My pursuit of dragonflies continues (whether darners, dashers, clubtails, spiketails, emeralds, skimmers, chasers, cruisers or petaltails and good grief who knew there were so many types just in Canada?). It’s usually an opportunistic pursuit. I might happen upon them while wandering aimlessly with my camera in hand, which maybe happens more often than it should. I might seize upon them when an intended photo-shoot is a bust, which definitely happens more often than it should.
In this case the intended targets — red-winged blackbirds — had decamped from their usual summer habitat: a grassy verge around the small pond adjacent to our usual home-away-from-home.
Were they gone for a vacation or gone for the season? It hardly mattered, since I couldn’t wait upon the possibility of their return. It seems a shame. The light was so bright that I might have been able to get a sharp bird-in-flight shot, but there were no birds.
Given their behaviour and mine, it’s easiest to catch dragonflies from above. Easiest, but least attractively, perhaps. In my view, the spot where their wings attach/grow seems to offer a glimpse into a slightly unfinished interior. A glimpse I’d do without, given any option. That’s why I usually focus, literally and metaphorically, on the wings, while trying to avert my eyes from the icky bits.
Frailty veined in gold:
no compression strength, and yet
they power liftoff.