Oh my! What a piece of writing and sharing about mystery. "A hinged and serrated lower jaw" … only to end that paragraph with the part where I chortled — "a pollywog’s worst nightmare." Then on to more philosophical wonderings in the mythic story of the dragon’s hubris transforming him/her into a dragonfly but still magnificent. And then the science bit about flying and still seeing us when they have passed us by; and that without a rear view mirror. My personal story is a moment I’ll never forget. It happened somewhere between a swamp area and a quiet stretch of ocean beach just north of the 49th latitude in Western Canada. It was a warm, late spring day. Not a soul there except myself, birds and the "invisibles." First I heard a thrumming that was not quite a wing beat coming up behind me. It was actually thousands of gossamer wing beats in unison. Very soon I was in the middle of a throng of hundreds if not thousands of blue darners flying at my head level and slightly above me all along the beach. It was like a visitation of angels. It was all over in a minute or two that felt like eternity. I was outside of thought and simply in a moment of revelation. I will never forget my awe and the sense of momentarily being one with them. Now your wonderful writing has me wanting to know how often that happens. Do they sometimes rise from the years in their larval stage en mass? Was it an anomaly? Where were they going? Together? Does this only happen near salt water? Were they at the beginning of the ten weeks in dragon fly form? On and on there are questions not directed at you per se but mine to consider years after my cherished revelation . I too celebrate the mystery.

Anna, wow, what an experience you share! Yes, so many questions after such a wonder-filled experience. I love (and relate to) your statement, "I was outside of thought and simply in a moment of revelation." And yes to celebrating (and embracing) the mystery!