Monthly Archives: August 2021

Sightings signal that migration has started

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Ruby-throated Hummingbirds make a non-stop crossing of the Gulf of Mexico. A hurricane in the Gulf during migration could have serious consequences for this small bird.

Mack Hayes, a resident of Telford, posted on my Facebook page recently about hummingbird experiences. 

“I have two hummingbird feeders out, and boy are they really working them,” Mack wrote. “I see several of them, and of course they fight each other. Males and females both. Guess they are getting ready for their long flight  ahead of them.”

Mack’s post reminded me that many of our favored summer visitors will soon make their return migrations to regions more hospitable for the duration of the winter season.

I replied to his post with my own comment.

“I am sure they are getting ready, but I still hope they don’t get in too great a hurry. I would like to keep them with us as long as possible.”

At home, I have enjoyed some fun bird observations. It was a veritable feeding frenzy in a corner of my yard for about an hour on Tuesday, Aug. 10. Everything kicked off with a Red-eyed Vireo enjoying some elderberries. I was reminded that, with a really good look, the Red-eyed Vireo should never be mistaken for a warbler. That bill is so much bigger than a warbler bill! I was watching the vireo in binoculars when he coughed and popped up an elderberry. He immediately swallowed it again! Waste not, want not, I suppose. 

I am counting this burst of bird activity as the official kickoff for my fall migration watching.

I watched the vireo a long time before I realized there was a Gray Catbird perched lower in the shrub and also enjoying the elderberries. Then, in rapid succession, three warblers: Black-throated Green Warbler, Northern Parula and Worm-eating Warbler. On the fringes of all this activity I noticed a Brown Thrasher, Downy Woodpecker, a couple of Mourning Doves, and the resident Carolina Chickadees, Tufted Titmice and Carolina Wrens. 

I also saw some parents hard-pressed to satisfy their young, including a Blue-gray Gnatcatcher being followed and pestered by a couple of young gnatcatchers, and a male Eastern Towhee leading a youngster around on the ground as they foraged beneath the forsythia tangle. 

Photo Courtesy of Jean Potter
A red-eyed vireo sits on its basket-shaped nest.

At the feeders I saw American Goldfinches, Northern Cardinals, and several Ruby-throated Hummingbirds, which don’t know the meaning of the word “share” as they dived and attacked any of their fellow hummers that came too close to “their” feeder. All in all, a fun Tuesday evening.

The start of migration appears to be more of a crawl than a sprint this fall, but I have picked up a few additional signs. For instance, I’ve been hearing the scolding sounds of red-eyed vireos from woodland edges for the past few weeks even before I observed the vireo feeding on the elderberries. A dedicated singer at most times, this vireo seems more likely to produce a harsh, scolding cry at this time of the year. Other hints of the steady advance of fall migration include flocks of chimney swifts congregating in the skies over my home and the unmistakable croaking of common ravens from nearby ridges.

So far, I’ve seen only a few warblers. At a glance, vireos would appear related to the wood warblers. Research into DNA, however, has led many experts to contend that vireos are more closely related to crows and shrikes. Like the flycatcher and hummingbird families, the vireo family is exclusive to the New World. With a mere 50 species, vireos and their kin are vastly outnumbered by flycatchers and hummingbirds. The majority of vireos resides in the tropics, but about a dozen species nest in the United States.

In East Tennessee Southwest Virginia and Western North Carolina, vireos resident during the summer months include red-eyed vireo, white-eyed vireo, blue-headed vireo, yellow-throated vireo and warbling vireo. Most people are likely unaware of vireos. Although not uncommon, these birds are more frequently heard than seen. They spend much of their time in the forest canopy or in dense brush. When singing, they can remain at a perch, unmoving, for long periods of time.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Blue-headed vireos, such as this bird, are high-elevation summer residents in the region. In the fall, they are also common migrants.

The loud scolding calls of red-eyed vireos often heard this time of year are given apparently when the vireo is alarmed or irritated. This scolding vocalization is quite unlike the usual ones produced by this bird. First and foremost, the call is louder than one would think could be produced by a bird that is only about six inches long. During the summer season, the red-eyed vireo is also one of the most persistent of singing songbirds. Another common name for the red-eyed vireo is “preacher bird,” so called because of its tendency to unceasingly deliver its song.

