Occasionally, when I point a camera at something and adjust the lens into sharp focus, I discover my subject is staring directly back at me. Such moments can be a bit disconcerting—especially if the creature returning the intense gaze is a garish, frame-filling on-the-prowl predator that looks like a winged monster from a '50s horror flick.
During that tiny fraction of a second before reason and reality kicks in and you chuckle at the fact you're being sized up by a hungry male Blue Dasher, something else flickers across your emotional screen…the marrow-chilling thought that if you weren't too large for even the most optimistic dragonfly, this would doubtless be your final earthly vision.
Skewed perspectives can be scary.
8 comments:
Yes, scarily beautiful. And your font size is now no longer scary – but just right!
Solitary…
Ha! Yup, you're right, "scarily beautiful!" Unless, of course, you're mosquito-sized. Then, any such beauty would likely escape your terrorized appraisal.
I'm really glad you let me know re. font size. Haven't heard anyone complain lately, but it's good to hear that maybe I've managed to work things out on the redesign.
Fantastic photograph Grizz. Thank goodness they are not five times as big.
Yikes--well, indeed glad that we are too large for dragonflies to eat. I occasionally get buzzed by a dragonfly and never once contemplated being its lunch.
Gee, thanks, Scribe.
Weaver…
Some of the prehistoric dragonflies had wingspans exceeding two-feet. While they still wouldn't likely have looked upon humans as potential prey, I'd certainly be even more wary and nonplused to find one giving me the eye down the barrel of my telephoto lens…or buzzing past my ear as I crept along the banks of a pond.
KGMom…
I have dragonflies zip close regularly when I'm afield in their territory. Occasionally one decides to employ me as a handy perch and lands on an arm, shoulder, or headtop. I don't mind. I've been used for worse, by creatures less forthright and beautiful.
I've also actually been stalked a couple of times by things that were—or might have been—thinking of killing and eating me.
Because we're generally at the top of the food chain, in our lofty smugness we tend to forget there IS a food chain. I think it's good and healthy to occasionally be reminded otherwise…even if that reminder is only a false distortion of magnified life through a lens.
Just had to tell you, Grizz... We've seen the first dragonfly on our new pond today. A blue skimmer (I think).
Solitary…
Congratulations on your dragonfly. I'd take that as a favorable sign, an acknowledgement of providing suitable digs—especially good eats. Only the first of many, I trust.
Odd as it might seem, in spite of living literally on a riverbank, this isn't the best spot for dragonfly visitations. Oh, one will buzz through the yard every so often, or go zooming upriver (never downriver, I swear), and I see a few hunting here and there over bankside vegetation or rifflestones, maybe above the gravel bar across from the cottage. But not nearly as many as you might imagine, even though this is a fairly slow-moving stream of excellent quality water. When I want to photograph dragonflies other than by chance, I check out ponds and lakeshores, where there are dozens clattering about. Part of this has to do with different species occupying different habitat niches, of course, but I somehow expected to see more. I do have damselflies in abundance, though.
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