Ironies Abound

According to the University of the South: Sewanee's Guide for Living in Community: Statement of Rights and Responsibilities, "Ecce Quam Bonum (EQB) is the University motto and describes our highest aspiration for community, lived out in expectations for our students. 'Behold how good and pleasant it is when brothers and sisters live in unity!' -- Psalm 133:1.' "

Note the operative words community and aspiration.

There's a reason why campus tours do not venture out to the on-campus lakes: garbage (i.e., liquor bottles, beer and soda cans, abandoned bicycles, take-out cartons, books and paper, used condoms and wrappers, underwear, . . .). 

Dragonflies don't care, even if I do.

Death by Drowning

An underwater larva emerges from the water and becomes an air-breathing winged dragonfly. Most live air-borne only long enough to mate and ensure the survival of the species. But some die early.

Of drowning.

When I first learned this from reading, I was taken aback. An insect that had long lived under water drowns. That was one thing.

Seeing them drowned or drowning or being knocked into water by another of the same species is a whole other thing entirely.

Five today. I pulled out four -- those within reach, but only one survived (but I suspected she wouldn't for much longer because one wing was crimped). Not this one. He looked perfect, but he wasn't.

Every time I think I can make a difference.

Only sometimes can I.

Return to the Honey-hole

In one lovely visit to my two favorite ponds, these friends flew: Blue Corporals, Carolina Saddlebags, Common Green Darners, Fragile Forktails, Citrine Forktails, and Southern Spreadwings. The sky, and the grasses, and the bare limbs, and the just visible beginnings of leaves, and . . . so much to love. I could spend the day there and come home happy, even if the ode photos are all terrible.

If you need me

I'll be at the office with a few colleagues.

You Can't Always Get What You Want (Different Ode Species)

Sometimes you get something better.

I noticed the pair when they arrived with serious fishing gear and got to work. She caught something immediately, and then my attention strayed: Blue Corporals, at least six, emerging or having emerged (including one fatally injured with permanently crimped wings, never to fly, just hanging on).

Eventually, I noticed the man had moved across the lake and the young woman had wandered back to the grassy area near the beach where I stood. I asked her, “Catch and release or eat?”

“Catch and release!”

“Good choice!”

In a few minutes, she came over to ask what I was photographing. Once I showed her the emerging Blue Corporals, she was as hooked as I. 

Of different generations and backgrounds, we found our common ground: love of nature. Like me, she watches something terrible in a nature video and wonders, “Why don’t you guys do something instead of just taking the video?” Like me, she rescues things in need. Someone said to her once, “It’s just nature.” Her answer is mine: “Yes, but I’m there; I can do something, so why wouldn’t I!”

“Yes,” I said. “If I have a wreck on the highway, I hope some living thing that sees me will rescue me.”

"Exactly."

From there we launched into stories of her life – what she had wanted to be (a mechanic, but her father had asked how will you lift heavy things? to which she said to me Uh . . . ask? with a half-smile and shrug), what she hated doing (hanging dry wall with her father), what she'd done that made her proud and taught her the big things in life (serve in the Air Force), what she has done for her sister (pay for everything for the sister and sister's baby for two years), and what she won’t do again (surrender herself so fully financially to someone else who could look at herself or himself). She also talked about sometimes wishing she were back in service for one reason: no big decisions. "Everything is decided for you and that's kind of comfortable."

She’s lucky. She has her health,  and smarts, and experience, and family. She said, “I keep asking if I can pay rent or buy the groceries or help out with the bills, but they always say no.”

“Good,” I said. “They know you need the time now to decide what comes next.”

“Yes,” she said. “And that’s the scary part.”

After I told her about Lake Dimmick and showed her the map, we parted, but not before we introduced ourselves.

“I really enjoyed talking to you, A_______.”

“Same here, Robley.” she said. “I’m really glad I walked over here.”

I am too.

One Hirsute Ode

My brother teneral Blue Corporal is an hairy bug.

with apologies to and great affection for Alan Bennett and Beyond the Fringe

When the air flutters

over and around a pond, it's odonate season in full.

In about an hour an half, I saw Blue Corporals, Common Baskettails, one Comet Darner, Green Darners, one Springtime Darner, Carolina Saddlebags, Black Saddlebags, Fragile Forktails, Lancet Clubtails, and one Common Whitetail.

I watched emerging, mating, patrolling, hawking, guarding, sparring, basking, . . . the whole shebang.

Now I have to learn how to use the camera more seriously.

Note to self: do not ever drop the lens cap in the muddy water again.

Oh, the Irony

More than two hours at the lake, almost 500 pictures including a number of 4K burst photos. 

Joy . . . and frustration. 

Learning a new camera is such hard work. 

Blue Corporal emerging

Took the best picture with the old one, of course.