The red-eyed vireo is still considered one of eastern North America’s most common summer breeding birds. At one time, the red-eyed vireo was probably the most common breeding bird in eastern woodlands. That, sadly, is no longer the case. Red-eyed vireos are olive-green above and clean white below. These birds show a distinctive head pattern consisting of a gray crown and white eyebrow stripe bordered above and below by black lines. Adults also have the red eyes that give this particular vireo its common name. The term “vireo,” originating in Latin, can be translated into English as “green bird.” It’s an apt description, as many of these small birds are primarily dull green in coloration. Consider the vireos the “Plain Janes” of songbirds.

Some of the more colorful common names for vireos include the dwarf vireo, golden vireo and yellow-winged vireo.  In Central and South America, the vireo family expands to include many birds with common names such as shrike-vireo, greenlet and peppershrike. Some of the varied species include lemon-chested greenlet, green shrike-vireo and the black-bellied peppershrike.

I still focus most of my birding efforts on warblers in the autumn, but vireos are always a pleasant diversion when the colorful warblers make themselves scarce.

Keep your eyes open for new visitors. Those hummingbirds that scorned you this spring may give your home a second glance as they pass through this fall. In addition, the skies are filled with migrating raptors, flycatchers, thrushes, nighthawks and many other birds. 

Share sightings, ask questions or make comments by emailing me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com. 

Many of the world’s birds wear masks as part of their plumage

Photo by Pexels from Pixabay • Many human masks feature feathers, but many of our feathered friends sport masks.

Who was that masked bird? 

While asking pardon from “The Lone Ranger,” which originated the memorable “Who was that masked man?” question, I thought I’d take a look this week at some of our feather friends known for going about their lives fully masked. After all, masks are all the rage, apparently.

When we look back, perhaps not fondly but inevitably, on the years 2020 and 2021, I’m confident that the one icon of this blip in the arc of history will be the mask. Living in the time of COVID-19 has been a cross to bear for current generations, but remember that our great-grandparents withstood the Spanish flu and our more distant ancestors weathered the plague known as “the black death.” 

Many of them did so by using masks, some more effectively than others, to shield themselves from infection. Even back in the 1300s as the black death, i.e. the bubonic plague, rampaged through Europe, masks were recognized as a means of dealing with a contagion. 

Image by Enrique Meseguer from Pixabay • In their dark costumes with bird-beaked masks, these “doctors” must have presented a nightmarish appearance to their patients.

To complete the circle connecting masks and birds, I’ll remind readers that a strange costume arose in the 1300s among “doctors” attempting to combat the pandemic of their time. Plague doctors traveled across Europe, seeking public employment from desperate towns and cities, in an easily recognizable costume that consisted of dark robes and a weird mask with a prominent bird-like beak. The result was a look straight from some fevered nightmare. 

Looking at illustrations of these strange beaked masks and reading about some of the absurdly horrendous “cures” offered by these charlatans, I’m surprised that an anti-bird sentiment didn’t rise up and turn people against some of our fine feathered friends.  Ironically, the masks offered little or no protection from disease. Let’s just say that these were not the quality of some of the better surgical masks available today.

It may surprise people to learn that many birds are “masked.”  For mask-wearing birds, however, it’s not a choice but simply a quirk of their plumage that has given so many of our feather friends a distinctive mask, or in some cases even a complete hood, to complete their appearance. Birds ranging from popular backyard visitors like the cedar waxwing to more unusual avians such as the masked flowerpiercer and the masked fin foot wear masks.

The masked tityra is a medium-sized songbird. It has traditionally been placed in the cotinga or the tyrant flycatcher family, but many experts believe it is better placed in Tityridae. The masked  tityra has been spotted once north of the border, being found in the Bentsen/Rio Grande Valley State Park in February of 1990.

Photo by Pixabay • The loggerhead shrike sports a classic black mask. With this shrike, both males and females are identical in appearance.

Shrikes are a family with many mask-wearing members. The loggerhead shrike, in addition to wearing a bandit’s mask, even has the unsavory nickname of “butcher bird” due to its gruesome habit of impaling prey on thorns or barbed wire fences. The loggerhead shrike is native to the United States and is the only member of the family found in Northeast Tennessee. The Northern shrike, which is the only other shrike in North America, is also masked.

Some warblers sport masks, including the common yellowthroat and hooded warbler. Well, the latter wears an encompassing black hood, but you get the idea. The Kentucky warbler sports a partial black mask around the eyes. There’s also the masked yellowthroat — the name seems a bit too on point — that maintains separate resident breeding populations in Central and South America. Based on photos, the masked yellowthroat’s mask is even more pronounced than the mask of the common yellowthroat. 

There’s also the masked booby, which is a large seabird in the booby/gannet family, Sulidae. This bird spends most of its time at sea, coming to land to breed and nest. The name “booby” is actually derived from the Spanish word “bobo,” which can be translated to mean “fool” or “clown.” These seabirds are not truly stupid, but the Spanish, seeing them on land and out of their element, only noticed how awkward and clumsy the birds are on land. Some relatives of the masked booby include blue-footed booby, brown booby, red-footed booby, Nazca booby and Abbott’s booby of Christmas Island in the eastern Indian Ocean. 

Photo by Nadine Doerlé from Pixabay • The shorebird known as the masked lapwing is an Australian species.

The masked lapwing is a large, common and conspicuous shorebird native to Australia, particularly the northern and eastern parts of the continent, as well as New Zealand and New Guinea. In the family Charadriidae, which consists of plovers, lapwings and dotterels, the masked lapwing is the biggest of the bunch. The masked lapwing reaches a length of 14 inches and can weigh 368 grams. 

The cedar waxwing sports a jaunty crest. Unlike many birds with only males wearing the mask, both sexes wear sleek black masks. The world’s two other waxwings — bohemian waxwing and Japanese waxwing – are also masked. I’ve seen large flocks of cedar waxwings in recent weeks. Late summer is usually a good time to find these jaunty birds in the region.

Photo by David Mark from Pixabay • The Bohemian waxwing is a larger relative of the Cedar Waxwing. Both species sport a prominent black facial mask.

There’s no masked crow, but there is a hooded crow. Ranging across Europe and Asia, this crow has different common names in various countries.  In Ireland, it is called caróg liath or grey crow, while in Germany its often called the “mist crow.” It’s also called the Scotch crow and the Danish crow. The hooded crow is associated with fairies in the Scottish highlands and Ireland. There’s an 18th century tradition in Scotland in which shepherds would make offerings to them to keep fairies from attacking sheep. 

There’s a masked duck native to the American tropics. From time to time, these small ducks even stage invasions into southern states like Florida and Texas. A male masked duck in breeding plumage has a black face mask, bright blue bill and dark rusty-red body.

The masked trogon is another bird of the American tropics, ranging mostly in the Andes of South America. Males are variously glossy green, reddish-bronze or golden-green on their head, chest and back, with a red belly and a distinct red eye-ring. There’s usually a white band of feathers that separates the red belly from the greenish plumage of this bird. The trogons are closely related to the family of brilliant birds known as quetzals. 

The masked flowerpiercer is related to tanagers and can be found in Venezuela, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia. Flowerpiercers are so named because of a sharp hook on the tip of their upper mandible which they use to slice open the base of flowers to get at the nectar. It’s a simple but effective hack for a bird unable to hover like a hummingbird. 

Found in Vietnam and China, the masked laughing thrush is a sociable, noisy thrush reflected by its common Chinese name, which means “seven sisters.” These birds often produce their harsh chattering when deep under cover of tangled vegetation. 

The masked finch is a small songbird found in dry savannah across northern Australia. Like the aforementioned masked laughingthrush, this finch is a noisy bird. Hundreds or even thousands of individuals may gather at popular watering holes to drink, bathe and preen, all while chattering constantly. 

