It was really strange, and kind of sad. In fact I'm still thinking about it days later.
We recently vacationed at
Peninsula Lake, in the Muskoka region of Ontario. The vacation was not sad at all, it was relaxing and beautiful. I'll post more nature pictures from there in the coming days.
But the experience we had with this dragonfly was just bizarre. My daughter and niece found this kind-of-busted dragonfly on the dock, and were able to pick him up easily. So I decided to shoot him for this site. He would try to fly now and then but was unable to coordinate his wings well enough to even get of the ground. his head lolled about like a senior with Parkinsons disease. He would sit still with us touching and moving him to a better position. He never cleaned the sand off his eyes, as you can see above.
I think this little guy must have been snatched by a bird earlier in the day or within the last several days, and that perhaps damaged his neck/spine. Something had happened to him, and he'd lived life through to adulthood, so it must have been a recent trauma. But now, he was powerless to fly, defend, and I'm sure, hunt. So we were shooting his portrait in perhaps his last evening of life.
Perhaps I'm overthinking it... I don't expect dragonflies have feelings or that this one can recognize the futility of his situation. I don't even know if he could feel pain. And there's no dragonfly hospital to accept this victim. I don't know why, but the helplessness of this dragonfly's situation has stuck with me, and I feel sad because my own projected feelings for him are those of cold, fear, and loneliness.
So, enjoy these closeups of our dragonfly friend. His eyes are ridiculous/amazing, actually. So many hexagons. And his little whiskery face almost looks like that of a small dog or cat. Below, you can see his stained-glass wings, their cellophane-like layers creating a slight rainbow effect.
