Dragonflies are scientifically one of the most perfect animals on our planet. They first came onto the scene about 300 million years ago, and have barely changed. Their amazing flight capabilities, aerodynamic bodies and beautifully complex compound eyes did not require change, and the group's design has been unaltered since the dawn of their existence. So when a dragonfly tour came up at Strumpshaw Fen I was keen to join, so I could study these amazing insects.
As our group mustered, the first of these ancient critters were basking in the sun around the visitor centre. With tomato-red abdomens and greenish eyes, these were Common Darters. A late-summer species, these speedy dragons can be found all through summer, autumn and even into winter on occasion. Our group leader, Sandi, taught us the complex difference between these and Ruddy Darters. I learnt something new, which was that the legs of the Common have a distinctive yellow stripe along their length. One of my favourites, darters have a sort of wary character about them, zipping off at the first sign of movement. But if you stay very still, you can walk right up to its previous perch, wait, and it will return! After a quick study of these guys, we walked east of the visitors’ centre to search further.
We soon reached a reed-edged pool full of marsh plants and vegetation to hide in. I knew this was great dragonfly habitat, but the first thing I saw was not a dragonfly. It was the rare fenland specialist invertebrate, the King Diving Beetle! I was not expecting to see these on a casual walk, but there they were. I was sure this was what they were, but after I left that evening I researched the species further. I identified successfully from the photographs I had obtained that they were indeed this little-known relative of the commoner Great Diving Beetle. I was pleased to have seen a new species! It continued to dive and surface in a clear patch in the water, showing off its character as a powerful hunter by swimming with strong hind legs.
There was also a plethora of dragonfly species present at this pool, including the wonderfully marked Azure Damselfly. This is a small, slender odonatan which is bright blue but with black notches on each abdominal segment. They are one of our commonest dragonflies and can be found in gardens and small ponds throughout the country, so it was no surprise to encounter this little gem. Many pairs were laying eggs by balancing on pondweed at the water's surface, the male delicately clasping the drabber female's neck. Another resplendent species I saw was the Brown Hawker. From the name you would assume it is a dull insect, but this is far from the case. The wings are veined with vivid amber which gleams in the backlight. The abdomen is studded with blue and gold, running in bars down the length. Not dull at all!
After this extravaganza, we headed out across the meadow in search of more. This yielded some egg-laying Brown Hawkers, but best of all was the UK's biggest dragonfly: the Emperor. It quartered the dyke with all the majesty of a Golden Eagle, but with the speed and agility of an Olympic sportsman. Its thorax was acidic apple-green, and its eyes and abdomen were deep sky-blue. It measures in at nearly 9 centimetres, and is surely a species deserving of much appreciation. The Emperor is so large and powerful it can actually hunt and eat other dragonfly species, mainly Four-spotted Chasers.
Another species we encountered along the dyke was the Willow Emerald Damselfly, a member of my favourite family of dragons. The whole insect iridises a glamorous green colour in the light, and bears distinctive milky-white wing-spots. Only in the past few years have they really colonised Britain; now any well-vegetated garden in Norfolk, Suffolk or Essex could support them, and many do. But sightings only ten years ago would have been exceptional, and much hankered after. They are unique among their kind to lay their eggs in tree-trunks; they leave obvious ladder-patterns of scars in the trunks when they do so, which I have found on Ash in my own garden.
The final dragonfly we were to encounter on our tour was a rare one. Strumpshaw Fen is perhaps the country's best site for the Scarce Chaser, and although it was late for them, I was delighted to see 2 males. They behave much like darters, but males are very aggressive, avidly chasing others out of their territory. The two I found were worn and had tattered wings, but still had a dusting of blue colour over their abdomens, and pale blue eyes. The body was also patchy with black, like they had fallen down a chimney. Scarce Chasers like riverside floodplains with reed-bed areas, so Strumpshaw provides the perfect habitat.
When we all returned to the visitors’ centre, I don't think anyone wanted the tour to end. We stayed and talked about these amazing creatures by that first pond we arrived at. And still, as we discussed long dune-land searches and marshland specialties, they circled our heads in a farewell parade. They may be one of the greatest organisms on our planet.