ONE SPRING, while working on a book about foxes, I spent several weeks camping alone in a tent at Trapper's Lake in Prince Albert National Park, Saskatchewan. I had no running water or electricity, but I did have visits from a mama moose with her twin calves, grey jays landing on my Coleman stove, and bedtime music provided by wolves, owls, and loons.

Crawling from the tent one crisp morning to get the coffee started, I was treated to an amazing sight. It looked as though someone had decorated the shoreline trees and bushes with thousands of glittering golden baubles. A closer look revealed that the sparkle came from sunlight shimmering on the wings of legions of dragonflies that were clinging to branches.

Sometime before I arose, they had emerged from the water, where they may have lived in their larval form for as long as five years. Bursting from their old skins in a new shape, they had taken to the trees to wait while their wings hardened and the sun warmed them. The empty white skins they left behind littered the beach. In less than an hour, the dragonflies dispersed to live the final months of their life, the dazzling spectacle of their emergence unseen by anyone else.

I've always enjoyed watching dragonflies and their close relatives, damselflies. Together, they comprise the insect order Ondonata, which includes more than 5,000 species, living around the world in temperate and tropical zones. Damselflies are generally daintier in body shape, and they tend to rest with their wings folded up over their backs, or just slightly open. Dragonflies are stockier, and rest with their two pairs of wings spread flat. Harmless to people, dragonflies and damselflies are winged death to a wide variety of insects, including mosquitoes, gnats and flies.

A dragonfly's huge, compound eyes provide a 360-degree field of view in which to seek prey. Each eye contains nearly 30,000 lenslets, or ommatidia, and each of those functions independently, producing its own piece of the surrounding view. The dragonfly's view of the world is sharpest across a wedge above the horizon in front of it. Directly to the rear, the image quality becomes poor, but still allows the insect to detect motion.

Scientists recently discovered that dragonflies employ an optical illusion called motion camouflage, in which the dragonfly moves in such a way that it appears to its prey as a stationary object, even as it attacks.

Dragonflies are the world's fastest insects, capable of reaching speeds between 30 and 60 kilometres per hour. They can stop on far less than a dime, and perform incredible aerial acrobatics. They may cover more than 130 kilometres in a day. All this on wings that appear as fragile as soap bubbles.

In reality, those wings are tough yet flexible, capable of adjusting in many ways to provide optimum power and control. Something I find amazing, given my own lack of coordination, is the fact that a dragonfly can do dissimilar things with different wings at the same time, constantly adjusting "on the fly."

On these golden mornings and sultry summer afternoons, when the flash of light on crystalline wings catches your eye, I hope you'll pause in your labours long enough to admire the sparkling dance of the dragonfly.