Jun 22 2009

A moment of Zen

Category: MusingsBill Mason @ 9:02 am

(With apologies, I guess, to Jon Stewart.)

I have never been a fan of dragonflies.

When I was a kid, we would take vacations down South a lot. So it was in South Carolina (I think) that on one such trip, we visited a plantation. All I remember of the plantation is that the skies were filled with dragonflies. Since I was already scared of flying insects (particularly if they were armed, like bees or wasps), I was not thrilled by the dragonfly population, to say the least.

But you evolve without even knowing that you’re doing it. Yesterday, I was keeping Miriam company while she worked in the front yard.

(Yes, that probably creates an image of me as a lazy sloth. In my defense, I note:)

  • That day was Father’s Day.
  • I have no green thumb. I’m closer to all thumbs.
  • My allergies would probably kill me if I lingered wrist-deep working in a garden for any length of time.

(To continue:)

I noted aloud that a dragonfly was flying patterns over us and the garden. Shortly thereafter it was joined by another, and then another. Circling and diving and looping as fast as they do made it hard to count them, but I think there were six altogether at the peak. As that was going on though, there was a remarkable convergence.

  • The wind was strong enough to combine with the various surrounding trees to make a lovely whisper of a sound as the branches rustled, but not so strong as to be unpleasant.
  • Since we live on a dead-end street there’s never much traffic, but even the traffic on the main connecting road was basically non-existent.
  • The street itself was quiet. For some reason, even though it was a good-weather day, no one was mowing the lawn, revving up a motorcycle (some of our neighbors love their toys), or doing anything else particularly disturbing.

So there was a lovely moment where nature’s silence was both extremely loud, and extremely pleasant.

Of course, then a flock of crows up in the trees starting talking (arguing?) amongst themselves, as loudly as crows do. It wasn’t quiet anymore, but it was still nature at work.

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