The masked fin foot is found in the brackish waters of the eastern Indian subcontinent, which includes Indochina, Malaysia and Indonesia. This odd bird has been described as a combination of a cormorant and hornbill. This unique bird is endangered. Although a 2009 survey indicated that 600 to 1,700 masked finfoots existed, a worrisome 2020 survey found only 100 to 300 individuals. Most of the surviving individuals are found in Bangladesh and Cambodia. 

Lesser masked weaver, an African species, is a colony-nesting bird. Only the males show a distinctive mask of black feathers over the face. The rest of the male’s plumage is a bright yellow-green.

The golden masked owl is a barn owl endemic to the island of New Britain in Papua New Guinea. This owl’s facial disc, which is white in most barn owls, is tinged with russet-gold that does indeed form the shape of a partial mask like those used for masquerades.

There are other “masked” birds, but I think this sampling provides ample evidence that the mask appears frequently in the various plumage patterns worn by the world’s almost 10,000 species of birds.

Take care and stay well. For questions about birds, or to make a comment or share an observation, email me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com. 

Goldfinches provide cheerful summer observations

 

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Enjoy the appearance of the vibrant male American goldfinches now. They will soon adopt their drab winter plumage for the next few months.

Summer is a season of plenty for American goldfinches. Even roadside ditches are choked with chicory, evening primrose and other seed-producing plants often dismissed as “weeds.” Simply driving local roads has produced several sightings of flocks of American goldfinches in recent weeks.

These small, colorful finches are also regular visitors to my feeders, although they don’t really need my offering of black oil sunflower seeds to supplement the natural smorgasbord available to them.

The American goldfinch is also one of the last songbirds to nest each season. Some goldfinches don’t even start to think about nesting until late July and early August. Their nesting season is timed deliberately to coincide with this season of natural abundance. Goldfinches feed their young mostly on seeds, as opposed to most songbirds that work so hard to gather insects to feed their young a protein-rich diet.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Special mesh feeders can distribute thistle seeds, a favorite treat of the American goldfinch.

It’s a satisfying irony that, although brown-headed cowbird females sometimes slip their eggs into a goldfinch nest, any young hatched in those nests rarely survive. While goldfinch hatchlings are adapted to thrive on a diet of seeds, the fostered young cowbirds fail to thrive on a diet so lacking in the protein derived from insects.

The male American goldfinch during the breeding season is unmistakable in his bright yellow and black plumage. Female goldfinches are more subdued in coloration. Males also sing a bubbly, cheerful song when seeking to win the attention of a potential mate. Outside of the nesting season, goldfinches are quite sociable and form large flocks. Dozens of these small songbirds can descend on feeders at almost any time of the year, but they are primarily attracted to our feeders during the lean times of the winter months.

For these and other reasons, goldfinches are favorites of many bird lovers. There are actually three species of goldfinches in North America. The two related species are Lawrence’s goldfinch of California and the lesser goldfinch, which ranges through the southwestern United States as well as Central and South America.

Lawrence’s goldfinch was named by John Cassin in 1850 for his colleague George Lawrence, a New York businessman and amateur ornithologist. His enthusiasm for birds must have impressed his colleagues. One bird genus and 20 species were named in his honor. Lawrence’s goldfinch, known by the scientific name Spinus lawrencei, honors him doubly with both the scientific and common names for the bird.

The American goldfinch is also known by other common names, including wild canary, yellowbird and willow goldfinch. I’ve also heard the goldfinch referred to as “lettuce bird.” This nickname, which was one my maternal grandmother applied to the bird, relates to the bird’s fondness for seeds. Apparently the goldfinches would flock to lettuce plants in the garden once they had gone to seed.

Come winter, this vibrant American goldfinch undergoes a transformation into a dull, drab bird with grayish feather. In fact, this annual molt usually begins in September. During the fall and winter, the American goldfinch looks almost like an entirely different bird.

It’s understandable why people love to entertain flocks of these finches in their yards and gardens. Three states — Washington, Iowa and New Jersey — have made the American goldfinch their official state bird.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A male American goldfinch perches on a dead branch.

The best strategy for attracting goldfinches is to provide some of their favorite foods. Black oil sunflower seed and the seeds of nyjer thistle are highly favored. The tiny thistle seeds require special feeders. Mesh “socks” can also be used to dispense the thistle seed.

