dragonfly chronicles 3 - Gnats and Oil Spills

I retract my comments from a previous post concerning the gnats and their complete uselessness (I believe I called them a Satanic scouge). The other day, I saw a small dragonfly on my screen, so I put my finger out up under it's legs and got it to perch there. I noticed something hanging from it's mouth about as big as it's head. It was a black bug or gnat or some other kind small flying insect. The dragonfly chewed away at it's prey leaving its small legs on my finger as it ate. I thought for sure it would eat maybe half of the bug and then be done, but alas, it ate the entire thing and then flew away.

This got me thinking about my times by the creek. Often I see one the dragonflies swoop down and eat some small white floating particle, but until now I've assumed it was a piece of falling pollen or something else from the tree above. Now I believe these white floaters to be gnats. This has made me reconsider necessity of gnats. They are in fact the bottom wrung of the food chain and are incredibly annoying, but they serve the purpose of food for the dragonfly and probably many other creatures just above them in the circle of life. It reminds me that ecosystems are delicate and even the smallest of insects which may seem to us useless are probably here for a reason perhaps playing important role in the grandscope of environmental health.

Writing this post makes me ponder the current and/or potential disaster still effusing from the Horizon in the Gulf. So many ecosystems have or will be affected by this crisis, and the reduction or loss of even the smallest of species could have devastating effects.

dragonfly chronicles part 2

So, I was wrong about the dragonflies in my last dragonfly post. As I watched them about a week ago I realized that it was in fact the the male who vigorously fluttered his wings and attached his apendage to the female, and the female who lifted hers to the male's thorax to begin the mating process. Another revelation: the females have the white dot on their black wings while the males do not. After I made this discovery, I watched as a male vigorously defended his mate while she laid her eggs. It seems a number of males tried to approach her as she was in the water, but his sheer fury and tenacity sent them flying in other directions everytime. I think his protectiveness may have drawn him another female who perched above him for a while. He eventually followed her a distance away and mated with her too. She flew a couple feet from his first mate to do her egg laying and for a while he defended that ground as well. But alas it was too much of a stretch and the male dragonflies were too plenty, so he settled for defending only his first love. As a result, his mistress didn't get to spend near as much time in water laying and arranging her eggs.

dragonfly dreamworld

If you've frequented my blog at all, you'll know that I've been frequenting a spot about a mile from my house. It's where I go to pray, meditate or otherwise just enjoy the natural beauty of Florida. The drgonfly in the picture here is one of the natural species of these particular woods. You see them everywhere. But a few weeks ago, I saw a few of them in the little area where I often spend time. As I looked around I noticed that two of them were on a leaf in front of me mating. The rather remarkable thing about their mating practice is the fact that their bodies make the shape of a heart when they're together. I was fascinated and watched as immediately after they were done, the female (I presume), laid her eggs at the edge of the creek just out reach of the current. She used her apendage to lay them and then move them as she saw fit. The male stayed on a leaf directly above her. At one point he chased off an incoming dragonfly that came close to the female as she messed with her eggs. It was quite something to witness, I must say.

About a week later I went back to the same spot and found that there were about a dozen of these same species of dragonflies. I brought a camera that time and got the photo above. A few days ago I went again (unfortunately without a camera). This time there were a good 20 of them, and I sat observing them for about 45 minutes. My time waiting and observing paid off greatly. I was able to watch 3 different mating sessions from start to finish, and three different egg layings. The dragonflies seemed to be in somewhat of a mating frenzy and didn't mind my presnece at all. When I arrived I found two of them already in the act of mating as I had seem before. But soon others also began. I managed to figure out when they were about to engage by observing the three sessions that played in a similar fashion. The female (I believe) flaps her wings frantically, almost like a hummingbird until she's right in front of the male she chooses. She seems to glimmer and shine as she hovers right in front of him for a few seconds. Then she attaches her appendage to his neck and he curls his around to her thorax area, thus making the heart shape togehter. They mate for about a minute and then the female heads for the water to lay the eggs.

Amazing as this expereince was, it wasn't over with my observation. As I started to get up to leave, I placed my hand on a rock and a different species of dragonfly landed on me. It stayed for about twenty minutes just sitting there, or when it left, it did so for only a couple seconds and then came back. It was quite a remarkable experience - numinous even.

My Totem

There's a common feature in many indigenous religions called totemism. Totemism has to do with an individual or a tribe claiming some sort of solidarity with a particular species of animal. That animal then, in a sense, becomes their mascott. Hunting it is taboo, and the sight of it is a sacred experience. Perhaps you've heard of the totem pole? It's more than a tall tiki carving with depictions of fun furry critters. This is a monument to the animal(s) held sacred to the tribe.

I believe that a certain form of totemism is alive and well among us today. But in modern, western expression it may manifest itself differently. It might be those times when you get a rare peek of the sublimity of nature that moves you so deeply that you at least identify it as a reminder of the divine or the supernatural. For my wife, it's the rays that come through the clouds known as "the fingers of God". It could also be those moments where it seems divinity whispers through nature seredipitous secrets into your ear. Someone in my extended family died about a year ago, and she was very fond of birds (particuarly cardinals). Shortly after the funeral, her daughter saw a cardinal sitting and singing on the ledge of her kitchen window.

