Gun to your head, guess which animal would be a contender for the best hunter of all time, with a near 100% success rate.
If you guessed dragonflies, congratulations. You’re weird and I like that.
Whether this is your first read of the series or if you’ve been here from the start, I want to welcome you to Insects are Fairies, a summer entomology series. Come, have a seat, and grab yourself a glass of iced lemon balm tea. Together we’ll study the mysteries of the wild world and ourselves through the lens of our co-evolutionary history with insects. I’m Roxanne, aka Farmer Rox, and I didn’t get into farming for a love of bugs. Quite the opposite - farming gave me a chip on my shoulder about them for some time. I work on an organic farm on the Milwaukee River, surrounded by 400 acres of Riveredge nature preserve. Like them or not, insects are a daily part of working outside for us.
For most of my decade-long farming career, I only knew what I had to know about bugs. I learned to identify them as pests, like tomato hornworms, but not their adult stage, as sphinx moths. I could name the two-lined plant bugs, cabbage worms, potato beetles, spittle bugs, Japanese beetles, flea beetles, cucumber beetles. Ticks and of course, mosquitos. I only appreciated the It-Girls of the bug world, like butterflies (see my previous post: Butterflies, Moths, and Migration: Lepodiptera). The 2010’s brought a wave of panic to save the bees, and I later became a beekeeper for a while. My bee mentor, Charlie Koenen, always maintained that wild and native bees and pollinators were his true passion, but honey kept him in business. My business is with vegetables and herbs, and for a while, that kept my mind preoccupied enough.
However, something changed over the last few years. In working with beginning farmers, I realized I didn’t know so many of the insects they were taking pictures of and asking questions about. And once that surface-tension of curiosity was broken, I kept diving deeper into the pond of entomology. And what I’ve found brings us to where we are right now: having a conversation about one of the oldest living fossils on Earth, how they have influenced human mythology and culture, affected evolution of species to emerge after them, and what they mean to us now.
If you aren’t seduced by the skill of the dragonfly hunters, and you want to argue that it’s humans who are the most successful hunters, given our track record of eating more than a few entire species to extinction, sure. I have no idea how many, if any, species have been obliterated by dragonflies. Given their ~300 million year tenure on this Earth, and the impossibility of proving a negative, who could ever say for sure.
However, in the context of hunting success, skill is measured by the number of kill attempts vs. the number of actual kills. Dragonflies snare just about whatever they set their sites on, in the air or in the water, as nymphs. Humans, by comparison, look like children trying to open a walnut: just swinging hammers until something breaks. Maybe if our species, on average, was comprised of natural-born sharpshooters with a kill for each bullet, arrow, or spear, we might come close to the caliber of dragonflies, followed by their relative, damselflies.
It’s no wonder ancient Japanese Samurai warriors adorned their armor with engravings of the insect. Even the classical names for Japan, including Akitsushima, among others, are said to be derived from archaic words meaning “Dragonfly Island”, which is beautifully reflected in shape of the land base itself. Entomology and etymology overlap beautifully in this case! The story goes that the mythical founder of Japan, Emperor Jinmu, was being bitten by mosquitos while hunting. Along came a dragonfly, scooping them up with its arms and folding them into its mouth. Without mosquitos attacking him, he was able to feed his community in peace. Thus, in Japanese art, literature, and haiku, the dragonfly become a symbol of strength and courage. When I got to spend 3 months WWOOFing on farms in Japan right out of high school, I was struck by their near-constant presence in the water-rich rice paddies. It was a familiar face that made me feel at home in a far-away place.
Back here in North America, in many Native American cultures, they are known to be a welcome omen as well. The Navajo regard their presence as a sign of clean water nearby, a wise assumption as dragonflies are susceptible to contaminated water. The Hopi peoples have depicted dragonflies in rock art in their native land of the Southwest, dating back thousands of years.
