A Question of Identity

A silent flicker of light. A whiz. A flutter and glint of copper. The (brand) new dragonfly alights in filtered forest light on a slingshot-shaped branch.

Study begins.

Puzzled at first, I soon realize I'm looking at a male Slaty Skimmer, newly emerged, still wearing the same colors as the female. Look to the terminal appendages, then, for certain ID. Penis pocket, check Claspers, check. Male.

And so it goes, round the lake, when, on the beach, I see folks gathered, listen to the calling of a parent to a young child, "Come closer to the shore!" But as usual, I pay them no mind and walk purposefully on, looking for Odonates.

A gentleman seated on the metal bridge rail asks, "What are you looking at?" I give him the long answer, which he interrupts with interest. We chat. Finally, before leaving, I introduce myself, asking, "Are you Insert Name?" He says yes, and adds, "I know who you are. You're Robley Hood and you work for Gay!" That's true. 

But I hope the next time he sees me, he also thinks, That's Robley. She's the dragonfly photographer.

He will have learned to see me in a bit more detail.