Wetlands, wings, and why New Mexico is home to one of North America’s top dragonfly shows.
Mention Roswell, New Mexico, and most people immediately picture UFOs and mysterious things in the sky. But head just a few miles northeast of town each September and you’ll find another aerial show — this one very real, very ancient, and with way more wings. Welcome to the Dragonfly Festival at Bitter Lake National Wildlife Refuge, where the stars aren’t little green men but jewel-winged insects with flight skills that put any drone to shame.
For two days, this southeast New Mexico refuge comes alive with family-friendly tours, hands-on activities, and presentations that dive deep into the watery world dragonflies and damselflies call home. Read on for a closer look at the festival — and the dragonflies that make it worth the trip.

Table of Contents
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A Short History of Bitter Lake
The name “Bitter Lake” comes from the alkaline water that early ranchers found undrinkable but wildlife found irresistible. Springs bubbling up from the Roswell Aquifer created wetlands, sinkholes, and playa lakes that became magnets for birds, amphibians, and insects in the middle of New Mexico’s otherwise arid landscape.
Recognizing the area’s importance, the U.S. government first set it aside in 1935 as the Carlsbad Bird Refuge. Two years later, in 1937, it became Bitter Lake National Wildlife Refuge, established to protect key wintering grounds for sandhill cranes, snow geese, and other migratory birds. Much of the early infrastructure — levees, water-control structures, and staff quarters — was built by the Civilian Conservation Corps, and their handiwork still shapes the refuge today.
Bitter Lake’s conservation status only deepened over time. The 9,600-acre Salt Creek Wilderness was added in 1970 to protect upland desert and sinkhole terrain. In 1980, the refuge was declared a National Natural Landmark, and in 2010 it gained international recognition as a Ramsar Wetland of Importance.
Today the refuge protects more than 24,000 acres at the crossroads of the Chihuahuan Desert and the Southern Plains. Those gypsum-rich waters support habitats found almost nowhere else — and with them, three species found only here. I’m sure they’re household names you bring up in everyday conversation: the Pecos pupfish, the Roswell springsnail, and Noel’s amphipod. Add in more than 100 species of dragonflies and damselflies, and you’ve got one of the most surprising biodiversity hotspots in the American Southwest. That richness sparked the Dragonfly Festival more than two decades ago, turning a quiet refuge into the stage for one of the region’s most distinctive wildlife celebrations.




Inside the Dragonfly Festival
The Dragonfly Festival at Bitter Lake National Wildlife Refuge isn’t your typical fairground event. Instead of fried Twinkies and carnival rides, you’ll find:
- Guided Dragonfly Tours – Hop in a van with professional dragonfly experts, head into normally closed areas, and step out beside ponds teeming with odonates (the fancy name for dragonflies and damselflies).
- Birding & Wildlife Tours – Where there are dragonflies, there are also frogs, turtles, shorebirds, rails, and the occasional pelican gliding in.
- Presentations & Talks – Experts share insights on dragonflies and damselflies, while other sessions spotlight rattlesnakes and raptors. Together, the talks give festivalgoers a broader look at the refuge’s role in protecting desert wildlife of all shapes and sizes.
The 2025 Dragonfly Festival weekend kicked off Friday evening (September 5) with a presentation on dragonflies. Saturday was the main event — a full day that began with early morning birding, followed by a dragonfly tour, a rattlesnake talk, a monarch butterfly release, and a raptor demonstration, plus food trucks and local vendors. Of course, attendees can pick and choose what to see. I went for the full Monty.
Let’s start with the birds, and then we’ll take a deep dive into dragonflies and damselflies.
Birding Bitter Lake National Wildlife Refuge
For birders, Bitter Lake is like striking gold in the desert. The refuge sits right along the Central Flyway, making it a critical stopover for migrating species. Each fall and winter, skies fill with the honking calls of sandhill cranes and the rhythmic wingbeats of snow geese — thousands of them using the wetlands as a rest and refueling station. Add in rafts of ducks, grebes, and shorebirds, and you’ve got a checklist that can keep binoculars busy all day long. It’s no surprise Bitter Lake ranks among New Mexico’s premier birding destinations for species diversity. According to eBird, 351 species of birds have been recorded here, making it second in the state only to the world-renowned Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge.
But it’s not just about the big flocks. Bitter Lake’s mix of marshes, grasslands, and desert scrub creates a patchwork of habitats that attracts an impressive variety of resident and seasonal birds. Wading birds like the white-faced ibis, American avocet, and black-necked stilt are regular sights in the shallows. Look closer and you might spot a vermilion flycatcher perched like a red spark on the cattails, or a loggerhead shrike scanning the open fields. Raptors, from northern harriers ghosting low over the marsh to Swainson’s hawks circling high above, also make regular appearances.
The refuge has several auto tour routes and trails that make birding accessible even if you’re short on time. A slow drive around the wetlands at sunrise or sunset is especially rewarding — not only for the birds, but for the chance to watch the desert put on its own light show. Whether you’re a life-list chaser or a casual observer, Bitter Lake delivers.
Of course, reading about Bitter Lake’s bird life is one thing — seeing it for yourself is another. I got my chance during the Dragonfly Festival, when I signed up for the early morning birding tour. That meant prying myself out of bed at 5:15 a.m. in my Roswell hotel, wolfing down microwave oatmeal while packing the car. Twenty minutes later, I rolled into the Bitter Lake parking lot with two minutes to spare.