I must admit that I believe in these modern forms of totemism; because I believe that heaven and earth are related concentrically. And if the earth is subsumed within the circle of heaven then there must be windows to divnity all around us. If we are enveloped by Elysium, then we shouldn't be surprised by the occasional glimpse of ambrosial artistry emanating its enchantment in the trees, the clouds, the creek or the birds. My belief in today's totemism stems in part from my own experience, because I think I have a totem myself - the Sandhill Crane. I don't know exactly why, but I love to see and hear them. They bring to my mind the creator. Maybe it's their prehistoric, regal beauty that has me ruminating at the intersection of divinity and creation. Or maybe it's their trumpet-like call issuing from some deep preserved place in their primeval past that makes me think of a younger time, a time closer to our creation, closer to the breath that blew life into our dark, dead world. Whatever it is, I'm intrigued and inspired everytime I witness their avian effulgence.

meditation and mosquitoes (and other distractions)

so i was at my spot by the creek trying to clear my mind to meditate and pray, but apparently the mosquitos are back in force. add to the season a body of water and shade, and you have an airforce of unrelenting bloodthirsty, malevolent, miniature demons. i stayed for a while swatting them when i could, but that wasn't conducive for the state of mind i was trying to procure. inspired by buddha's ascetic time, when he would meditate on thorns, or allow children to light a fire under him, i tried just sitting motionless as the little bastards took their fill of my bodily fluids. but alas, i couldn't take it, and i killed a good half dozen more when i opened my eyes. on top of all of this distraction, the little poop colored chiuaua i mentioned a couple blogs ago came running down from the trail with his owner in tow. now mind you, this spot is not visible from the trail, so the likelyhood of this encounter was pretty slim. but here he is again, running around in the water in front of me, interrupting my time. i commented to the owner, "so we meet again." i think it may have come off a bit like james bond when he encouters his archrival for the second time in the movie after barely escaping death during their first meeting. the kid (teenager), after all, was a bit defensive. "he's gotta have his water." the boy says. i watched them until they left, then tried again. all during this time there had been a woodpecker hammering away at a nearby tree. after a few more minutes of distraction, i decided to get up and leave.

all in all though, it was actually a very good reminder that the purpose for prayer and meditation is not to escape the world, but rather to come out engaging it more fully.

between the barks

i was at my spot again yesterday off the trail by the creek. after half an hour there, i walked back to the trail and found a dirt path heading in a different direction, so i took it. it led me out to a familiar scene, part of an abandoned golf course where i often run. i was disoriented at first because i wasn't expecting to be there, and then i saw a dog -- a little poop colored chiuaua. it approached me somewhat aggressively, but i wasn't startled... after all, it was only a couple times bigger than our rat. the owner came walking up, and then the dog decided to bark. i started involunarily, which embarrassed me a bit especially when the owner said (with a sardonic grin, i think), "don't worry his bark is bigger than his bite." my thought was, put the little sh*t on a leash or put it out of my misery.

i continued walking. it was a beautiful day; as crisp and sweet as any i've experienced recently. i approached a small bridge that ran over the creek, and noticed red blossoms from the trees above carpeting the ground as if a wedding procession with an overzealous flower girl had just passed. as i approached the end of the course, i heard barking again and a couple of unleashed dogs approached me aggressively. two sh*t hued hounds (dachsunds i believe) ran right up to my ankles, yapping like cocky juveniles might to a homeless man they pass on the street. i stepped back, because even though they couldn't cause serious damage, they were all too close for comfort, and i didn't particularly need a pair of dog slippers after i put my feet up their asses ( but i hadn't counted the idea out either). the owner eventually came out of the backyard apologizing profusely. i accepted graciously and moved on.

it seems to me that there are often annoying dogs nipping at your ankles, barking at you simply because you exist. perhaps the best policy is just to keep walking and enjoy the intervals (however short they may be) between the barks.

on the wagon and in the flow

i think i'm back on the wagon again. so far, i ran twice this week. not very far nor very fast, but nonetheless, i was pounding the pavement, which is what really matters. it couldn't have been a nicer day for it. the air was crisp with a slight chill in the breeze, and nary a cloud wandered wanton on the blue canopy above. i ran out to the tree covered trails where the shade abounds and a creek cuts smoothly through, sidewinding by with such languor that it lured me in with effortless ease. i stepped off the trail and sat by the flowing water for quite a while. it's a piece (albeit a very small piece) of old florida out there -before the bulldozers and development; prior to the boom, the bubble and the pop; shaded from the shady commissioners, mayors, realtors and developers who make deals to increase construction and destroy another habitat, another slice of sanity in the midst of this crazy world. but the water flows nonetheless. forest debris, sand, and pebbles are all carried along by the small currents that show up at times as liquid lines, shadows from the sun revealing the delicate dance of an ineffable, inexorable essence...

i ran back home and resolved to continue running.