29.6.07

I'm glad I have my eyesight, because I am going deaf

It's interesting how words can spark memories, and they flood back into your mind in full colour. Sometimes thinking is a thousand times more real and vivid than a movie could ever be. Dragonflies.
Dragonflies.
Dragonflies.
They've played a role in my life much more than anyone would think a simple insect should. It seems to me that some of my fondest memories involve insects.
...I still have dreams from time to time about the house my dad used to live at, on Reef Point Road. The way there was winding and hilly, and my dad was a reckless driver, and I'd have nightmares about falling off these roads several years afterwards...
The home was on the lake, and surrounded my woods. Needless to say, there were a lot of insects.
In the summer when it was extremely hot, the insects would fall into the water and die. Often though they'd be trapped on the surface of the water, still alive, with no one to save them.
Who wants to save a bunch of insects?
I was young, and dragonflies intrigued me. This was far before I got my fear of anything with more than four legs.
I stood on a dock, and reached into the water, picking one dragonfly out after another. Their bodies and wings covered in water, they were unable to move away from me. This was the one time I could catch them. I carried them up the stone steps into my dad's dark apartment. I laid them there, to dry and to cool.
"They're going to die"
A few hours pass.
They begin to fly.
They flew.
They flew up around the rafters of my dad's apartment.
I haven't felt so purposeful in my entire life since that time I saved those dragonflies when I was six years old.