At 6:30 sharp, we loaded into a van and were soon off for a special treat: access to areas of the refuge normally off-limits to visitors.

By the end of the circuit, my notebook held a modest list for Bitter Lake, but a satisfying one all the same — stilts, sandpipers, avocets, pelicans, rails, a kingfisher, and an osprey. Virginia Rails and Sora called back when our guide banged on the truck door while we sat inside — something I would’ve never thought to try, and a good reminder of why it pays to go out with knowledgeable guides. Here’s the complete tally from our two-hour outing:
- American Avocet – 80
- American White Pelican – 6
- Baird’s Sandpiper – 1
- Belted Kingfisher – 1
- Black-crowned Night Heron – 1
- Black-necked Stilt – 2
- Blue-winged Teal – 10
- Cliff Swallow – 2
- Greater Yellowlegs – 5
- Killdeer – 1
- Least Sandpiper – 3
- Lesser Yellowlegs – 5
- Long-billed Dowitcher – 100
- Northern Harrier – 2
- Northern Shoveler – 1
- Osprey – 1
- Red-winged Blackbird – 15
- Savannah Sparrow – 2
- Snowy Egret – 10
- Sora – 4
- Stilt Sandpiper – 6
- Virginia Rail – 3
- Western Sandpiper – 10







Dragonflies: Why They Deserve Their Own Festival
You don’t have to spend much time at Bitter Lake National Wildlife Refuge to realize dragonflies are more than just brilliant wings zipping by the water. They’re ancient survivors, ecological workhorses, and they also happen to be some of the coolest insects on the planet.
Dragonflies: Nature’s 300-Million-Year Success Story
Dragonflies and their cousins, the damselflies, have been around for about 300 million years. That means they were buzzing along for roughly 70 million years before the first dinosaurs showed up. Even after all that time, they really haven’t changed much — a testament to a very successful design. Some of their early relatives, like Meganeuropsis permiana (the giant griffinfly), sported wingspans close to 28 inches — about the size of a hawk. Scientists believe they could reach such giant proportions thanks to the Earth’s oxygen-rich atmosphere at the time, which made it easier for insects to breathe through their tiny air tubes. Today’s dragonflies are a bit more modest, usually topping out at 7 or 8 inches across. So if you want a glimpse of what insects looked like back in the Jurassic, just head out to Bitter Lake and watch a darner hover in place.
Even as larvae, dragonflies are impressive. Dragonfly nymphs spend the vast majority of their lives underwater — sometimes up to six years — and breathe by pumping water through organs in their rectum. They can even use that same system for jet propulsion — yes, baby dragonflies literally fart their way across ponds like tiny aquatic rockets.
After all those years below the surface, their time in the air is surprisingly short. Most adults only live a few weeks, though long-distance migrants like the Green Darner or Wandering Glider can stretch it to four to six months at best. Damselflies follow a similar script: months or years in the water, then a brief but dazzling season of flight. In both groups, it’s a life story defined by patience — years underwater, followed by one last chance to show off in the sky.

Dragonflies, Damselflies, and Their Odd Cousins
Worldwide, there are about 6,400 species of dragonflies and damselflies. North America hosts roughly 544 species, and New Mexico punches well above its weight with about 150 species total — around 97 dragonflies and 55 damselflies. Bitter Lake National Wildlife Refuge alone boasts about 100 species, making it one of the most diverse single sites in the country.
All dragonflies and damselflies belong to the order Odonata, which splits into three suborders:
- Dragonflies (Anisoptera): Hold their wings open like little biplanes when perched, have robust “cigar-shaped” bodies, and big eyes that usually touch. They’re strong fliers, patrolling wetlands with speed and power. Think of them as the hawks of the insect world.
- Damselflies (Zygoptera): More delicate, holding their wings closed over their backs when resting. Their eyes are separated, their bodies slender, and their flight is more fluttery and graceful — the ballerinas of the Odonata stage.
- Anisozygoptera: The “living fossils.” These rare insects survive only in Asia, with just two known species — the Asian relict dragonfly (Epiophlebia superstes) and the Himalayan relict dragonfly (Epiophlebia laidlawi). They blend features of both dragonflies and damselflies, offering a glimpse into the evolutionary past. You won’t see them in New Mexico, but just knowing they’re out there adds another interesting layer to the dragonfly story.
As adults, dragonflies are built like cigars with wings. Those wings aren’t just for show—they allow forward flight, hovering, sideways glides, and even backward maneuvers that would put a stunt pilot to shame. Add in 360° vision from massive compound eyes and one of the most sophisticated color-detection systems on Earth (they have 11–30 color sensors compared to our measly three), and you get a hunter that rarely misses. Mosquitoes don’t stand a chance. No wonder they’ve been around for 300 million years.
Dragonflies and damselflies are predators from cradle to grave. As larvae, they lurk underwater like little ambush hunters, devouring mosquito larvae, tiny aquatic insects, and sometimes even tadpoles or fish fry with their extendable jaws. Once they take to the air, the menu shifts to mosquitoes, gnats, midges, mayflies, and just about anything else they can scoop out of the sky. Dragonflies, with their power and speed, can take down larger prey and nail their targets about 95% of the time — a hunting success rate most lions and wolves could only dream of. Damselflies go after smaller insects with more delicate maneuvers, but they’re every bit as effective.



The World’s Most Well-Traveled Dragonfly
Some dragonflies are homebodies, sticking to a single pond. Others are marathon migrants. The Wandering Glider (Pantala flavescens) ranks among nature’s most epic travelers — crossing oceans and covering thousands of miles in multi-generational circuits. No single insect makes the full trip; it’s more like a relay race. One generation lays eggs in rain-fed ponds, the young race through the nymph stage in weeks, and the next takes off with the winds to continue the journey. In a single year, four to six generations can complete a 14,000-mile circuit. They’re found on every continent except Antarctica — and yes, New Mexico sits right along their path. Not bad for an insect that weighs less than a paperclip.
Romance, Odonata-Style
Mating is a full-blown production. Males latch onto females just behind the head with special claspers, eventually forming the famous “wheel position” that looks like a flying heart. They can manage short flights in this posture, but most of the action happens while perched. Even after mating, the male keeps his grip behind the female’s neck as they fly in tandem — often staying hitched until she lays her eggs. In the dragonfly world, rival males can scrape away a competitor’s sperm and replace it with their own. The male’s grip is his insurance policy.
One slide from the Friday night dragonfly presentation even featured an ‘Ode to Romance’ from a male odonate:
“I’m keeping my claspers
Stuck tight near your head,
While you insert your eggs
Into a plant that is dead.”
Not exactly sonnets and roses, but it tells the story.


Why Dragonflies Deserve a Festival (and Why Bitter Lake Delivers)
Wetlands are lifeblood for dragonflies, and Bitter Lake happens to be one of the richest wetland complexes in the Southwest. Fed by underground springs, it stitches together marshes, ponds, playa lakes, and river corridors — a rare mix of habitats that draws both resident and migratory species. By late summer, the refuge is buzzing (literally) with dragonflies and damselflies in every shape, size, and color, making it the perfect stage for a festival.
So why all the fuss over dragonflies? Because they’re not just insects. They’re survivors from deep time, descended from giants that once ruled prehistoric swamps. They’re natural mosquito control, agile hunters, and marathon migrants capable of crossing oceans. In many cultures, dragonflies carry deeper meaning. In Japan, they’ve symbolized courage and victory since the days of the samurai. In Native American traditions, they represent swiftness, adaptability, and change. Across Europe, their shimmering wings have long been linked with light and clarity. And here in New Mexico, we’re lucky enough to have front-row seats to one of the best dragonfly shows in North America.


