A northern Idaho writer contemplates birds, imagination and country-living from the peaty shore of a bog pond.
Friday, August 23, 2013
Dragonflies of the High Skies
Buzzing across the clouds with dual wings, a set of mechanical dragonflies pass over Elmira Pond. My husband will be disappointed to learn that I can't tell if they have radial engines or not. If her were here, standing outside in the uncharacteristic mugginess that hazes the sky with false clouds, he'd rattle off exactly what type of engines and planes these are.
Maybe in all the dryness--yes, I realize that I just told you it is muggy--I'm seeing mirages. My brow may be sweating, but my garden is thirsty. Dirt is powder by now and one muggy afternoon isn't going to perk up my pumpkin plant. So I water and watch twin planes putter off into the distance like dragonflies headed to water.
Silence. No other birds in the sky. Late August. Where have all the osprey gone? Where is my Blue Heron?
So I watch and water until dragonflies come again.