Message from a dragonfly …


It’s that time of year again.  I am looking for respite in all kinds of creative ways.  Five minutes of laundry, a three minute prayer, a coffee mug that needs washing right away.  The reports are being completed, one at a time, each around 20 pages, some longer.  The pressure is intense.  End of school year is three weeks away.  Children who are eligible for special needs funding need people to zone out everything else and commit to deadlines.  I’m trying to stay afloat.

Having flown in this morning, I made a list of things I needed to do before flying out again tomorrow.  My knees did buckle momentarily.  There’s only 24 hours in a day.  On days like this, that is a revelation and surprise.

I can work late into the night, I reassure myself.  I’ll rest in the hotel tomorrow night.  It’s something I tell myself each time, but rest is elusive.  I always find something else ends up with a higher priority.

As the clothes line got busy with wet laundry, she caught my eye …

As much as I love birds and, a friend tells me whenever she sees a bee, she thinks of me, I have always been drawn to dragonflies.  The fact that they fly across oceans with filigree wings, amazes me.  I have photographed them as they fly, mate, and with wings poised, alight on surfaces, but I have never seen one at rest.

As I ticked laundry off the list, I stopped.  I heard the message through my camera.

Rest, fold your wings
balance awhile
tomorrow, we fly again

And, for a moment, as I looked through the lens, the pressure eased.

a dawn bird


In response to Daily Word Prompt – Alleviate – November 30 2019



In open landscape or empty beach I am constantly searching for that one thing that speaks to me and when it does, I settle in to listen.

Jurien Bay, Western Australia

This is the smallest shell I have ever found.  To give some perspective, the sand is fine like sugar.  The shell is no bigger than a nail from an infant’s pinky finger and, like a gift offered, filled with scooped sand.

If we viewed our lives as such, moments scooped in a tiny shell, would we live our lives differently?  Be less afraid?  Love more deeply?  Take risks in the knowledge an ending is just a beginning elsewhere.  Maya Angelou, says this well.

Passing Time (by Maya Angelou)
Your skin like dawn
mine like musk

One paints the beginning
of a certain end.

The other, the end of a
sure beginning.

Worth thinking about …

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

A Birthday Reflection


I’ll be celebrating a significant birthday this month.  It seems to be giving me pause for many reasons.  I would love to write about it but the words just don’t seem to reflect how I’m feeling. Maybe I’ll write about it at a later date.  At times like this, I reach for the work of Anne Morrow Lindbergh.  I found this poem that seems to articulate how I feel.

Bare Tree
Already I have shed the leaves of youth,
stripped by the wind of time down to the truth
of winter branches. Linear and alone
I stand, a lens for lives beyond my own,
a frame through which another’s fire may glow,
a harp on which another’s passion, blow.

The pattern of my boughs, an open chart
spread on the sky, to others may impart
its leafless mysteries that I once prized,
before bare roots and branches equalized,
tendrils that tap the rain or twigs the sun
are all the same, shadow and substance one.
Now that my vulnerable leaves are cast aside,
there’s nothing left to shield, nothing to hide.

Blow through me, Life, pared down at last to bone,
so fragile and so fearless have I grown!

Anne Morrow Lindbergh (

Yes, “so fragile and so fearless have I grown” is a double edged sword that is increasingly a burden too heavy, sums it up for me today.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird