The ballerina of the insect world. Slender, delicate and adorned in flashes of metallic red or blue, the damselfly moves with a graceful, fluttering flight that seems almost too fragile for the rough-and-tumble business of hunting. Unlike its bulky cousin the dragonfly, the damselfly holds its wings together over its back when at rest, looking like a tiny, colourful spear resting on a leaf. It is a creature of elegance, but do not mistake grace for weakness. Beneath that delicate exterior lies a ruthless predator. Both the adult and the aquatic nymph, called a naiad, are carnivores. The adults snatch mosquitoes, flies and aphids out of the air with pinpoint accuracy, using their basket-like legs to trap prey mid-flight. The nymphs, lurking underwater among the weeds, possess an extendable mask, a modified lower lip that shoots out to grab passing tadpoles or water fleas with terrifying speed. It is a biological harpoon, executed in milliseconds. Their life cycle is a tale of two worlds. They spend up to a year as underwater hunters, breathing through gills at the tip of their abdomen, before climbing a reed to emerge as winged adults. The transformation is dramatic. The dull, brown nymph splits its skin to reveal the vibrant, iridescent adult within. They are a symbol of metamorphosis and fragility, yet they have survived unchanged for millions of years. Males are often brightly coloured to attract mates. Females are more subdued, allowing them to blend in with vegetation while laying eggs. Mating pairs form a heart-shaped wheel in the air, an intricate dance that ends with the female depositing her eggs into aquatic plants. To see a pair mating in a heart-shaped wheel above the water is to witness one of nature's most intricate dances. The kāpeka was observed by Māori as a sign of summer and healthy waterways. Their delicate appearance contrasted with their predatory skill, a duality often recognised in nature stories.