Dragonfly

Deep in the sun-searched growths the dragonfly

Hangs like a blue thread loosened from the sky.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Dragonflies

Swiftly

they fly, hunting-

beautiful and deadly,

prehistoric dragons circling

a pond.

They are an ancient species. Older than dinosaurs.

Smaller now, once they were as big as eagles.

As larva, growing in the water, they shed skin after skin - feeding safely, in protective armor, on the unwary prey within their grasp.

Then, after years, they creep out of the muddy depths for one final molting.

Slicing through their own skins, becoming more vulnerable than they’d ever been, they emerge. Fragile wings and metallic bodies unfold. Many die at this stage; consumed by predators taking advantage of a temporary weakness.

Those who live become swift and deadly hunters, killing 90% of the prey they seek.

Dragons indeed.

A damselfly contemplating a single drop of water

Grasping a web, he can prey on the spider as well as the spider’s catch.

The damsels are slower and slimmer, but more flexible.

It’s looking at you!

If you want to know more about dragonflies, click here.

Hope you enjoyed this - I had fun writing it. I love dragonflies, and I know so many people see them as a symbol of good luck. I do as well, if only because I love to watch them, but I never forget that the survival instinct is ruthless, and nature is both beautiful and treacherous.

Thank you so much for being here with me! I had an amazing road trip through Wyoming and South Dakota for the last couple weeks, and I will share more from that experience in upcoming posts See you next Friday!

Blossom and Bee

For bees, the flower is the fountain of life; For flowers, the bee is the messenger of love.

Kahlil Gibran

Blossom to Bee

Come to me,

my nectar is sweet-

my fine filament caressing.

harvest my pollen,

I have plenty

for your beloved queen -

plenty for you

to scatter.

I cannot move

beyond this ground-

please carry my love,

carry my song,

I cannot speak without you

come,

drink deeply,

and help me.

Bee to the Blossom

I fly to you,

you draw me in -

your scent is intoxicating.

I see the beauty of your soft petals,

feel the electricity

of your desire.

I will sip your nourishing nectar,

and collect these offered grains

on the tender hairs of my body.

Some I will keep

to feed my hive,

the rest I will carry

across the flowering fields

spreading your love

and though you can’t move

beyond this ground

your song will continue-

I will fly for you.

I’ve been interested in bees and their symbiotic relationship with flowers for a few years now, but this week I actually took the time to read fairly deeply into the way this works. Most bees live in hives of some sort (but not all - there are many species of bee!) The hive’s worker bees (all female) collect for the entire colony - they drink and gather nectar for the adults in the hive and pollen for the feeding of new broods. While they are gathering, they move from flower to flower, releasing some of the pollen as they move, which fertilizes the other plants or flowers they encounter. Without them, many food plants would not be able to produce fruits or vegetables.

I am so filled with wonder at how interconnected everything is on this planet. Without bees, we would not survive. That is a crazy and humbling thought. No wonder John Muir once said, “When one tugs at a single thing in nature, he finds it attached to the rest of the world.

Here are some links for a deeper exploration, if you are interested:

Why do bees need pollen and nectar?

How do flowers and bees help each other?

The article that really blew me away was the one about bees and their ability to sense a flower’s electric field:

Bees Can Sense Electric Fields of Flowers

Thank you so much for being here. See you next week!

Savor

But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think. Lord Byron

Defining Savor

it is the walk of silence,

the fullness of air,

it is open-eyed -

it is waiting.

it is the leaf twirling

on the spider’s silken thread

in the dark green backdrop

of the wood

it is the the fog lifting

like a curtain,

revealing a deer

bowing its head

to taste a fallen branch

it is the spiraling frond of a fern

in the dewy green aftermath

of a thunderstorm -

it is in all of the senses

receiving,

it is in knowing

these are gifts

and remembering

to be grateful

mockingbird

At the beginning of 2023, a dear friend (Wendy Moore) chose a word for me to focus on this year: Savor. (Savor, Cambridge.org definition)

Halfway through the year, I wanted to come back around to how this word has enriched my life.

I have been walking through my days, looking for ways to savor my life. What I dwell on, it turns out, is what shapes my experience. One word, thoughtfully chosen, was a gift of light in a world where I could dwell so easily on darkness. I really can’t imagine receiving anything better, and I would love to pass it on.

To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives.

Henry David Thoreau

Garlic Scapes from the farm market

Thank you for being here! See you next Friday.