Her reward for standing still: communion with a winged, wild, beauty.
She’d heard of the magic of dragonflies. That they could instantly transport you to another place. A place of peace. Of calm. Of wonder. And so she stopped when the dragonfly flew near. So close she heard the hum of its wings beating the air. She stopped. To listen. To watch. To wonder.
Notes from a recent walk: Bees dancing at my feet. Dragonfly swooping by my elbow. Pug puppy bouncing at the end of its leash. And this feather, which gave me chase: