Brilliant colors and elegant flight like aerial ballet might suggest hummingbirds, but nothing about the shape would ever cause such a confusion.
Nothing looks like a dragonfly except a dragonfly. And they are nothing if not worth looking at.
The dragonflies constitute one well-defined and easily distinguished order of insects called "Odonata." This name -- a Latinized version of a Greek word meaning "tooth" -- was devised by Johan Christian Fabricius in the late 1700s.
One would think conspicuous attributes such as body form, wing structure and flight style would inspire a clearer name than do obscure attributes of the mouth. But nobody argued with Fabricius, not then and apparently not since.
Today, some enthusiasts -- a small but growing throng -- insist on a more restrained use of the name "dragonfly." They prefer using the general name "odonate" for any species in the order then using "dragonfly" and "damselfly" for two different suborders, groups that differ by eyes and wings.
Damselflies have separated eyes that do not touch; dragonflies have larger eyes that touch along the center line of the head.
Damselflies have hindwings that are very nearly the same size and shape as the forewings; and when at rest, they fold their wings lengthwise in a vertical plane above their bodies. Dragonflies have hindwings that are both wider and slightly shorter than the forewings; and when at rest, they hold their wings in a horizontal plane extending outwards from their bodies.
Diversity of the odonates is unsettled. Published figures range from 5,000 to almost 6,000 species worldwide. Between 100 and 110 occur in Colorado; the figure 108 is frequently used. And of these, at least 52 species have been documented in Larimer County.
This summer, for reasons I do not understand, dragons and damsels seem locally more abundant than usual. A hawker or a skimmer, a whitetail or an emerald, a chaser or a pondhawk will greet you and share with you any place or occasion.
Your picnic includes chicken and watermelon; their picnic includes mosquitoes and midges. And anything else they can catch.
Twice during my years afield, I have seen single zealous dragonflies attempting to eat pine siskins, diminutive cousins of the goldfinches. The dragonflies would not give up though they could not ultimately subdue the siskins; the siskins, however, could not get away while encumbered with a maniacal dragonfly clinging to them.
The odonates exemplify how easy it is to see some wildlife and to perceive it as belonging to a place. A bauble on a cattail like a bulb on a Christmas tree. Like a Christmas ornament, they are exquisite once you devote some time and effort to really look at them.
Rich colors in fine patterns rival anything a butterfly or a hummingbird can offer. And now, good field guides and Internet resources are available to help you learn one species from another.
Nevermind smelling the flowers; look at the dragons and the damsels. They make a walk around a familiar marsh or meadow seem like a first-time experience.
Dragonflies: they dance and they perch; they eat, they mate and they die. But always they inspire, if only a tiny bit of awe.
Kevin J. Cook is a freelance writer and naturalist based in Fort Collins. His Wildlife Window column appears in the Reporter-Herald every Thursday.