An alternative is to plant a garden that offers an abundance of fresh seeds. A stand of sunflowers will attract goldfinches, as well as other birds such as indigo bunting and house finch. Liatris, also known as gay feather, produces flower spikes that are sought out by goldfinches for their seeds. Other favorites include asters and coneflowers. The bonus is that even after the beautiful blooms are past, the birds can still benefit from the seeds left behind after flowering.

To share an observation, make a comment or ask a question, email me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

Common yellowthroat among many recent avian visitors

Photo by James DeMers/Pixabay • A male common yellowthroat sports a black mask that provides dramatic contrast to the bright yellow plumage that covers the bird’s throat and provides the common name for this species of warbler. This bird spend much of its time close to the ground while foraging for insect prey. Females and young birds lack the male’s vibrant black mask.

“Witchety! Witchety! Witchety!”

I heard the ringing syllables in a song produced by a small olive-yellow bird. The notes rang loudly from the willow trees crowding a sandy bank along Simerly Creek at my home.
The song alone, with that trademark repetition of the “Witchety” phrase, confirmed the singer as a common yellowthroat, a small warbler fond of skulking in thickets, cattails or any other thick stands of vegetation. Although female and young common yellowthroats are almost drab in appearance, the male is another case altogether. In addition to a jaunty black mask emblazoned across his face, the male sports a thin whitish-gray line that separates the bird’s black mask from the head and neck. True to its common name, common yellowthroat’s show a bright yellow throat as well as some yellow plumage beneath the tail. The back of this bird is a warm olive-brown.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Female Common Yellowthroats, as well as young males, lack the black mask of an adult male..

The appearance of a male common yellowthroat matches his skulking lifestyle. He looks the part of a bandit trying, but often failing, to keep a low profile. Although this warbler would prefer to fly beneath the radar, it has one weakness. Common yellowthroats are invariably curious birds. They will respond to squeaking or mechanical bird calls. Unlike some birds that pop into view for a brief look before diving back into cover, common yellowthroats can often be called into view several times during an observation.

This was the case when I watched one of these warblers on July 28. I heard the familiar call before I spotted a young bird foraging in late afternoon at the top of a rock wall that borders my yard. Grass and other vegetation hanging over the wall had attracted the young bird’s attention. With the strength of an Olympic long jumper, the bird kept hurling itself into the air, without benefit of wings, to snatch insects from the underside of leaves and stems. I watched the bird engage in this foraging activity for quite some time. I moved slowly and carefully, which made the bird aware of my presence. The lure of the insects apparently outweighed any fear of me. The young bird continued its foraging for several minutes, probably stopping only once it had eaten its fill.

Common yellowthroats are one of the many warblers that nest in the Northeast Tennessee during the summer months. They can be found from lower elevation to higher ones, but they will usually not be found outside of a habitat that offers dense vegetation to their particular liking. A weedy slope in a backyard, a marshy stand of cattails, or overgrown fields are some places suitable for this noisy if “under the radar” bird.

The common yellowthroat belongs to a genus of warblers known as Geothlypsis. Three other members – MacGillivray’s warbler, mourning warbler and Kentucky warbler – of the genus are resident in the United States and Canada for part of the year.

Others in the genus inhabit ranges mostly within Mexico, Central and South America and the Caribbean. These other “yellowthroats” include Bahama yellowthroat, black-polled yellowthroat, masked yellowthroat, hooded yellowthroat, gray-crowned yellowthroat and Belding’s yellowthroat, a bird named for Lyman Belding, a California naturalist and ornithologist. Robert Ridgway, an American ornithologist known for his work in systematics, which is the is the study of the diversification of living forms, both past and present, and the relationships among living things through time. It’s also the field of study that provides names for organisms, hence Ridgway’s naming of the warbler now known as Belding’s yellowthroat to honor a fellow ornithologist.

Belding also had a lizard – Belding’s orange-throated whiptail – named in his honor by Leonhard Hess Stejneger, a Norwegian-born American ornithologist, herpetologist and zoologist.
The yellowthroat named in Belding’s honor is endemic to the Baja California Peninsula in Mexico and is considered particularly vulnerable to habitat loss as more of its favored cattail marshes and freshwater lagoons in Mexico disappear.

