The dragonfly. Irridescent, illusive, not overly familiar, darting here and there and fairly short lived. There are 5,000 species and they have been flitting about for thousands of years. I think their iridescent wings are fascinating.
I have a small collection and once shared the affinity with a dear woman who is now deceased. When I think of her I am newly amused by thoughts of a sign on her property on St. Simon's Island.
Having trouble recalling the wordage, I decided to see what I could find on Google and there it was. Her sign and it is properly attributed to a "home on St. Simon's".
Beverly left us a few years ago after telling me that she gave up on the sign since it was constantly being stolen in recent years. That speaks to what we all know is a tide in the affairs of men. It makes me sad.
According to a friend who also has a home there, the sign was replaced
last year. I appreciate the property heirs who did that to honor her.
Since Spring came and went in a couple of weeks, I am now on the lookout for one of my favorite summertime creatures.
Today I saw the dragon-fly
Come from the wells where he did lie.
An inner impulse rent the veil
Of his old husk: from head to tail
Came out clear plates of sapphire mail.
He dried his wings: like gauze they grew;
Thro' crofts and pastures wet with dew
A living flash of light he flew.
by Alfred Lord Tennyson