Gus waits patiently for his family to walk around the lake.

 Back to the 403-page user's manual. 

(Now I need a rainy day, dadgummit!)

Just Like That

In little more than 35 minutes, stolen between house cleaning and the vet's visit, I watched six Blue Corporals and one Fragile Forktail emerge from Lake Cheston.

Blue Corporal teneral

Lake Cheston

Fragile Forktail, right after emergence

I am struck every spring that it's like waiting for the first pop of corn in the pot.

Only better because the delicious servings just keep coming and coming and coming.

What I Learned Today

1. I can do my own taxes correctly without buying a program or paying a CPA.

2. Looking at one thing and standing still to watch it, then moving on because the wind has shifted, isn't so bad  because something else will come into view: like a newly emerged Blue Corporal or an ovipositing Green Darner.

3. Although awkward, carrying two cameras in odonate season is the only way to go (at least until I finally have all the right lenses).

4. Natural beings doing their natural thing is balm, always.

Panasonic Lumix GH3: Day 7

or, Why I Am Still Undecided though Leaning More Toward Than Away

Pros/Joys in
1/ discovery
2/ the Borrowers' perspective
3/ the challenge
4/ technology
5/ potential for growth in my work

Cons/Irritations due to
1/ awful EVF
2/ squirrely LCD, though I think I may have solved it today by learning a trick

Gratitude to
1/ Nick Coury of Dury's Camera in Nashville who showed me the GH4 and who encouraged me to rent before buying. I cannot thank him enough for his kindness, professionalism, careful listening, and investment in my needs and desires. As a friend wrote me last night, "Hoping your photosalesman can stay available as a trusted advisor. Being emotionally invested in your work is definitely not out of the question for people you ask to help you." Yes, me too.

Panasonic GH3: Day 2

Pros
1/ up close and personal portraits of dragonflies
2/ the pleasure of learning something new
3/ the pleasure of meeting another person who uses the camera
4/ manageability in heat and trekking

Cons
1/ missing the sandpipers right in front of me because of the macro
2/ golden hue (must color-correct)
3/ viewfinder (the smearing is the result of the coating having worn out, and as it turns out this is a frequent complaint among those who have purchased the camera)

This last con may well be the deal breaker.

Survival of the Fittest

This morning's Common Baskettails and Blue Corporals are the lucky ones, despite the rain and wind, making their emergence tricky. 
They spent the winter underwater and successfully managed to avoid being eaten. If only their airy introduction were more welcoming.

Addendum: This crippled Baskettail cannot fly.

It's Not Always about the Bugs

even though they're out (Common Baskettail and Blue Corporal emerging today).

Sometimes it's about a new view of the familiar or known.

Like the area around Up-the-Down on the campus. New curving beds of evergreens and shrubs and beautiful flowers make the perfect complement to the Quad.

Or like my former student, who admits in front of her Sewanee undergrad children that English was not her strong suit when I taught her, but then tells us she is the person that colleagues at Entergy go to for proofreading or composing and that she reads my blog every day. (I hope she reads this post.)

This matters more than all the bugs and flowers: this is what lasts.

Day 40: Another Day in My Life (Death on the Doorstep)

Amour still in mind days later, daddy-long-legs striding a yellow jacket, 

then this:

a Blue Corporal, one of the year's last, webbed, struggling to fly, signaling the spider who fought to win a terrifying battle.

And Iraq, imploding.

Thus ends Julie's challenge: 40 days of 40 words.

Steep Learning Curve

Learning to use a friend's old Nikon Coolpix makes my head hurt.

The Blue Corporals and Common Baskettails didn't mind, however.

Heck, they didn't even mind the snow and sub-freezing temps.

They have way more gumption than I.

R.I.P. Canon G12.

An Assist

Yesterday, I spoke with one of the Buildings and Grounds crew mowing round the lake. I pleaded that they not weed-eat the grasses at water's edge and in the water. I was too late for the beach, but the fellow I spoke with agreed and instructed his colleague to cut the top of the dam only.

This morning, I saw the result: lots of Springtime Darners and Blue Corporals were emerging or had just emerged. I stopped counting the exuviae when I found more than 10 without even looking hard.

Across the lake, round the bend from the trestle bridge, I found one Corporal strung in spider silk. As I had last year, I assumed this one was dead and photographed it. Then, on a whim, I reached into the web and pulled the dragonfly out. I was dumbfounded when it moved in my hand after a moment and then struggled to flutter its wings. The front wings moved with ease, but spider silk had practically glued the back wings together.

Balancing dragonfly and camera, I managed to pick up a thin stick and with three careful efforts, I removed the silk. The Corporal climbed up onto my thumb where it sat for a minute or two, warming, grooming, and then -- suddenly -- it took off.

And so the rescues begin!