That level of reverence and admiration for dragonflies is not universal, however. Our bias towards our own species, and species like us, is often misleading. For example, persistent folklore from Europe about dragonflies paint them in a nefarious light. They are called “horse-stinger” (they don’t sting horses, but rather, eat the flies that do). “Devil’s darning needle” is another dragonfly slur, based on the tale told to children not to fall asleep near a river or pond because a dragonfly will come and use its needle-like shape to sew their eyes and/or mouth shut. The Swedes contended that dragonflies were the devil’s instrument for weighing people’s souls. Norwegians called them “eye-poker”. Let me be clear, we will have none of this Odonata slander here!
With Insects are Fairies, I’m challenging myself and all of us to take on our bias against bugs. “Fun facts” are more than just for fun. We have the privilege of access to hi-res photography and videography that our recent ancestors couldn’t have dreamed of. We have science, and the ability to participate in citizen science to protect the species we get to learn about. For the first time in history, we can know the truth about how they live. For example, some species of dragonflies spend years (some scientist claim up to a decade) underwater as nymphs before emerging as flying adults! They eat everything from insect larva, to tadpoles, to minnows:
We also now know that their eyesight more advanced than ours, which no doubt contributes to their hunting success and survival. They can see red similar to how we do, and with more photoreceptors than humans, they see the world in “ultra multi-color”. Because of the size and shape of their compound eyes, they have a near 360 degree view. Their super-powered vision doesn’t stop there. While humans can process images at roughly 24 frames per second, dragonflies can process up to 300 frames per second. This means they essentially see the world in slow-motion, processing greater detail of movement, compared to us.
Even our recent ancestors would have had no way of knowing things like this. But, like our ancestors, we can use our own innate senses to notice, observe, and even interact with the insects of our environment. We can take the knowledge from that and integrate it with the supposition that these creatures, these fairies, are sentient beings. We can create our own mythology that serves to protect life and habitat. These tiny jewel-toned beauties haven’t survived millions of years and multiple mass extinctions by accident. They are cunning, adaptable, fast (some dragonflies can fly up to 30 mph), and resourceful to the point of eating their own kind if needed.
While the differences between us are striking, the dynamic co-evolutionary relationship we, and all Earthlings, have with some of the longest-running residents of this planet is worth getting to know. Dragonflies and damselflies have endured at least two major ecological meltdowns, one was the familiar asteroid from 65 million years ago that took out the dinosaurs, and one that happened much earlier 250 million years ago, and was much more severe. Scientists called it The Great Dying: according to NASA, “roughly 9 in 10 marine species and 7 in 10 land species vanished.” As with the great extinction of the dinosaurs, it seems that a massive asteroid the (size of Mount Everest) was a major cause, but not the only factor. At the time of impact, Earth was already being rocked by intense volcanic activity. The tectonic plates had been shifting, and getting beat up in the process. Like blood oozing from road-rashed skin, lava spilled through cracks in the Earth’s crust. In modern-day Siberia, it’s believed that a lava field the size of Europe pumped carbon dioxide and sulfur into the atmosphere, causing extreme global warming and acidification of the oceans. Sound familiar?
The ensuing death carried on over a period of an estimated 2 million years. Proto-dragonflies, an extinct predecessor with a wingspan of two feet, adapted to the worst apocalypse imaginable. Because Odonata insects were the first animal to ever fly, we can see correlating changes to the anatomy of their decedents in the fossil record when birds, bats, and other animals joined them in the sky. Thanks to natural selection, their bodies modified themselves, allowing more sophisticated flying skills to avoid being eaten in the air. Dragonflies today, while fast, are also equally impressive for their ability to hover, fly upside-down, dart and dodge, mate mid-flight, and even do flips in the air to shake off water after a quick dip to cool off.
