanne Winckler, near Hibbing, MN, July 25, 2022.

Lyre-tipped Spreadwing (Lestes unguiculatus), another great odonate on our first search for Elfin Skimmer in northern Minnesota, July 25, 2022, photo copyright Suzanne Winckler.

As for the Elfin Skimmer, we encountered 12 females and 1 male.

This male Elfin Skimmer (Nannothemis bella) perched next to a pitcher plant shows how truly tiny N. bella is. This individual was photographed by Suzanne Winckler on a subsequent visit to the bog near Hibbing, MN, on August 4, 2022. Photo copyright Suzanne Winckler.

As we slogged around in the floating bog, our rubber boots made sucking sounds every time we extracted a foot up out of the sphagnum to advance another unsteady step. Several times when I was poised on a mat of sphagnum photographing an odonate, I felt myself sinking and tilting at the same time. It crossed my mind that if I had been out there alone and not made some quick realignments, I would sink into the bog.

Perhaps I’d be found mummified 10,000 years hence by some archeologist. And no one would ever know I vanished in my quest to see an Elfin Skimmer.

Suzanne Winckler is a semi-retired journalist who shares an interest in the natural world with David Smith. They live in the woods in rural Minnesota, US, and in a small town in Sonora, Mexico. 

Species of the Month

2023

January Species of the Month: Familiar Bluet (Enallagma civile)

Male Familiar Bluet (Enallagma civile) damselfly,  Floyd County, Texas. Photo by Danielle Husband (26 July 2021).

Our DSA January’s Species of the Month is the Familiar Bluet (Enallagma civile) in the Pond or Narrow-winged Damselfly family Coenagrionidae. Its length is approximately 28-39 mm (about one to one-and-a-half inches). The Familiar Bluet is one of the most common and widespread damselflies found in Canada, the U.S., and Mexico. Join Texas Tech McIntyre Lab graduate student Danielle Husband on a beautiful day of odonate research in the Texas Panhandle as she learns to appreciate this well-known species.

An Ode to the Common Ode

In 2019, I started my masters at Texas Tech in the McIntyre Lab. Little did I know I was entering a whole new world! Odonates, as my advisor Dr. Nancy McIntyre says, are the gateway insects that birders obsess over. So, I hung up my  10 x 42 birding binoculars, picked up a butterfly net, and headed to west Texas.

I admit that I knew next to nothing about odonates when I began. Sure, I could  identify a few of the larger, more colorful dragonflies, but show me a blue damselfly and I was about as lost as they come. Fortunately, I had three tools at my disposal to guarantee odo-success: my advisor, Dr. Nancy McIntyre; Dennis Paulson’s Dragonflies and Damselflies of the West, and John Abbott’s Damselflies of Texas.  

Male Familiar Bluet (Enallagma civile) damselfly perched in a playa, Floyd County, Texas. Photo by Danielle Husband (26 July 2021)

For my master’s degree research, I had to correctly identify adult odonates in order to report the species richnesses of four generalized wetland types. To put it in context, there are more than one hundred reported odonate species in the Texas Panhandle. I had my work cut out for me.

Boy, did the humble Familiar Bluet (Enallagma civile) throw me for a few loops in the early days. For some reason, my untrained eye wanted to turn every Familiar Bluet into a different flashy bluet species. Most afternoons I would send my advisor brown or blue damselfly photos, to which she would reply, “E. civile”.  Again! Soon enough, however, I learned to identify these common damselflies.

Male Familiar Bluet (Enallagma civile) damselfly in hand, Floyd County, Texas. Photo by Danielle Husband (26 July 2021)

As I worked on my degree, I spent a lot of time writing and calling landowners to ask for permission to survey wetlands on their property.  I lucked out with one beautiful “playa” site (similar to a desert basin) in Floyd County, Texas. It recently had been filled with rainwater…and odes! Familiar Bluets were sunning on any perch-able surface in this stunning wetland. It remains one of my favorite damselfly memories.

A lush Texas Panhandle playa on a clear day, Floyd County, Texas.  Photo by Danielle Husband (26 July 2021).

Eventually,  I  came to appreciate the “familiarity” of the Familiar Bluet. They were consistently at every field site I visited. From urban lakes to rural wetlands, they showed up in all their blue, gray, or brown-colored glory.

Familiar Bluet damselflies in wheel perched on edge vegetation,  Floyd County, Texas.  Photo by Danielle Husband (26 July 2021).

At the start of 2023, here’s a toast to new species! But also, a reminder to always appreciate the familiar. Happy New Year!

