24 September 2020 (darner)

weaving the air

over the pond

green darner

12 September 2020 (Wild Graces)

Yesterday’s post is a day late, because I was attending the (outdoor) haiku gathering at Wild Graces in NH.

linked dragonflies

fly among haiku poets

shifting clouds

14 June 2020 (field)

field grasses

a green-eyed dragonfly

pauses on a stem

12 June 2020 (sundragon)

parting clouds

a sundragon perches

in the tall grasses

31 August 2019 (dragonfly)

fairy house trail

watching from the ferns

red meadowhawk

4 March 2019 (dragonfly)

morning sun

on the alligator’s back

blue dragonfly

July 25: Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens

I spent today leading a haiku workshop at the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens. We spent much of the afternoon out in the gardens being inspired to write haiku by the landscape and what's living in it. Here are some of mine that arose from today's activities, including some directed exercises:

slow down, ants
you're making me
anxious

stone labyrinth
those ants
aren't staying on the path

water lilies
even the dragonflies
seem entranced

bowing low
to smell the roses
haiku nose

July 5: Birthday

twelfth birthday
damselflies shifting
from one reed to another

July 12: Under the tent

Observed while seated under a huge tent with 600 people for an outdoor event at Colby College last night...

Bumping against the windows
of the party tent--
one big dragonfly.

June 30: The Poetry of Dragonflies

I've been told by a very reliable source that this handsome fellow is a male Celithemis elisa, or Calico Pennant. I came upon him today while tromping around the milkweed patch at my office trying to photograph butterflies. I saw my first monarchs, a red admiral, and a few things I couldn't identify, but this guy was the only thing that would hold still for my camera. The Calico Pennant first emerges in late May to early June and is apparently very common throughout the summer here along the Megunticook River. It's also easily recognizable, as its all-over red appearance is noticeable at a distance. Right now several of them proudly wave their red selves above the overgrown lawn. 

I know next to nothing about dragonflies, but several birder friends are also avid odophiles. (These same friends are also very good at identifying butterflies--I guess once you start paying attention to one set of flying things, you just start noticing the others.) I like to watch dragonflies flit and dart through the air, wings shimmering, iridescent bodies glistening like jewels. But my real interest in them is not as a naturalist or observer, but as a poet. Check out these common names of some dragonflies found in Maine: Ebony Jewelwing, Violet Dancer, Lilypad Forktail, Sedge Sprite, Sweetflag Spreadwing, Spatterdock Darner, Unicorn Clubtail, Riffle Snaketail, Stygian Shadowdragon, Ringed Boghaunter, Seaside Dragonlet, Cherry-faced Meadowhawk, and Black Saddlebags. They sound like creatures from a fantasy novel! Naming really doesn't get any better than this unless you're an elf or fairy.

Jewelwing, sedge sprite--

dragonfly or elf, your wild

Maine magic shimmers.