Bitter winds blow across a frozen
landscape, but under the ice hide the jewels of summer.
Even during an Arctic cold snap, many
quick-flowing and spring-fed rivers maintain an open channel of inky current. This
meandering passage often follows the thalweg (one of my favorite words), which
is the deepest channel of the riverbed, usually with the swiftest flow. The
input of relatively warm groundwater may help prevent ice formation, as does
the constant churning of molecules. Even the still waters of lakes and ponds
remain liquid below, insulated by the layer of less-dense ice floating on top.
Except for the ice fishermen’s prey,
we often forget that anything lives in the dark depths below the ice and chilly
water. But crawling around on the river bottoms are some of the most grotesque,
fearsome, and ancient predators you may ever encounter. Come summer they will
emerge from the depths, shed their gruesome shells, and take flight as
shimmering-winged dragonflies.
Understandably, you don’t see those
colorful acrobats this time of year. Most dragonfly species do not overwinter
as adults. The ones that buzzed your cheek and caught a ride on your canoe
paddle? They’re all dead, their genes (hopefully) passed on to the next
generation. Common green darners are an impressive exception, as they fly more
than a thousand miles to Mexico or Florida with other snowbirds. A few species
overwinter as eggs, frozen neatly into the stems of aquatic plants. But most
spend the winter hidden under the ice on our lakes and streams, as alien-like
nymphs.
Nymphs are the immature stage of
insects that go through gradual or “incomplete” metamorphosis. The alternative
is “complete” metamorphosis, which is what butterflies do when they enter the
inactive pupal stage and then transform abruptly to a flying adult. Dragonfly
nymphs shed their skin several times as they grow through stages called
“instars,” until finally they emerge as a flying adult.
Dragonfly nymphs may spend anywhere
from four weeks to several years growing through the instars. The cooler and shorter
the summers are where they live, the longer it takes. In the meantime, they
rule the river bottom as fierce predators.
Their hydraulic-powered hunting system
is not for the squeamish. To catch food, a nymph draws in water through its
anus, and clenches its abdominal and thoracic muscles against the water-filled
rectal chamber. The amazing amount of pressure now trapped inside the nymph’s
body cavity pushes out its labium, or toothy lower lip, in a high-speed strike.
The lightning attack may earn the tiny predator a meal of tasty mosquito
larvae, a tadpole, a small fish, or even another species of dragonfly nymph.
The dragonfly nymph’s hydraulic system
isn’t just used for hunting. By jetting water out the way it came in, nymphs
can propel themselves forward at a speed of 10 centimeters per second. That power
of acceleration can help when they are on the hunt, and also allows for quick
exits if they become the hunted. Smallmouth bass, for example, might love a
nymph for lunch.
As the water goes in and out, it
passes by gills in the dragonfly’s rectum, and helps the little critter absorb
oxygen. This constant filtering of the stream through their bodies means that
dragonflies can’t survive in streams polluted by heavy metals, agricultural
runoff, and sewage. Dragonfly nymphs make excellent water quality indicators.
If they survive the winter, dragonfly
nymphs will use the abundance of spring and summer to continue growing through
their required eight to seventeen instars (depending on the species) before
their final mutation into adulthood. The metamorphosis is astounding. From a
split down the back of a scraggly, brown, bottom-feeder emerges a colorful,
fairy-like being with delicate, dexterous wings.
Their beauty belies the power they
retain as a predator. Separate muscles control each wing, and enable dragonflies
to swoop acrobatically, move straight up or down, fly backwards, stop and
hover, and make hairpin turns – all at full speed or in slow motion.
Huge eyes take in a 360 degree view
and allow them to lock onto a moving target, judge its trajectory, and
intercept it – with a 95% success rate. Dragonflies’ spiky legs, a relic from
their previous life as a water monster, form a net to snag prey on the wing. Those
prey include our old friends the mosquitoes, who are (at the moment) “out of
sight, out of mind.”
The dragonflies themselves are a bit
hidden right now, creeping along the river bottoms and lake beds beneath the
ice. They are waiting just as we are – lying low until they can tear off their
heavy shells and bask in the warmth of the sun. If you saw one, would you
recognize it as a diamond in the rough? Could you imagine it soaring as a jewel
of summer?
“I want to think again of dangerous
and noble things. I want to be light and frolicsome. I want to be improbable
and beautiful and afraid of nothing as though I had wings.”
― from "Starlings in Winter"
by Mary Oliver
For over 45 years, the Cable Natural
History Museum has served to connect you to the Northwoods. Come visit us in
Cable, WI, at 13470 County Highway M. The current exhibit, “Deer Camp: A
Natural and Cultural History of White-tailed Deer,” opened in May 2013 and will
remain open until April 2014.
Find us on the web at
www.cablemuseum.org to learn more about our exhibits and programs. Discover us
on Facebook, or at our blogspot, http://cablemuseumnaturalconnections.blogspot.com/.
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