Danielle Husband earned her masters in biology from Texas Tech in 2022. While in grad school, she served on the Worldwide Dragonfly Society’s social media team. In spring 2021, she was recipient of the DSA’s Odonate Research Support Grant. Today she is seeking employment through the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service to continue contributing to conservation. You can get in touch with her at dhusband94@gmail.com or on Instagram @danielle.husband.

Species of the Month

December Species of the Month: Black-lined Flatwing (Heteragrion calendulum)

Heteragrion calendulum (Male). Unfortunately, the high humidity destroyed our cameras and these are the best photos we could get. Photo by Juliana Sandoval-H.

Our DSA December Species of the Month is Heteragrion calendulum (Black-lined Flatwing) in the family Heteragrionidae. Its length is approximately 33 mm, and its range is from the south of Costa Rica to Colombia. Follow DSA webmaster Juliana Sandoval’s adventures as she encounters this rare species.

An Unintentional Find

Many of these blog posts look at the efforts of finding, photographing or collecting a species. My story is no exception. It’s a story of the fortunate event that led to the finding of an unusual species. It is a species that Indiana banker Edward Bruce (“E.B.”)  Williamson, a prominent entomologist and devoted naturalist, was looking for more than one hundred years ago. Williamson had a passion for dragonflies and damselflies which took him on expeditions from the Amazon jungles to Caribbean islands. He described many species and compiled one of the world’s most important Odonate collections.

I was born in Colombia, a megadiverse country, where I have been fortunate to study biology. Because of this, I have been involved in different projects that allowed me to live for long seasons in amazing jungles in the Amazon, the Choco biogeographical region (considered the most diverse area in the world), and other Andean and inter-Andean locations in Colombia.

One of these places is a small town, Santa Cecilia (Risaralda), located at the foothills of the western Cordillera Occidental in Colombia, facing the vast Chocoan jungle. Santa Cecilia has a short but harsh story. Originally, native tribes were the only ones that inhabited this land; then, a couple of hundred years ago, afro communities reached the territory escaping from slavery, more recently, in the 1980s, the first highway brought in “development”, and with it, lumber trucks.  By the year 2005, the horrors of war made this little town of less than 400 an unwelcome place. Today, thanks to a great improvement in the political situation, the population has increased to almost 9,000 inhabitants. Despite its difficult history, Santa Cecilia is a lovely multicultural place, surrounded by the crystalline rivers and a dense jungle that houses thousands of known and unknown species.

The streams around Santa Cecilia. Photo by Cornelio A. Bota Sierra.

The most pristine jungle areas require a steep, hilly hike. This story takes place in “Quebrada Ranas de Cristal” (Crystal Frogs Stream), so named for its abundance of Glass Frogs in the amphibian family Centrolenidae. To reach this place requires a muddy hike from Santa Cecilia to the first hydration station, which passes the beautiful Mumburutó stream at 500 meters (1,650 ft). We tried not to disturb the Sunbittern (Eurypyga helias) which nested over the ravine, then resumed the hike to our destination at 650 meters (2,100 ft). We visited the stream frequently, and while it was a difficult hike, it offered the reward of seeing lots of birds, mammals, snakes, and bullet ants. Of course, there were also amazing odonates, like the Giant Helicopter Damselflies (Megaloprepus caerolatus), Shadowdamsels (Palaemnema spp.), Clubtails (Gomphidae), Flatwings (Heteragrion spp.), Marta’s Flatwings (Philogenia martae), Coppery coras (Miocora aurea), many Dancers (Argia spp.), Skimmers (Orthemis spp.), Tropical Woodskimmers (Uracis imbuta), Rubyspots (Hetaerina spp.), and some Dragonlets (Erythrodiplax spp.) among others.

The “Quebrada Ranas de Cristal” is at the heart of the mountains. Photo by Cornelio A. Bota Sierra.

But odonates are exigent creatures that love to fly on sunny days. If you take into account that rainfall here is around 6,500 millimeters (254 inches) per year, sunshine is unusual. Often there is a sunny sky in the morning, then dense clouds move in before midday. Occasionally, sunshine appears through a gap in the clouds. When it did, we had to be ready. Dragons and damsels go crazy when the sun shines, even for just a few minutes. 

The morning of February 16, 2017,  was no different, dense clouds started settling over our heads. After looking for a while, Cornelio A. Bota Sierra and I decided it was time to start our long hike back. Then, the sun decided to shine one more time. In my memory, I have the vivid image of two small but very bright red damsels coming down to the stream among the vegetation. Cornelio was leading the way, and as always, he had his net ready. Before I could say something, he had already trapped both damsels. 

I did not recognize this species! I asked Cornelio what species they were, and to my surprise, Cornelio was as clueless as I was. When we took them out of the net, I could see it was the most beautiful damsel I have ever seen in my life. It had a glittery bright gold frons and a bright red abdomen. Cornelio, an expert taxonomist, was still clueless.

