Dragonfly

I spent yesterday, the summer solstice, in my backyard. I didn't remember it was the longest day of the year until my mother told me.  She'd taken the bus over to my house, for a swim, and found me outside, hanging clothes on the line.

She sat down in the chair next to a big pot in which I'd planted nasturtiums and a couple Black Eyed Susan vines to climb up the trellis.  Her hearing aide soon picked up an unusual buzzing sound.

I'd rescued a dragonfly from drowning in the swimming pool first thing in the morning. I'd used a stick to help him clutch onto a wire vine support, thinking it might be a safe spot for him to recover, among the vines. I suppose the buzzing was a way for it to let us know everything was going to be okay.