“Time is for dragonflies and angels. The former live too little and the latter live too long.” James Thurber
We found him lying on the sand, dead. His bug-eyes still glowing a bright green, and his four intricate wings still outstretched, but immobile. He was no longer zig-zagging around like the hundreds of others that were buzzing us like helicopters as we strolled along the beach. Perhaps his time had been cut short, as Thurber suggests, or perhaps it was his time after all? In any case, I scooped him up carefully and added him to my bucket of beach-combing finds.
We were anchored in Pacific Creek, at the northern end of Curtis Island, near Gladstone in Queensland. Gladstone is best known as a heavy industry port, and Curtis Island is now home to a number of LNG plants, so it isn’t at the top of people’s “must visit” list. In fact we had planned to give it a swerve as well, until Cyclone Debbie came along (and the following floods) and we headed into the relative sanctuary of “the Narrows” and its sheltered anchorages. But it turned out to be an interesting and tranquil detour.
Adjacent to the anchorage was a (relatively) remote stretch of beach perfect for beach-combing. The recent cyclone had littered the beach with all sorts of debris: freshwater plants, ripped out of mainland rivers, roots and all, crab-pots and buoys plastered with barnacles, an old ladder, lots of plastic trash, a few nice sea-shells, and … my little green dragonfly. He had karked it on the sand from causes unknown…
…RIP little dragonfly.
*This post is once again the result of the Blogging University assignments I’ve signed up for. #everyday inspiration