The clouds over the mountains that we needed to hike to get to the stream. Photo used with the permission of Cornelio A. Bota Sierra.

We went back, very excited about this mysterious damsel. But the excitement grew when we finally figured out its identity and the story behind this species. One hundred years before, on February 17, 1917, Williamson was on an expedition in the Magdalena region in Colombia, where he found the first and only male known (and type specimen) of this species. He named it Heteragrion calendulum, based on “the brilliant metallic areas on the vertex”. Between the lines of his scientific text, you can read that his excitement about finding this specimen was no less than ours. That, and the mysticism behind the 100 years gap—almost to the exact date—gave us the feeling of closeness with Williamson. 

In Williamson’s text, he describes his unsuccessful efforts to find another specimen. We were fortunate to find the female, previously unknown. Since his encounter, no one had reported seeing this species again.

Heteragrion calendulum (Female). Photo by Juliana Sandoval-H.

Luck, a little sunshine, and being at the right place at the right time allowed us to rediscover this long-lost species. In the end, we completed Williamson’s effort to find more specimens of this species in Colombia. Cornelio and I fear for its future, however. The type locality–where the species was first encountered — is long gone. We hope that the vast Chocoan jungle lasts as a refuge for this and many other species that have lost their original habitat.

Juliana Sandoval-H, the DSA webmaster, has spent most of her academic life exploring Tropical jungles, mainly in search of Odonates and birds. She is one of the four authors of the field guide “Dragonflies of the Colombian Cordillera Occidental, a look from Tatama”. You can reach her at julisando@gmail.com.

Species of the Month

November Species of the Month: Blue-fronted Dancer (Argia apicalis)

Male Blue-fronted Dancer (Argia apicalis) damselfly. Photograph taken in Mercer County, New Jersey, by Amanda Whispell.

Our DSA November’s Species of the Month is the Blue-fronted Dancer (Argia apicalis) in the Pond or Narrow-winged Damselfly family Coenagrionidae. Its length is approximately 33-40 mm (around one-and-a-half inches). The Blue-fronted Dancer has a large range that begins at the Mississippi River and spans most of the eastern part of North America, save for the far north. Join dragon chaser and ARGIA journal editor Dr. Amanda Whispell as she discovers the joy of Odonates, and a life-long career calling.

Tiny Insect - Big Passion

My story with the Blue-fronted Dancer (Argia apicalis) begins in graduate school at Rutgers University. I had not actually considered studying insects –– my undergraduate work was in marine science. In truth, I selected entomology as my doctoral program on a bit of a whim. What I wanted to study was animal behavior. When my life pulled me to New Jersey for graduate school the only person I found studying behavior at Rutgers University was Dr. Mike May, in the entomology department, but he was planning to retire and wasn’t advising new PhD students.

I was disappointed he didn’t want another student, but I decided that I would go through with applying anyway and that I would worry about the advisor down the road. I was accepted to the program and for the first year I focused on coursework. I had not taken any entomology courses in the past, save for one unit in invertebrate biology, so there was a lot for me to learn. But the idea of working with Mike was still in my brain. I just had to figure out how to convince him he wanted one last student.

When it was time for me to start my research, I approached Mike again. This time I asked him if there had ever been any particular research question or system on which he had hoped to have a student focus, but that had not come to fruition. He said he did. I then told him that I would not only be happy to study that system but that I would be willing to do so in a fairly “hands off” sort of manner, so that he could get on with the business of beginning his retirement, if he agreed to be my advisor. And to my delight, he finally did!

Mike gave me a lot of background information on color changing odonates in general and on one species of damselfly, Argia apicalis, the Blue-fronted Dancer. It is aptly named, as it has the brightest blue front or face you will find on a damsel in the northeastern United States.

Male Blue-fronted Dancer (Argia apicalis) damselfly. Photograph taken in Mercer County, New Jersey, by Amanda Whispell.

The Blue-fronted Dancers are interesting little pond damselflies (Coenagrionidae) that prefer moving water to ponds or other still water bodies. They also have an affinity for man-made structures and paths which the males parse into little territories. Although this species is not considered territorial, I have documented multiple cases of males defending the same spot on a path for a week or more, so I think it’s safe to consider them at least “quasi-territorial” (aka… kinda territorial). The mature males and blue females (there is also a brown morph) change color more readily than other odes that only change color in response to temperature fluctuations. These plucky damsels change color when they copulate!

Mature Argia apicalis male. Photograph taken in Mercer County, New Jersey, by Amanda Whispell.

Mature Argia apicalis blue female. Photograph taken in Mercer County, New Jersey, by Amanda Whispell.

