It was a summer of change. The women just didn’t know it yet.
They were cracking through their own chrysalises with wet wings that would carry them to something new, but they only saw darkness and only felt the heaviness of confinement. That is the way of humans. They are here for such a short time that even these brief moments of discomfort cloud their vision of what is and trick them into thinking it will always be.
I would have to leave them soon. Another change they could not predict. I had already stayed too long, but I had grown so fond of these humans. Each one was so bright. Not just with the energy only I could see, but with light that enveloped everyone around them. And while their spirits were only growing stronger, their bodies weakened. Nothing alarming. But their crow’s feet and smile lines were deepening. It was just a matter of time before they became more than simply envious that the skin of my own face never creased.
This would be our last summer. That’s why I said yes to every ridiculous trip they suggested. Humans love to get away, never realizing that the magic of life is around no matter where they plant their feet. Still, I found it poetic that they wanted to visit Battleground Lake, given that they were each fighting their own kind of war.
We all bobbed on the water now, balanced on paddle boards only two of us needed. It was a moment of calm in the frenzy of uncertain circumstances.
To my right was Riley. She was holding so much aloft I worried the weight on her soul would cause her small frame to tip sideways on her board. She was a mother, but so much more than simply maternal . There were dreams locked inside her, rattling the cage and eager to escape. But like so many mothers of this era, Riley didn’t have the time to attend to what she wanted. There were children to shuttle and feed, a home to care for and a family to support. So many of our conversations these days were her asking, when will it be my time?
To my left was Matilda, who had the opposite problem to Riley. It was her time. The trouble was she didn’t know it yet. Or perhaps she didn’t trust it. I find with humans the knowledge of truth rarely guarantees trust in it. Matilda was no different. She was finally free of all that had dimmed her light — a bad relationship and a soul-crushing job for starters — looking around for permission to shine. It saddened most people to see her stalling, but I knew that these things just take time, something people have a bad habit of wasting.
I sat in the middle, enjoying these last moments with my friends. It’s a hazard to get too close to humans, but I couldn’t help myself with these two. So I had stayed for nearly a decade too long and watched as they navigated the petty dramas and genuine triumphs that a human life can contain.
Just as I was wondering how I should leave — a new job in Europe perhaps? — Matilda gasped.
“Look, a dragonfly! It’s so close to us guys!”
“They’re omens of change,” I said.
“Another Irish fairytale?” Riley said with a wink. She was always teasing me for my references to Irish folklore. It was ostensibly about the lilt in my accent I could never shake, but I wondered if she could sense the truth behind the jest.
“I think I heard that too,” Matilda said.
“I hope it’s true,” Riley said. She lay back on her paddle board and sighed.
“Same,” Matilda said, chewing her lip. “Maybe it’s a sign?”
“You need more than a bug to make a sign, Matty,” Riley said without turning her head.
Riley, as usual, was right. A single dragonfly didn’t signify much more than the reality that the world is in a constant state of change. But I wanted these women to have a sign of hope for when I was gone.
I dipped my hand into the lake, wet up to the wrist. Then I danced each dripping finger along the glassy surface in time to the song I knew these insects loved. I hummed its tune so softly it was lost on the wind. As the last note faded from my throat, it echoed in a hum that forced Riley to sit and Matilda to swivel her head side to side. I didn’t need to look. I knew what was coming.
It would make no sense to the humans. A wave rising the wrong way; from the trees and out to the water. Hundreds of bright blue dragonflies moving as one to skim the surface of the water only to break around the tight cluster of our paddle boards. Riley shrieked as the sea of change moved past her. Matilda starred in wide-eyed awe. I smiled then asked, “How’s that for a sign?”
The women turned to me, their shock melting away to ecstatic laughter. They threw their heads back as something more powerful than simple joy emanated from them. It looked an awful lot like belief.
Yes, I would leave soon. These two would be just fine.
Travel is one of my great loves. One reason is that I am constantly inspired. I find myself wondering at the lives of people I see or the backstory of the places I go. My imagination runs wild and I end up scribbling little vignettes into one of the notebooks I always carry.
The seed of this travel-inspired story was planted when I visited Battleground Lake with two of my best friends. It was such a happy time filled with both joyous laughter and deep talks about our future. We did in fact see many dragonflies. Whenever I see these gorgeous insects I genuinely do remember that the Celtic people saw them as symbols of change. Our conversations, the peaceful water and the buzz of dragonflies stayed in my mind, germinating into this story. Those three things are where the similarities with my trip and this story end, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.
“It looked an awful lot like belief.”
This line gave me chills. Love this piece and I was so curious about the narrator!
“How’s that for a sign?” Ahh that was magical! Beautiful story 👏👏