Wind Dancer - Halloween Pennant

Walked around the pond last night, munching on a few wild plums. 

High in the cattails, on the apex of the tallest blade, perched a pennant - 

Halloween pennant, Celithemis eponina.

In the approaching dusk, a lusty breeze prevailed, bending the rushes and reeds and cattail blades to and fro, but our pennant was unperturbed.

Firmly grasping the utmost tip of the cattail blade, the dragonfly rode the gust like a rodeo cowboy on a wild mustang pony, undaunted by the bucking and swirling and swerving and dipping.

In a brief moment of calm, it shifted its grip, gently swaying in the wind like its namesake pennant or one of those dragonfly kites in the dunes at Emerald Isle.

Motionless, frame firmly fixed to its mount,
yet a veritable study in the physics of motion,
wings adjusting constantly to the fickle breeze,
its miniscule mass balanced on the tip of a pendulum motored by the zephyr.

Pennant, dragonfly, mosquito hawk, wind dancer,
one and all,
this beautiful creature gyrated against an ever--changing backdrop of trees and clouds and water and clear blue sky;  

never moving, never still, 

occupying its little niche with a grace and aplomb refined over countless generations,

surviving and thriving here by this little pond in the wood.

I watched and I wondered at its serenity. 

Ten minutes gone, I had places to be and things to do, and still it danced, placidly, the picture of peace and calm.

Faithfully clinging to the tip of its leaf, oblivious or unconcerned by my intrusion; 

to what end, I wondered. 

What purpose, this persistent repose?

At last we parted, question unanswered,

my busyness to blame.

We dance to different beat, I and the dragonfly, 

as we move through this world of ours.

Perhaps tomorrow I'll request a slow dance.