When Rattlesnakes Join the Dragonfly Festival
The Bitter Lake Dragonfly Festival may be dedicated to dragonflies and damselflies, but this year came with a surprise guest list—rattlesnakes. Nathan and Tony, owners of Big Country Serpentarium out of Abilene, Texas, rolled in with live rattlesnakes representing every species found in New Mexico. Nothing like seeing a western diamondback a few feet away to remind you to watch where you put your hands and feet on a hike.
The duo shared some jaw-dropping relocation stories. At one house in Wichita, they removed 127 rattlesnakes. Another home had 91 snakes living under the floorboards. Moral of the story: just because you don’t see them doesn’t mean they’re not there. Sweet dreams.
In New Mexico, the western diamondback tops the charts as the most common rattler, with the prairie rattlesnake coming in second. If you want the full species rundown, check out my post Rattled in New Mexico? 7 Rattlesnake Myths (and What to Do if You Spot One).
As for what to do if you get bitten, Nathan and Tony know that subject a little too well — Nathan has been bitten seven times, Tony five. Their advice was straightforward: get to the emergency room immediately, remove any restrictive clothing or jewelry if swelling starts, and call ahead so the hospital can prep antivenom. Tony also offered this perspective: the U.S. averages about 7,000–8,000 venomous snakebites a year, but only around five fatalities. In other words, you’re more likely to choke to death on a marshmallow (11 deaths in 2023) than be killed by a rattlesnake. Let that sink in next time you’re making s’mores.
And here’s a demographic tidbit that probably won’t surprise you: 90% of bites are to men aged 18–35. Enough said.
Nathan and Tony walked us through New Mexico’s rattlesnake species, safety tips, and common myths, and then gave everyone the chance to touch a Texas indigo snake — non-venomous, of course, and even known to prey on rattlesnakes. The real takeaway was simple: rattlesnakes aren’t villains. They’re important predators that help keep rodent populations in check, and they’d much rather avoid us than confront us. I enjoyed the presentation, and Nathan and Tony are great ambassadors for the world of snakes.




Raptors Up Close
I didn’t make it to the live raptor presentation, but earlier in the day I had the chance to meet some of the birds myself. There’s nothing quite like gazing into the eyes of a hawk or standing a few feet from a silent, watchful owl. The program featured rehabilitated raptors—hawks, owls, and falcons—while the handler shared their conservation stories and explained why protecting habitat like Bitter Lake matters for predators at the top of the food chain.


The Monarch Butterfly Release
The last activity I caught at the festival was the monarch butterfly release. Aimed at kids, it gives them the chance to hold a monarch in their hand and set it free as it begins its journey south. The butterflies were brought in from Michigan for the event — though Albuquerque has a rearing facility of its own.
Monarchs are the orange-and-black icons of migration, traveling thousands of miles each fall from North America to the mountain forests of central Mexico. It’s a journey that still feels miraculous. At the same time, monarch populations have plummeted in recent decades. The biggest culprits? Milkweed loss across the Midwest breeding grounds, logging and degradation in their Mexican wintering forests, pesticides that wipe out both milkweed and nectar sources, and the steady fragmentation of habitat along their migration route. Watching them lift off over Bitter Lake was a reminder that places like this aren’t just dragonfly havens — they’re vital stopovers in a much larger web of life.



Beyond the Festival: Bitter Lake Year-Round
Even if you miss the festival, Bitter Lake is worth a visit any time of year. Boardwalks and short hiking trails, like the Dragonfly Overlook Trail, make it easy to step into wetland habitats without breaking a sweat. In winter, birders arrive for the spectacle of migratory waterfowl, while summer brings wildflowers, dragonflies, and plenty of opportunities for photographers to wear out their camera batteries.
Fall might be the best season of all, when migration hits full stride. Snow geese, sandhill cranes, and raptors funnel through in numbers that can stop you in your tracks. Pair a visit with a stop in Roswell and you’ve got a trip that combines science fiction with natural history — not a bad two-for-one.
Join the Buzz
The Dragonfly Festival isn’t just about admiring wings in motion. Visitors are encouraged to roll up their sleeves and contribute to real science—whether it’s logging birds you spot in eBird, tracking wildlife in iNaturalist, joining groups like the Dragonfly Society of the Americas, supporting the Friends of Bitter Lake NWR, or getting involved with the Xerces Society, a nonprofit focused on protecting insects and other invertebrates. Conservation isn’t just for scientists in lab coats—anyone with curiosity and a good eye can play a part. Even something as simple as collecting shed larval skins (called exuviae), which cling to reeds and cattails after dragonflies emerge, helps researchers confirm which species are breeding successfully.
Step away from the digital world for a while, and you may find the natural one to be far more interesting and rewarding company. Sure, it might lead to a few nerdy shirts in your wardrobe—but that’s part of the fun. And if one of them says “Ask me about my exuviae,” wear it proudly.