The website All About Birds notes in a profile on the species that male common yellowthroats arrive first on breeding grounds in the spring and begin defending territories.
According to the profile, fighting among males grows more intense once the female birds arrive. Researchers have also found that the black mask of male yellowthroats acts as a trigger for some of this fighting. Some enterprising researchers added a black paper mask to a stuffed female yellowthroat. When placed within view of male yellowthroats, the stuffed bird weathered attacks from territorial males.

The common yellowthroat is one of these birds that benefits from a lawn and garden that are not kept trimmed and manicured. They will only thrive in habitats that offer dense thickets and other tangles of vegetation. To attract birds like the common yellowthroat, keep some corners of your property in a more “natural” state. The neighbors may look askance, but the birds will thank you.

•••••

The common yellowthroat hasn’t been my only recent visiting bird. My mom and I got a big surprise on the evening of July 29 when a young bald eagle flew over the house and continued up Simerly Creek in the direction of Woodby Hill and the Unicoi County line. At first I tried to make the bird into a turkey vulture until I realized the flight was all wrong. My mom and I both got a good look at the young eagle before it flew out of sight.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A ruby-throated hummingbird perches on a feeder.

In addition, a wood duck hen is keeping watch over four ducklings at the fish pond at my home.
We’re into the month of August, and the birds are feeling restless. The ruby-throated hummingbirds, scarce most of the summer, have returned with a vengeance. They spend most of their time dueling with each other to contest the more popular sugar water feeders.
Migration has already started for many birds and the pace will quicken in the months ahead. Feel free to share an observation, make a comment or ask a question by emailing me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

Odes add summer excitement when heat makes the birds scarce

Photo by Bryan Stevens Photo by Bryan Stevens A female common skimmer, a species of dragonfly, basks in the sunshine to help boost her energy reserves for hunting. Dragonflies, with a kill rate of 90%, are one of the world’s most deadly and efficient predators.

 

I am taking a hiatus from the birds for one week to introduce readers to some “other things with wings.”

Specifically, I want to discuss dragonflies and damselflies, otherwise known as “odes,” or members of the insect order of Odonata. Surprisingly, beyond the fact that both have wings, the odes and birds have a lot in common.

When birds are scarce during the heat of the day, I find that other winged creatures get active and can provide some fun observations. In late summer I spend a great deal of time focused on the dragonflies and damselflies that live along the creek and at the fish pond at my home. The “odonates” are insects with long brightly colored bodies, two pairs of membranous wings and large compound eyes.

Photo by Bryan Stevens
A glimpse through the vegetation at one of the pond’s most voracious predators. Dragonflies consume many other species of insects, including some that are considered pests. Pictured is a female Blue Dasher.

Some of the more prevalent dragonflies in the region include widow skimmer, common whitetail, Eastern pondhawk, Eastern amberwing and slaty skimmer. There are less common odes that also put in appearances at my home along Simerly Creek Road. Gray petaltails and tiger spiketails, two larger dragonfly species, put in almost annual appearances.

I also often find the ebony jewelwing, a species of damselfly, fluttering along the creek. These delicate-looking insects like to find a sunny perch near flowing water. I’ve noticed the ebony jewelwings for many years because they are particularly difficult to miss. They have dark wings and a tapering body that glistens with a metallic blue-green sheen.

Damselflies, which are closely related to dragonflies, are usually smaller and less swift. A dragonfly at rest keeps its wings extended horizontally like an airplane’s wings, but damselflies fold their wings over their backs.

All odes are predators, feeding on other insects, but they are harmless to humans. Despite an enduring myth, they cannot sting. They are capable of biting, but will not do so unless they are handled in a careless manner.

Photo by Bryan Stevens
The aptly-named Autumn Meadowhawk is one of the last dragonflies to emerge each year.

If you observe dragonflies long enough, you will start to notice they share one trait with hummingbirds: they are intolerant of any intrusion into their personal space. Like feisty hummingbirds, dragonflies constantly chase rivals away from a favorite perch, restlessly patrolling the edge of a pond. They are unceasing in their chasing and harassing of rivals.

