I believe these are Japanese Beetles. Every year I see a handful of them, but only a handful. They hang around for a month or two, mating in the roses and stripping a few leaves off the crepe myrtle. Then they disappear.
Fortunately, they have not become a major problem in our yard. The worst part of having them around, for me, is the worry. I watch and wait, dreading the possibilities. Wondering if this will be the summer that our modest population of beetles spawns a hungry swarm…
What should I call my fascination with dragonflies? What if I never get tired of looking for them, never get tired of taking their pictures and learning their names? Years from now, stiff in the knees with cloudy eyes and foggy mind, will I continue to chase every glittering flash of wing?
What will it mean, if I do get tired of them?
This pondhawk moved into the corner iris bed today, defending its claim against all intruders. It even challenged the lawnmower, darting and swooping around the noisy engine.
The irises’ blue dashers retreated into other beds, seemingly content with the new order of things.
As I wandered the yard with my camera, a cool breeze fell out of these clouds. A short time later, the breeze whipped into indecisive gusts, some lashing north to south, others tumbling west to east.
I lingered as long as I dared, but retreated when lightning began to flicker from cloud to cloud, rolling thunder into the scene.
I wonder where dragonflies go, during such weather? Maybe they stay on their perches, letting the rain wash their wings…
Publication Note: My poem After the Birthday is posted on the poemblog at vox poetica, which is currently running Contributor Series 11: On Birthdays.
Rae Spencer 