Got My Eye on You

The Southern Sprite's electric aqua eyes remind me of what lasts.

 

Or the Mediterranean Blue of a Southern Sprite's Eyes

Colors passing through us

by Marge Piercy

Purple as tulips in May, mauve

into lush velvet, purple

as the stain blackberries leave

on the lips, on the hands,

the purple of ripe grapes

sunlit and warm as flesh.

Every day I will give you a color,

like a new flower in a bud vase

on your desk. Every day

I will paint you, as women

color each other with henna

on hands and on feet.

Red as henna, as cinnamon,

as coals after the fire is banked,

the cardinal in the feeder,

the roses tumbling on the arbor

their weight bending the wood

the red of the syrup I make from petals.

Orange as the perfumed fruit

hanging their globes on the glossy tree,

orange as pumpkins in the field,

orange as butterflyweed and the monarchs

who come to eat it, orange as my

cat running lithe through the high grass.

Yellow as a goat’s wise and wicked eyes,

yellow as a hill of daffodils,

yellow as dandelions by the highway,

yellow as butter and egg yolks,

yellow as a school bus stopping you,

yellow as a slicker in a downpour.

Here is my bouquet, here is a sing

song of all the things you make

me think of, here is oblique

praise for the height and depth

of you and the width too.

Here is my box of new crayons at your feet.

Green as mint jelly, green

as a frog on a lily pad twanging,

the green of cos lettuce upright

about to bolt into opulent towers,

green as Grand Chartreuse in a clear

glass, green as wine bottles.

Blue as cornflowers, delphiniums,

bachelors’ buttons. Blue as Roquefort,

blue as Saga. Blue as still water.

Blue as the eyes of a Siamese cat.

Blue as shadows on new snow, as a spring

azure sipping from a puddle on the blacktop.

Cobalt as the midnight sky

when day has gone without a trace

and we lie in each other’s arms

eyes shut and fingers open

and all the colors of the world

pass through our bodies like strings of fire.

Five Good Things about My Nature Walk with My Young Friend Jonathan

1.
A giant exuvia (like a shed skin) of some dragonfly, a darner perhaps. Held to the light, the shell's translucence shimmers like gold-leaf over opal.

2. 
A patient Carolina Saddlebags, old and torn, let us snap, snap, snap, while he perched, darted off, circled, and perched again. When it was Jonathan's turn to approach, he showed me a new trick: distract the Odonate by shaking one hand held out to the side. Then, he said, you can get a good picture. He approached, he shook, and the dragonfly flew off.

I'm going to try that trick anyway.

3.
In the woods, he scooped up and pulled several mushrooms, one of which bled milk and oxydized pink: it's a Milky Mushroom, and it's beautiful.

4.

At the pond, I pointed out a Southern Sprite, pleased that I could introduce Jonathan to a new species.

5.
Jonathan's company. It's a good thing.

In Just Ten Days

four new Odonate species seen, photographed, and verified by experts. That makes 34 distinct dragonfly species and 20 distinct damselfly species.

Arrowhead Spiketail at Lake Cheston

Painted Skimmer at Lake O'Donnell

Southern Sprite at Lake Dimmick

Amber-winged Spreadwing at Lake Dimmick

Day 31: Another Day That Changed My Life

Gray Lake Dimmick offered up jewels today: a male Eastern Pondhawk perched on red against green, mating Double-ringed Pennants, and Southern Sprites, teeny-tiny damsels just within reach of a telephoto.

Obsessive compulsion?

Please sir, I want some more.