Mature Argia apicalis brown female. Photograph taken in Mercer County, New Jersey, by Amanda Whispell.

I was excited to learn about this bright blue, color-changing ode. The first time Mike took me into the field, I could barely tell the difference between an Argia and an Enallagma. He was patient and gave me plenty of tips. I planned for my first field season to be rather exploratory in nature, as I tried to find apicalis populations and sort out my methodology. We decided it would be beneficial if I spent some time looking for apicalis down in Texas and in Florida, as the southern populations are active much earlier in the season than the northern ones; meaning that I could essentially squeeze two field seasons into my first summer.

I first drove down to Texas, and spent about a month looking for apicalis. I found very few. Texas was in the midst of a drought, and many of the sites I visited had hardly any water. Although I did not find much success with apicalis there, I did find a few individuals. I also made the mistake of stepping into my first—but not my last—fire ant nest, and getting rather turned around on a hike, running out of water, and feeling fairly certain it was curtains for me. As you might have guessed from my ability to write this article, I eventually found my way back to my car.

After a fairly unsuccessful month in Texas, I was excited to begin my work in Florida. Northern Florida has the only populations of an apicalis morph that has a black stripe on the side of the thorax. Unfortunately, I was again unsuccessful at locating any apicalis populations. While Texas lacked water, Florida had too much. The parking lots for the lakes and streams I was meant to check were all under several feet of water, thanks to significant flooding.

 Flooding at research sites in Florida. Photographs by Amanda Whispell.

After coming up empty-handed in both Texas and Florida, I returned to New Jersey where the apicalis were just starting to emerge. New Jersey has several locations that are lousy with them, so I found a few different sites that had sizable populations. I selected the Van Nest Wildlife Refuge in Mercer County as my primary site, and spent that first field season hiking about a mile into the refuge every day. This field site is still the most beautiful office I’ve ever had. Over the course of that summer, I managed to catch and release more than 500 male and almost 200 female apicalis.

View of my field site at Van Nest Wildlife Reserve in Mercer County, New Jersey, by Amanda Whispell.

The 500th male that I tagged at the Reserve. Photograph by Amanda Whispell.

I spent countless hours sitting by the side of the stream at the site watching the apicalis males battle for females and small bits of territory, and trying to observe and document their mating behaviors and color changes. It was difficult to catch and release individuals and then actually observe them later—there was nothing to keep them from flying to the other side of the stream or out over the lake to never be seen again—but I enjoyed the ones that stuck around. I started to feel a bit like we had an understanding. I spent six to eight hours sitting at that site or walking around the edge of the stream every day.

 The next summer I solved the problem of the disappearing males by building an insectary at Duke Farms in Hunterdon County and stocking it with individuals I caught at the beginning of each week. Building an insectary in a pond was a challenge in and of itself—as was working inside of it—but it did lead to more significant results.

My insectary at Duke Farms in Hunterdon County, New Jersey. Photographs by Amanda Whispell.

The insectary was lined with fairly fine netting that prevented the individuals from escaping and increased the frequency with which I was able to observe their mating behavior. Unfortunately, the enclosure also kept heat from escaping, so it was terribly hot inside––at least five degrees warmer than outside—and it was in full sun. Those were some steamy days. 

I loved sitting in the insectary and watching the individuals looking for food, having wee altercations with each other, trying to secure opportunities to mate, and evading the frogs that constantly snuck in. I even loved making sure I got there early enough to capture and free all of the dragonflies that emerged inside of the insectary overnight before they were able to make meals of my precious little ones.

I removed this number of dragons from my insectary every morning during peak emergence months. If I did not get there in time, I would often find only a net full of satisfied dragons. Photograph by Amanda Whispell.

Though most people who attempted to join me for a day inside the insectary told me it was horrendously boring, I thought it was cathartic and peaceful. Hours were filled with the freedom to do nothing more than observe behavior and take photographs. I was lulled to sleep in my seat on occasion and was claimed as territory by the damselflies. Fair enough. It’s possible I have spent more one-on-one time with Blue-Fronted Dancers than I have with any single person. 

I was often claimed as territory by males if I remained still for long enough. Photographs by Amanda Whispell.

Blue-Fronted Dancers are beautiful little damsels that lead energetic lives. If you have the chance to observe them, I highly recommend it. You won’t be disappointed!

Amanda Whispell, the editor-in-chief of ARGIA, is busy writing manuscripts related to her work on color change in Argia apicalis (Blue-fronted Dancer), doing science outreach, and creating scientific art. She can be reached at editor@dragonflysocietyamericas.org or on Twitter at @AmandaWhispell. For more information about Amanda’s research visit www.amandawhispell.com.