Watch a Dragonfly's Grotesque and Beautiful Metamorphosis

A dragonfly breaking out of its larval skin

Join Our Community of Science Lovers!

Yale astronomer Pieter van Dokkum has a passion for insects—especially dragonflies, which he photographs in exquisite detail near his home in Connecticut. He captured this time-lapse video, below, of the metamorphosis of a common green darner dragonfly from a larval nymph.

More of his photos can be found in the new large-format book Dragonflies: Magnificent Creatures of Water, Air and Land (Yale University Press, 2015), which we profile in Scientific American’s April issue. Here, in van Dokkum’s words, is the story behind the video:

“In the early evening the dragonfly nymph climbs to the top of a reed. She then bends her abdomen while breathing in air, cracking open her skin right below the head. The dragonfly emerges headfirst and upside down. Hanging from the nymph shell, she has to wait until her legs harden before she is able to crawl out and turn around. In the space of about 15 minutes she extends her wings by pumping air into them. Over the next three to four hours her abdomen slowly extends and hardens. Shortly before dawn she spreads her wings. With the first light of the sun the newly emerged dragonfly takes off on her maiden voyage, leaving her old life (and skin) behind.


On supporting science journalism

If you're enjoying this article, consider supporting our award-winning journalism by subscribing. By purchasing a subscription you are helping to ensure the future of impactful stories about the discoveries and ideas shaping our world today.


The sequence of photographs was taken over the course of a single night, starting around 10 P.M. and ending around 8 A.M. I took these shots manually, with a camera on a tripod: as described above, some phases happen quite quickly, requiring a shutter press every second or so, and others take several hours.

I had visited a pond near my home for several nights in search of a nymph that was about to undergo metamorphosis. This involved wading in the pond at night and inspecting the vegetation to see if there was a nymph on its way to the top. I finally found one and set up my camera, a comfortable chair and a book, plus reading light: I was expecting to spend the entire night there. The moment everything was in place lightning filled the sky and it became clear that a big thunderstorm was about to begin. As there was no possibility of safely photographing the nymph where we were, I decided the both of us should leave. I cut off the reed, with the nymph halfway to the top, and gently placed it on the passenger seat of my car. I drove home, secured the reed in a small tripod just outside the garage and set up my camera in the garage looking out. The nymph continued its upward journey as if nothing had happened and began the metamorphosis after it reached the top.”

Clara Moskowitz is chief of reporters at Scientific American, where she covers astronomy, space, physics and mathematics. She has been at Scientific American for more than a decade; previously she worked at Space.com. Moskowitz has reported live from rocket launches, space shuttle liftoffs and landings, suborbital spaceflight training, mountaintop observatories, and more. She has a bachelor’s degree in astronomy and physics from Wesleyan University and a graduate degree in science communication from the University of California, Santa Cruz.

More by Clara Moskowitz
Scientific American Magazine Vol 312 Issue 4This article was published with the title “A Dragonfly's Grotesque and Beautiful Metamorphosis” in Scientific American Magazine Vol. 312 No. 4 ()
doi:10.1038/scientificamerican042015-2nz6KBODiwkQhBIn6KLzId

It’s Time to Stand Up for Science

If you enjoyed this article, I’d like to ask for your support. Scientific American has served as an advocate for science and industry for 180 years, and right now may be the most critical moment in that two-century history.

I’ve been a Scientific American subscriber since I was 12 years old, and it helped shape the way I look at the world. SciAm always educates and delights me, and inspires a sense of awe for our vast, beautiful universe. I hope it does that for you, too.

If you subscribe to Scientific American, you help ensure that our coverage is centered on meaningful research and discovery; that we have the resources to report on the decisions that threaten labs across the U.S.; and that we support both budding and working scientists at a time when the value of science itself too often goes unrecognized.

In return, you get essential news, captivating podcasts, brilliant infographics, can't-miss newsletters, must-watch videos, challenging games, and the science world's best writing and reporting. You can even gift someone a subscription.

There has never been a more important time for us to stand up and show why science matters. I hope you’ll support us in that mission.

Thank you,

David M. Ewalt, Editor in Chief, Scientific American

Subscribe