A dragonfly moves about in the wind, being pushed this way and that. Still, he carries on. He is a determined dragonfly with purpose and a destination. Right now that destination is on the end of my fishing pole. As for purpose, I have no clue what he is up to. Turns out it doesn't matter because before long the wind shuffles him off again.
As I wait for a fish to bite I wonder if my focus should ever have been on the dragonfly at all. Perhaps it should have been on the wind. "The wind is like the will of the majority..." a character in my novel, Misunderstood, once said. Of course, in the novel, the character was comparing the effects of the wind on metaphorical plants as opposed to the direction of a purpose-filled dragonfly. In either case, the wind is something that can affect all of us.
There was a time when I didn't care much for the wind, which was always shoving me this way and that. But as time has passed, I have learned to live with the wind, just like I have learned to live with the pollen it sometimes carries into my system making me sneeze and cough, disrupting what might have been an otherwise beautiful day.
I am older now, growing used to the wind and its nature. It can be difficult to live in this part of the country and not come to understand its nature, the paths of its Spring destruction and the bite of its northern Winter blast. However, sometimes it can slow to a breeze and be quite comforting, as it is on this Wednesday summer morning as I fish.
The dragonfly lands on a small stick and moves before I can get a picture. Perhaps I don't need a picture I tell myself, my mind already has a pretty good one.