My delightful daughter created a dragonfly for me and tasked me to write about it. The thing hovered over my dresser for a few weeks before I finally decided it was time to tell its story. I do hope you find it as charming as she did.

Happy Sunday!

Color Me King

Bopping his belly on the prickly grass is Dragonfly’s favorite way to spend an afternoon. True, no one can hear his chuckles because of the constant purr of his horizontal wings, but from his vantage point, he can spy on the creatures of the garden, and search for his next prize. Today he watches Mr. Caterpillar as he inches forward on a branch. His weight bends the stalk backwards. He clings to the limb for a few minutes before losing his grip. He topples to the ground.

“Try a slingshot next time, good fellow.”

“Pick on someone your own altitude, Dragon.” Caterpillar rights himself from his fall. He lifts each of his six tiny fists, ready for a fight.

“And keep up the splendid efforts.” Dragonfly says, as he quickly buzzes off. It isn’t wise to make enemies with future flyers, so he hovers right above the garden bed and continues his search.

Dragonfly knows he is more hated than the weeds. And it’s not jealousy of his speedy flight. No, in fact, it is Dragonfly’s inabilities that make him despised.

Dragonfly is the least favorite guest at every garden party, and that’s if he gets invited at all.

Right ahead, a stream of ants moves in time through a row of garden dirt. When they hear Dragonfly, they run scatter patterns to avoid him. Dragonfly corners one of the younger ants before he can disappear behind a garden leaf.

“No need to hurry off, tiny friend.” Dragonfly’s compound eyes reflect a million ants, where there is only one. “Got any intel for me?”

“I’d rather die of hunger than tell you.” The young ant says.

“Nonsense.” Dragonfly rapidly adjusts his altitude to intimidate the ant.

“We’d rather find ourselves in a downpour.” Another ant pokes out from behind a leaf.

“It’s not a dirty deal. Tell me where it is, and I’ll lead the way for all of us.” Ants really have great spunk, muses Dragonfly. Too bad he isn’t in the mood for red.

Dragonfly’s wings continue to stir the leaves, but when there’s no response, he abandons his ploy.

Impudence from the ants. What would be next? Rude remarks from the ladybugs?

But it’s then he spots it. A glossy teardrop swinging from a vine, hidden by a broad leaf, protected from predators and the direct rays of the sun. Dragonfly would have missed it entirely had he not flown in to interrogate the ants.

He zooms towards the black beauty, swinging left and right to avoid the neighboring plants. “Purple is the color of royalty. And today, I crown myself king!” Dragonfly speaks to no one in particular, but no matter. Someone is always listening in the garden bed.

Dragonfly alights gracefully on the back of the season’s first offering. He goes about his task to bite the crop and absorb from the creation all its iridescent colors.

With each bit, Dragonfly’s grey flesh flushes with color. What he lacks in style, he makes up for in trickery. He is the most notorious thief in the garden, taking without permission the colors of the flowers, insects, and plants around him. All the while, he fashions for himself an iridescent jacket, a greedy, gluttonous rainbow.

So, to this day, it is common knowledge that it is never wise to turn your back on a dragonfly, for you never know what he will be in the mood to wear.

© 2023 | K.Hartless