Apparently, I’m running a dragonfly nursery…

Yesterday I noticed a few strange little creatures wandering around the bottom of my pond. I took a picture, did some investigating, and discovered that my mysterious new tenants were dragonfly nymphs.

Then I found the second creature pictured here—or rather, what was left of one. It was an empty exoskeleton.

Dragonflies begin their lives underwater, where they can spend months, sometimes years, as nymphs. When the time comes, they climb out of the water, attach themselves to something solid and quite literally crawl out of the body that carried them through their underwater life. What remains behind looks like a tiny, abandoned suit of armor.

I found this utterly enchanting. I built a little pond because I wanted the energy of water in the garden. Then frogs and insects arrived, birds discovered it, and apparently somewhere along the way a dragonfly looked down and thought, Yes. This will do nicely.

After all the time I’ve enjoyed watching the dragonflies drink from the pond and dance their iridescent dance above the waters, I never stopped to think about the journey that brought them here.

Transformation doesn’t always require knowing what comes next. The dragonfly spends its early life beneath the water with no experience of wings or sky. Then something ancient within it says, Climb.

And it does.

Although today I’m less interested in turning that into a serious spiritual lesson and more delighted by the fact that I have tiny prehistoric-looking creatures prowling around my pond eating mosquito larvae before eventually turning into flying jewels.

Nature is very cool. And my little backyard pond has become far more interesting than I ever planned.

✨Blessing✨
May you trust the quiet changes taking place within you.
May you recognize when it is time to climb toward a new world.
And may you leave an old skin behind whenever your wings are ready.