To
my right, a brittle and monstrous-looking dragonfly exoskeleton clings to an
alder sapling at water’s edge. Like an outgrown pair of overalls, a nymph left it
behind weeks ago after climbing from the watery depths and emerging from its
skin shell. We often see these lovely creatures fresh out of the lake, having
climbed bush, tree trunk, even cabin walls, clinging to their outgrown suit for
several hours while they unravel their wings, pump blood into their veins, and
finally skitter off to do their barnstorming thing.
I’ve
delighted this summer season in the helicopter antics of a particularly large
adult that has graced the dock, vigilantly doing its part to relieve me from mosquito
peskery. It seems to strike an occasional photogenic pose on the weathered wood
while it surveys its hunting grounds, even lighting on me from time to time for
a loftier view of its riparian domain. One time it landed on my forearm barely
ten inches from my face, cocked its head several times, and stared at me with
seeming inquisitiveness through its huge iridescent eyes. Is this the same one
that left its used clothing hanging on its alder hook?
Yet
now as I watch, a female does her little darner dance low over the water. She will
die soon. But now she flits irregularly, dropping her abdomen’s backside
quickly to the surface about once every second or two, depositing a fertilized
egg with each dip, a seed that will sink to the bottom and, if it survives the weather
and hungry fish, will ready itself for its own debut late next spring,
perchance climbing this same alder.
The
cycle.
Whether
all the same insect or not, I see before my very eyes a generation rising and
passing, a life cycle in full, miniature to my own. What’s the difference in
the grand scheme of things between a summer season and the season of a human
lifetime? What’s to say that the passing of time in God’s perspective, before
Whose eyes a day is as a thousand years and a thousand years as a day, is any
different? This tiny one’s life cycle has its purpose and I mine. Its intention
has played itself forward before my eyes, as mine does before God’s. In their
proper time, both its biography and my own will be complete.
For the eyes of the LORD
move to and fro throughout the earth that He may strongly support those whose
heart is completely His. (2 Chronicles 16:9)
As for mortals, their
days are like grass; they flourish like a flower of the field; for the wind
passes over it, and it is gone, and its place knows it no more. But the
steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear
him, and his righteousness to children's children, to those who keep his
covenant and remember to do his commandments. (Psalm 103:15-18)
~~ RGM, August 11 2017
P.S. I wrote once before on dragonflies, but from a bit more poetic of a perspective. Hit this link to check it out.
I enjoyed reading this. It captured a common moment that we all too often let sneak past us and put into perspective our our "moment" here.
ReplyDeleteYes, Brian. I guess we should always stay alert for those moments. Thinking of you and Erin often...
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