June 26, 2013
There it was on Jessica’s shirt collar, and then it started slowly walking up her hair. It was a new-born meadowhawk dragonfly that had just hatched into an adult. We felt a very special connection between the three of us and the dragonfly. Janine got within 2 feet of it and saw the beautiful patterning of the wing in the morning light. Then the meadowhawk lifted up and circled over our heads. We stood there watching the new born’s wobbly flight. From behind us came a fast flying tree swallow, who effortlessly grabbed and consumed the young dragonfly. Just one minute before, the dragonfly had been resting safely in Jessica’s hair, and now it was no more. I felt sad that the little guy was eaten, and did not have a chance to finish its life cycle. I felt angry at the swallow for eating the dragonfly, even though it was just trying to sustain itself or its young in the nest. But mostly I felt deeply touched to be a witness to this natural event. Death and life connected; predator and prey. It was an excellent teaching, and allowed me to see into a window that I did not know was there. There was no funeral to honor the little dragonfly. One second it was fluttering around and the next it was in the tree swallow’s mouth. Nature is a powerful force; life and death connected, always moving and changing.
Janine Pung was also touched by the experience and wrote the following poem about the morning hike.
Where Does Beauty Hide?
in the magical meadow
in the ethereal foliage
in the splashes of color amid the green.
Where does beauty hide?
in the cricket’s chorus
in the bird’s watery sound
in the soulful silence around every corner of the trail
Where does beauty hide?
in the fragile dragonfly nymph
in the tree swallow’s swoop
in the opportunity to witness the cycle of life
Where does beauty hide?
in the bouquet of a single flower
in the grace of a dragonfly grove
in the tattered, spotted feather of an owl
Where does beauty hide?
in the dynamic, yet peaceful energy of this wetland
An ode to Life. Thanks so much for sharing your thoughts with me, Larry. May you find more of those hidden windows.