Some cultures consider a dragonfly landing on a person a sign of good fortune. My sister-in-law would disagree. She has an intense, if irrational, fear of dragonflies. Perhaps she learned too much of the misinformation handed down in various human cultures about dragonflies.

Europeans have long linked dragonflies with sinister forces. Some common names for dragonflies, such as darners, come down from older names such as “devil’s darning needle.” Swedes call dragonflies “troll spindles” and Norwegians refer to them as “eye pokers.” Some cultures in South America call dragonflies “horse killers” and others refer to them as caballito del diablo, or the “devil’s little horse.” Some residents of the Southern United States refer to dragonflies as “snake doctors,” believing these insects can stitch and repair any injuries that a serpent suffers. It’s no wonder some people fear a harmless and rather beneficial insect.

Native Americans as well as some Asian cultures have a more positive outlook on dragonflies. In Japan, dragonflies represent such concepts as strength, courage and joy. Dragonflies are often depicted in Zuni pottery, and the Navajo use the dragonfly as a symbol to represent “pure water,” which was an important resource for people living in very arid conditions. For both birds and dragonflies, water is also a crucial resource if they are to thrive.

The Hopi and Pueblo tribes also incorporate dragonflies into their art. Many Native Americans consider dragonflies a symbol of renewal. Many others see them as a symbol representing illusion and seeing through deception. I wonder if the use of the dragonfly as a renewal symbol evolved because of the life cycle of dragonflies.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A painted skimmer grasps the tip of a cattail.

Odes spend the first stage of life as aquatic larvae living below the surface of the water. Later, they emerge as adult dragonflies. During their time spent as larvae, or nymphs, they are voracious predators, tackling other aquatic organisms, including small fish. At the same time, these nymphs are important food sources for some larger fish. Nymphs may spend as long as three years living beneath the water, but adult dragonflies usually live only a few weeks or months.

Adult dragonflies continue to consume prey, which is mostly other insects. Among the odes, there are no vegetarians. “Mosquito hawk” is another common name for them because they catch and eat mosquitoes. They also consume gnats, flies and other insects. So, along with birds such as swallows and nighthawks, the dragonflies help keep in check the numbers of many nuisance insects.

Some of the larger dragonflies are also reputed to attack and eat hummingbirds. I tried to find conclusive evidence, but the jury’s still out in my opinion. However, some of the larger species of praying mantis have been documented capturing and consuming hummingbirds, so it is not too far-fetched to believe some of the larger dragonflies might be capable of preying on hummers.

Like many birds, some dragonflies migrate. Species such as Carolina saddlebags, green darners and wandering gliders are known to migrate hundreds of miles.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • An Eastern pond hawk perches on the bloom of an impatiens.

In recent years, dragonfly-watching has emerged as a nature pastime to rival the watching of birds and butterflies. Why watch dragonflies? Well, in many ways, they are just as fascinating as birds and other wildlife

Here’s some additional fun trivia about dragonflies:

• Odes have excellent eyesight. Their compound eyes have up to 30,000 facets, each of which is a separate light-sensing organ arranged to give nearly a 360 degree field of vision. Their vision also makes it difficult to sneak up on a dragonfly. I have learned this during my attempts to photograph them.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A spangled skimmer at rest near the water’s edge.

• Dragonflies are built for speed. Many experts credit dragonflies with the ability to fly at speeds between 19 to 38 miles per hour. They have also been documented traveling as much as 85 miles in a single day.

• Dragonflies can hover and fly backwards, a feat achieved by only hummingbirds among our winged friends with feathers.

• Dragonflies are among the world’s most efficient predators, successfully capturing prey at a whopping 90% of their attempts. In other words, nine times out of 10, dragonflies capture and eat other insects.

• Dragonflies are ancient. They appeared 100 million years before dinosaurs and 150 million years before birds.

• The largest dragonfly to ever live was Meganeura monyi, which lived during the Carboniferous period about 300 million years ago. It resembled and was related to present-day dragonflies. With a wingspan of almost 26 inches, it is one of the largest known flying insect species.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A gray petaltail clings to the side of a post.