We got home from school and Mr. B's football game and the sun still shone low on the horizon. Almost eighty degrees, low humidity, no wind. I stood for a moment to appreciate the perfection of the weather and the light glowing across the lawn, through the trees, when a steady, spiraling sort of movement caught my eye.
At least 50 dragonflies swooped and swerved, feasting on some new hatching of insect. Like sun dust, the air was full of tiny specks. If I focused on one, floating midair for a few seconds, I was rewarded by the sight of a dragonfly snatching it into its mouth.
The bug buffet hovered softly, like gentle snow, illuminated by the sun's last rays of the day. The dragonflies zipped in every direction, turning on a dime to snap at the bugs. I lay on my back to enjoy this amazing display and was rewarded by the scene drawing close enough that I could hear the buzz of the dragonfly wings beating and count each segment of their bodies as they passed over me, a mere foot or two from my face.
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