Dragonflies fill my thoughts, perhaps due to the recent deluge here. The backyard has transformed into a verdant haven of Florida's native flora. Bees, butterflies, and dragonflies thrive in this lushness, and I wouldn't be surprised if a few fairies were in attendance as well. Allow me to share a tale with you...
The Legend of the Dragonfly
Should this tale hold truth, we narrowly escaped a world devoid of dragonflies. Fortuitously, fate did not follow that path. As is commonly known, the dragonfly stands as an emblem of change and illumination. It embodies the wisdom of life's transformation and adaptability. This narrative is a testament to that very essence. Lend me your ear, and I shall recount it as it was once recounted to me...
In an era long past, when elves and dwarves reigned supreme over the Earth, majestic dragons soared the heavens. These formidable creatures, vast and powerful, were titans save for a singular frailty—their insatiable lust for gold. They coveted all forms of gold, gems, and lustrous treasures. This avarice made them susceptible to bribery. Thus, elven lords ascended their scaly steeds, soaring with pride until arrogance consumed both rider and beast. Indeed, these grand dragons were a spectacle, yet they were not the sole dragonkind. There existed a lineage of dragons deemed unworthy by the elves—too diminutive for noble regard, their slender frames too delicate to bear any burden.
Their larger cousins derided their simple lives. No wealth adorned their modest nests. No gleaming gold or sparkling jewels lit up the humble abodes of these pitiful little dragons.
"It takes a whole bunch just to fill one's mouth," Sapphire grumbled.
"And they must be eaten raw because they incinerate too quickly to be roasted," Günter bemoaned.
Yet, as they grumbled, they continued to feast. Their insatiable hunger meant that the tiny dragons had to flee, retreating deep into the forest to where the foliage grew dense. Too dense for a large dragon to care to follow.
Breathless and trembling with fear, little Odonata sought refuge under a mulberry bush on a dandelion leaf. She steeled herself to calm down and listen. She hoped to be joined by her kin, yearning for a sound of familiarity, but it never came. She was solitary, save for the clutch of eggs she bore. The fear of leaving the leaf's safety gnawed at her, yet she knew she needed to find water soon to lay her eggs, or she might indeed become the last of the tiny dragons.
As she mustered the courage to leave her shelter once again, a sound caught her attention. It wasn't a dragon. This sound, though sorrowful, was exquisitely beautiful. That's when she noticed wings on a nearby leaf. Wings on a leaf? No, it was a minuscule elf. "A winged Elf? What kind of creature is this?" Odonata wondered.
The creature recoiled and sobbed. "Oh, please don't eat me, dragon. My wing is hurt, and I can't provide you with a proper chase," Lila implored. By this point, it was clear that Odonata had met her first fairy. I remember my own first encounter with a fairy; I had to blink and shake my head to believe my eyes, and Odonata's reaction was similar.
"Worry not, friend, for I have no desire to eat at this moment. What I seek is a pond or lake where I can lay my eggs, so my lineage does not end with me," Odonata clarified.
Lila's spirits lifted. "I know of a place where the morning light dances on the cool water and the water lilies display a spectrum of hues, but alas, I cannot fly to guide you there."
"I have the perfect solution!" Odonata declared excitedly.
She carefully extended her wing, emulating the grand dragons she had observed. Lila understood and mounted her back. Together, they soared through the underbrush, with Lila guiding their path.
As the saying goes, the rest is history. Lila and Odanata forged a bond for life. Even once her wing mended, Lila continued to journey on Odanata's back. The escapades they shared were remarkable! This sparked a trend; Odanata's offspring matured and allied with riders from the Fae, not for wealth, but in the spirit of true friendship.
As time marched on, the larger dragons persisted in their hoarding and conflicts, ultimately facing extinction. This allowed the smaller dragons to glide freely, unafraid. When you spot one atop the highest flora in your garden, recall this narrative. Peer closely, and perhaps you'll glimpse its companion. Send them your silent hopes to 'fly, dragon, fly.'