As one of the few remaining players on the field after the Great Dying nearly wiped out all life on Earth, it’s easy to see how instrumental they were in the come-back. In the delicate bodies of water slowly clearing of toxic waste, they formed a backbone of a food chain, as hunters and hunted. From that grew multiple new species that made up each epoch that followed. They fomented a revival that lead everywhere from the dinosaurs, to mega-mammals, to us.
The notion that dragonflies are our ancestors is not my invention. Take it from those native to Dragonfly Island, who perceive their ancestors embodied (or even riding on the backs of) dragonflies, which appear around the same time as the Obon festival. As the mosquitos rise, carrying many diseases including malaria that has devastated human life by an order of magnitude impossible to reconcile, the dragonflies are there. Yes, bats, birds, fish, and amphibians are important predators of mosquitos. But I contend that dragonflies are the real MVP when it comes to biological control. What else eats them ravenously, at all stages of life beyond the egg, both in the water as larva, and in the air, with near-legendary success? Their nickname, “Mosquito Hawks”, is therefore well-deserved.
I don’t know about you, but after my time as a human, I would love to show up as a dragonfly, caretaking my decedents by gobbling up biting pests before they reach their skin. I could get into an afterlife that revolves around watching future-humans play in the water with my super-vision. Darting gracefully to the delight of children.
Perhaps a practice we could offer our ancestors, as a compliment to whatever we already do to honor and heal them, is to protect the habitat of dragonflies. Keep pollution and pesticides out of our ponds, rivers, and lakes. Enhance habitat around bodies of water by increasing biodiversity of aquatic plants, rather than lining them with plastic or rock walls. Protect the delicate habitat, especially around the edge of bodies of water by not mowing grass right up to the edge of a pond, lake, or river.
To get involved in protecting the Milwaukee River, see Milwaukee Riverkeepers. Resist data centers wherever they are proposed, and keep resisting them even when get built: Great Lakes Neighbors is a great resource for that in Wisconsin, as is the Party for Socialism and Liberation nationally.
Ancestor work is not for the weak. As someone with broken and/or thin ties on both sides of my family, it can be hard to wrap my head around the concept of ancestral lineage and healing when even my closest living ancestors feel distant (geographically, and relationally). Two folks in the Milwaukee area with more experience and offerings around this, if you want to explore that further:
Sevan Mercy - offering a 5-step guided Ancestral Lineage Healing.
The Zen Dragonfly (so aptly named!) - Ms Angela Smith offers an introductory course on hoodoo and ancestral healing practices.
Of course, not all of our ancestors are human, and if this is your first time considering that idea, I invite you to visit your local body of water. Wear a mask, or wait until the smoke from the wildfires passes. Go in the early morning or evening, when the sun has cooled. Say hi to the dragonflies, and watch them in action. As they zig and zag, thank them for protecting you from mosquito infestation, for surviving multiple devastating apocalypses, and just in case, give them a message to send to your ancestors. They may be listening. If one comes within 20 feet of you, watch it closely. You can bet that it is looking back at you with its 30,000 small eyes, the same eyes that saw our now-extinct hominid predecessors probably doing the same thing you are now: sitting by the water, and marveling at these fascinating fairy creatures.
RESOURCES (not already linked):
A BILINGUAL HANDBOOK ON JAPANESE CULTURE by John K. Gillespie
Dragonfly Vision and Prey Catching
How dragonflies see the world in slow motion
Dragonfly Mercury Project - citizen science initative studying the effect of mercury pollution
Where in the world to dragonflies live? on Youtube
Griffinflies: Earliest flying insects via Natural History Museum
Smologies Podcast: Dragonflies (Odonatology)
EXTRAORDINARY INSECTS by Anne Sverdrup-Thygeson
Great work!
Thank you!
Rox, I read the latest CSA newsletter & your thoughts on hope vs nihilism, & what is required of us all to address climate crises. And how this was passed down to us by previous generations. I think we could connect ancestral healing to this, too, as I know it's a passion of yours. Ancestral healing from an ecocide/”survival at all costs" perspective. I like this idea.