Final Thoughts
The Dragonfly Festival at Bitter Lake might not be as famous as Roswell’s UFO Festival, but in its own way, it’s just as otherworldly. Watching a flame skimmer hover like a ruby in the sun, or a blue-eyed darner zip past with precision flight, you realize you’re looking at living fossils that have been perfecting their craft for 300 million years.
But the festival isn’t just about insects. It’s about the bigger story of Bitter Lake: a wetland oasis where rattlesnakes keep ecosystems balanced, raptors soar as apex predators, and monarch butterflies pause on one of the most remarkable migrations in nature. Together, these experiences remind you that New Mexico’s desert is alive in ways you might never expect.
Come for the dragonflies, stay for the wetlands, and leave with the reminder that sometimes the most remarkable “alien encounters” are right here on Earth.
📚Want to learn more?
If you’d like to dive deeper into the dazzling world of dragonflies and damselflies, here are some of the best resources to keep exploring:
- Dragonflies of North America by Ed Lam — A beautifully illustrated Princeton Field Guide, and one of the most trusted resources for dragonfly ID across the continent.
- Dragonflies and Damselflies of the West by Dennis Paulson — Another Princeton Field Guide, this one zeroes in on western species, including many you’ll encounter in New Mexico.
- Dragonflies and Damselflies of the East by Dennis Paulson — Same as above, but for eastern North America.
- Dragonflies and Damselflies: A Natural History by Dennis Paulson— An engaging and highly accessible introduction to these insects, packed with excellent photos and fascinating natural history.
Thought for the Week
This week’s “Thought for the Week” comes from entomologist Howard Ensign Evans (1919–2002), who grew up in Massachusetts and went on to become one of the most influential insect biologists of the 20th century. His classic Life on a Little Known Planet: A Biologist’s View of Insects and their World managed to turn the six-legged world into something both funny and profound. Evans had a knack for showing us that even the tiniest creatures carry outsized importance — not just for the ecosystems they anchor, but for the future we’re still stumbling toward. Along the way, he wrote plenty more (including The Man Who Loved Wasps, Wasp Farm, The Pleasures of Entomology, and Pioneer Naturalists: The Discovery and Naming of North American Plants and Animals), each one blending sharp science with the kind of storytelling that makes you see insects — and the people who study them — in a whole new light.
Evans wasn’t just a writer with a flair for insect anecdotes. He was a world-class entomologist with a lifelong passion for wasps, and he became one of the leading authorities on their behavior and ecology. Much of his career was spent as a professor at Colorado State University, where he continued researching, teaching, and writing until the end of his life. Over the course of his career, he published more than 250 scientific papers and described new species, but he was just as devoted to teaching and to making science accessible. What set him apart was his ability to weave humor, philosophy, and sharp science together — helping generations of readers see insects not as curiosities, but as windows into how life itself works.
The quote this week isn’t about admiring insects simply for their beauty, but for their role as problem-solvers. It speaks to the idea that nature often holds the answers before we’ve even thought to ask the questions — whether it’s the flight mechanics of a dragonfly inspiring engineers, or an obscure snail in a Bitter Lake sinkhole hinting at untapped ecological wisdom.
Standing at Bitter Lake, surrounded by dragonflies, damselflies, monarchs, and the rare species that live nowhere else, Evans’s words feel especially relevant. Protecting places like this isn’t just about today’s enjoyment — it’s about preserving tomorrow’s possibilities.
“It has been said that for every problem concerning living things there is an organism ideal for its solution. It is probable that there are still undiscovered species living that hold the answers to problems that face us now or will in the future.”
— Howard Ensign Evans
Thanks for reading and happy travels!
Mark (The New Mexico Travel Guy)

Mark Aspelin, The New Mexico Travel Guy (www.newmexicotravelguy.com), is a travel writer, conservation biologist, project manager, and author of two books. He’s visited over 100 countries and all 50 U.S. states—just enough to land in the Travelers’ Century Club and make choosing a favorite place nearly impossible. He’s currently on a questionable mission to visit every town in New Mexico (there are over 500) and write a story about each one, with plans to wrap it up sometime before his early to mid-100s. Mark balances his writing with conservation and project work from his home base in the East Mountains near Albuquerque, New Mexico.




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