Two-for-One

I've seen it before.

I've never been lucky enough to snap it.

Today I was.

Holy Odonates, Batman!

Three in one quick morning: Lake Dimmick never disappoints.

My first-ever good snaps of Lancet Clubtails mating.

My first-of-the-season Violet Dancer.

My first ever decent photographs of a Painted Skimmer (seen for the first time, only briefly, last year at Lake O'Donnell).

And now to continue tallying (May 3):

Common Green Darner
Fragile Forktail
then Common Baskettail
Springtime Darner
next Blue Corporal
Carolina Saddlebags
Lancet Clubtail
followed by Common Whitetail
Azure Bluet

Southern Spreadwing

Comet Darner

Violet Dancer

Painted Skimmer

Day 10 of 40: Another Day That Changed My Life

Opening J's garden gate, I spotted the telltale flight, stooped, shot a Violet Dancer eating lunch. Later pointing to a Turquoise Bluet, I asked, "See it?" "Search image," J said, "you've got it," naming what I do: see bugs everywhere.

Generosity

1.
I walked three strides from the parking lot gate toward the dam. Suddenly, the air shimmered with newly emerged Lancet Clubtails. Another few feet, and more flew toward the treeline and protection. Despite rain and clouds and more rain on the way, despite a temperature in the 60s, these hardy Odonates had decided, en masse apparently, to make their debut.

Such is the generosity of nature.

2.
A friend wondered if I might like to try out her Nikon DSLR. She said, "I don't really need it any longer. I use my iPhone for everything and you take the pictures of my new knitting patterns anyway. Come over if you'd like to try it out."

I went over, but thought I couldn't use the camera. "How do you adjust the viewfinder?" I asked. "I can't focus on anything."

"I don't think you can. I never tried."

"Ah, then it probably won't work for me."

But she convinced me to try it out, and so I did.

I shot the cats successfully.

I leaned into the irises.

I shot at least one clubtail fairly well, though not in complete focus.

I struggled to capture a Violet Dancer, the first I've seen this year, but with a true macro lens, I'm sure I could do it.

Most importantly, I learned in five minutes how to adjust the diopter.

She called again after I sent a couple of snaps in an email. "I've found all the lenses. Come on over!"

"I'll bring my checkbook," I said.

Such is the generosity of friends.

Traffic Jam

Where water pours into Lake Cheston from the woods, I stood on the small wooden bridge.  The Common Green Darner jetted up and down and around the shore, weaving in and out of the cattails, now speeding faster than I could watch, then stopping in mid-air like a basketball pro on the court.  The little red Calico Pennant balanced on the tip of a grass spear, idle.  The Banded Pennants snapped to and mated; the Eastern Amberwings hovered over the water, patrolling their tiny kingdoms with calm aplomb.  Slaty Skimmers flew one above the other, turning and turning till one sped off and the other followed.  Widow Skimmers spun into the sky like runaway pinwheels.  Clinging to the lower stems and grasses, a single Bluet hung out and paired Swamp Spreadwings and Violet Dancers completed their couplings.  Finally, into the mix came the yoked Black Saddlebags flying clumsily as if tipsy, he dipping and she refusing to deposit her eggs, others in hot pursuit.



At noon, here, imagine this: rush-hour traffic in a big city, to the sound of fish-slapping water, flicking wings, and birdsong.  Always, let there be birdsong.