Dragonflies hunt the longest evening
June 5, 2026
The ponds near Quartier des Quais hold the day's heat as evening stretches toward ten o'clock. If you're walking here now, step closer to the water's edge. The surface dimples and breaks as insects rise from below, and above them, dragonflies patrol in wide, deliberate circles.Scarce Chasers hang motionless in the air, their amber wings catching the slanted light. Four-spotted Skimmers dart between the reeds, each bearing the dark patches that mark their wing tips like ink spots on paper. Both species hunt with a precision that comes from compound eyes holding twenty-eight thousand lenses. They see movement in nearly every direction, tracking the smallest mayflies and midges that lift from the water in clouds too dense to count. A Scarce Chaser tilts forward, accelerates in a straight line, and closes its legs around a midge in a motion too quick to follow. It returns to its hunting post to eat.These longest days of early summer trigger the year's greatest emergence. Aquatic insects that have spent months or years underwater as nymphs sense the warming surface and rise together. Mayflies shed their nymphal skins at the waterline. Midges spiral upward in mating swarms. Caddisflies unfold their tent-like wings for the first time. The dragonflies position themselves in the air above this abundance, intercepting insects before they can disperse inland or complete their mating flights. A Four-spotted Skimmer can catch and consume dozens of prey in a single evening hunt. The invasive Asian Lady Beetles that cluster on nearby vegetation take smaller prey, but the dragonflies work the air itself, claiming insects that no ground-dwelling predator can reach.The light fades slowly, but the hunt continues. Dragonflies see well into twilight, their large eyes gathering the last photons of day. They patrol the same aerial territories they claimed at noon, following invisible boundaries marked by the best emergence sites and the most reliable updrafts. A Scarce Chaser hovers above a patch of water where mayflies continue to break the surface. The Four-spotted Skimmers work the margins, where emergent vegetation provides both perches and shelter for rising insects. This is the hour when the water releases its winter's work: all the larvae that fed and grew in the cold months now fuel the summer air. Listen for the dry whisper of dragonfly wings cutting through the evening quiet, and watch the water's surface catch the last light as it dimples and stills.
Glow-worms and the night shift
May 21, 2026
The meadows around Parc Leopold settle into dusk with the last calls of wood pigeons fading from the ash trees. Night brings a different kind of activity to these Brussels wetlands, one that requires darkness to reveal itself. Step outside if you can. Let your eyes adjust to the growing shadows between the hedgerows.In the grass beneath your feet, European glow-worms are beginning their ancient courtship. The females climb the tallest stems they can find, positioning themselves like tiny lighthouses in the vegetation. Each one carries a chemical lantern in her abdomen, mixing luciferin and luciferase with oxygen to produce a cold green light. No heat escapes this process. The energy goes entirely into illumination, a beacon that can shine for hours without burning the insect that makes it.The males patrol the darkness, their large eyes scanning for these pinpricks of bioluminescence. They are smaller than the females, built for flight rather than light production. Their compound eyes contain thousands of individual lenses, each one capable of detecting the faintest glow from thirty feet away. When a male spots a female's light, he lands nearby and begins his approach. The female can control her beacon, dimming it or brightening it as potential mates draw closer. She evaluates each suitor, and only the most persistent will earn the chance to mate. This threatened species depends entirely on this light-based conversation, conducted in a language older than human settlements in these wetlands. The females need tall, undisturbed grass to position their lights effectively. The males require corridors of darkness to navigate between glowing signals. Modern lighting disrupts both needs, washing out the subtle communications that have evolved over millions of breeding seasons.Other night hunters move through this same darkness. Bats patrol the airspace above the glow-worms, following echolocation maps that reveal flying insects invisible to human eyes. The invasive Asian lady beetles cluster beneath bark and stones, waiting for dawn to resume their hunt for aphids. Native ground beetles emerge from day roosts to hunt smaller prey along the soil surface. Each species has claimed a different layer of the night, dividing the darkness like territories on a map. The glow-worms occupy the narrow zone between ground and canopy, their lights threading through grass stems and low shrubs where their signals can travel farthest.Close your eyes and listen to the night settling around you. The temperature drops with the sun, and moisture begins to gather on the grass blades. Somewhere in the darkness nearby, if you are still and patient, you might catch the faintest green glow moving slowly up a stem, a female glow-worm climbing toward her spotlight moment in the Brussels night.
