The Luck of Color or Light

Sometimes, not often, I see a dragonfly or beetle or what-have-you settled on something so perfectly suited to its color that I feel a bit like Robert Frost: 
         What brought the kindred spider to that height,
         Then steered the white moth thither in the night?
         What but design . . .? --
         If design govern in a thing so small.

Immature male Spangled Skimmer on blackberry bush.

Other times, more often, the light is so soft and suggestive that I feel when stooping or bending I might be stepping into a painting.

Unknown blossom at Lake Cheston

I count myself lucky -- because of color and because of light.