Weightless
October 24th 2022
The soft rhythmic sound of rain tapping on the windowsill gradually filled the quiet room. We had reached the end of summer when the evenings grew so hot and clouds grew so heavy that they could not help but deluge us with rain. Today was no exception.
When I stood to my feet, a bit of sunlight glinted off of something in the courtyard; a glass bottle, perhaps, or a child’s forgotten toy. I walked curiously to the window and looked westward, over the towering oak branches heavy with precipitation, and squinted. Sunlight had forced its way through the moisture laden atmosphere and began dancing off of every raindrop that drifted its way to the earth. I turned from the window, thoughtlessly slipped a pair of old sandals onto my feet and bounded weightlessly down the stairs, the door left ajar behind me.
Rainwater had begun to pool as it cascaded over the corner of the roof and I found myself standing where the sidewalk met the garden bed, my feet covered with muddy water. My hair quickly flattened, water dripping onto my shoulders and soaking my shirt. I felt mascara run down my cheeks.
I suddenly felt the urge to continue forward, away from the building and through the courtyard as muddy clay suctioned to my sandals. My steps slowed as I met the heavy, black gate and reached for the safety latch which, with a slight strain and flick of the wrist, pulled free. At the same moment, I hooked my foot between two bars and pulled the gate toward myself, supporting the weight of it, doing my best to avoid the inevitable slam it would produce if I were to let the monstrosity close on its own.
As the rain fell lightly, the pool before me created patterns unlike anything I had seen before. Each raindrop that broke the surface rippled softly and spilled over into the next. The surface was alive. My clothes clung tightly to my skin, peeling away only slightly when I moved. A chill came over me as the sun disappeared behind the clouds and the tips of my breasts poked through my shirt. I removed it and laid it on a chair beside me.
The warm water welcomed me in, like a hot cup of tea early in the morning. I waded for a moment and then leaned back, letting the water hold the weight of my body. I closed my eyes.
A soft buzz floated above me and I peered upward through the raindrops. My eyes focused on a small insect, diving and weaving around me, settling to the water, touching it softly, and then quickly rising again. Soon it was joined by another, and then another, and before long I was surrounded by hundreds of them. Daintily yet fastidiously they floated through the air above me. I felt peace in this moment and I lay for a while, observing their movements, until the sun set behind the row of oak trees and a quiet darkness came upon us.
…
I have since grown fond of dragonflies, and they frequently visit me in the garden or on walks in the evenings. I am reminded of the subtlety they exhibit, and the simple tendencies and behaviors displayed that night. I am often met with a pang of jealousy, for the complexity and confusion in a human life can often feel overwhelming. They remind me that there is more to this life than the difficulties we face or the troubles on the horizon. They remind me that some of the earth’s greatest and most peaceful contributors are only visible when you close your eyes and let nature reveal them to you.
Learn more about dragonflies, their behavior and temperature control.
