Dragonflies are alive and well in California hills

I am blessed with seeing the most beautiful large red and dark blue dragonflies on my daily walk through the adjacent park around its little lagoon or pond where a pair of mallard ducks dip for food, and occasionally, early morning, a grey heron appears.

 This poem which I had clipped from the NYT floated up from a notebook page, today:

After the Dragonflies by W.S. Merwin.

Dragonflies were as common as sunlight
hovering in their own days
backward forward and sideways
as though they were memory
now there are grown-ups hurring
who never saw one
and do not know what they 
are not seeing
the veins in a dragonfly's wings
were made of light
the veins in the leaves knew them
and the flowing rivers
the dragonflies came out of the color of water
knowing their own way 
when we appeared in their eyes
we were strangers
they took their light with them when they went
there will be no one to remember us. 

Bill Merwin is in his late 80.s as he heads into the 90's. as of September 30, I think he must turn 90.  ..and I feel like he is saying good bye to the world, to his readers, to his life.  He is nearly blind, and has been losing his sight since the last time I saw him when his film debut took place on Maui.    He would be happy to know that I remember.  That I see dragonflies, that they are still with us.   

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