Along with fires burning everywhere, the continued decline of democracy and a sense of doom and dread regarding the future, I think we need to manifest some collective LUCK, don’t you?
She came all dressed up to the party last night With sequins and stars in her hair And she took off her shoes as she danced right along The edge of a coin in the air “My name’s Lady Luck,” she said with a smile And her words floated out like a song “And you don’t think you have any choice when I’m summoned But I’m here to tell you you’re wrong…
Excerpted from Becky Hemsley – Artwork by YuumeiArt
So…I got sick again, this time a really nasty upper respiratory virus with a high fever and a headache that made me want to chop off my head, that’s how bad it hurt. I wasn’t able to read or watch TV or do anything but lay in bed with an icepack on my forehead.
I hadn’t been sick in so long that I had forgotten how miserable it feels. As if shingles wasn’t bad enough, this was the icing on the cake of misery.
Now that I seem to be on the mend after some much-needed antibiotic help since I got a secondary bacterial lung infection, I’m looking at some drafts I started before I wasn’t able to function.
Right after I was almost completely healed from shingles, I took a walk and encountered a beautiful sight — dozens of dragonflies swirling around the front yard of a neighbor’s house.I took a photo but it didn’t capture the incredible vision of loveliness.
I think what I witnessed was a feeding swarm.
I’ve never seen more than one or two dragonflies at a time so I did some research. A group of dragonflies is most commonly called a swarm. Other, less common terms sometimes used include a flight, a cluster, or a dazzle.
Dazzle is funny because it makes me think of jazz hands. “Jazz hands!” IYKYK
Dragonfly swarms generally fall into two categories:
Feeding swarms: Small groups that hover low to the ground to catch smaller flying insects in a specific area. To see a large group of dragonflies means you’ve stumbled upon a massive feeding or migratory swarm. Biologically, it indicates a high abundance of flying prey like mosquitoes, often triggered by humid weather, or a seasonal shift. Symbolically, it represents transformation, adaptability, and positive change. A bunch of dragonflies spiritually amplifies the core symbolism of a single dragonfly: transformation, adaptability, and emotional maturity. Because they gather in groups, a swarm or cluster often represents a major shift in your life, a blessing of prosperity, or the energetic Massive Transformation: Just as a dragonfly goes from living in water to flying in the air, a cluster of them indicates a period of profound personal metamorphosis. It is an encouraging sign to trust the changes you are going through.
Spiritual Messengers: Many mystic and cultural traditions view dragonflies as bridges between the physical and spiritual realms. A gathering is often interpreted as a visual reminder that guardian angels or deceased loved ones are nearby and watching over you.
Abundance and Prosperity: In Chinese and Japanese folklore, dragonflies symbolize good fortune, swift success, and harmony. A bunch of them is a highly positive omen signaling incoming blessings, success, or wealth.
Emotional Clearing: Because of their strong connection to water, seeing them together is often a prompt to dive deep into your own emotions, release past illusions, and embrace new beginnings with a lighter heart.
I’m not sure how that applies to my own personal cluster of feeling like shit, but I’ll ponder on it while I lay here suffering in my woe-is-me state of wretchedness.
Here’s a cool poem about dragonflies by Tennyson, who wrote it in 1833:
The Dragon-Fly Today I saw the dragon-fly Come from the wells where he did lie. An inner impulse rent the veil Of his old husk: from head to tail Came out clear plates of sapphire mail. He dried his wings: like gauze they grew;| Thro’ crofts and pastures wet with dew A living flash of light he flew.
“She held the whole of the Moon In her hands, in her heart”
I wrote this at three in the morning because I can’t sleep.
A few days ago, I sprained my lower back doing another dumb thing like most (all) of my injuries and there isn’t one single position that doesn’t cause excruciating pain, so I hoped these pretty words would take my mind off of it because Tylenol didn’t work, neither did Tiger Balm — nor arnica, ice, or heat.
Yesterday I thought I should stretch out my back so I did some pilates and other exercises but that just made it worse. I can’t take ibuprofen because it causes digestive issues, so there isn’t much I can do except suffer, I guess.
I know I’ll heal in a week or so, but until then, I’m not enjoying life at all.
“But once in a while the odd thing happens, Once in a while the dream comes true, And the whole pattern of life is altered, Once in a while the moon turns blue.” W.H. Auden
A while back a neighbor was tossing out a few orchid plants that she thought were dead or dying. I rescued them, gave them love, and patiently waited.
I’ve been rewarded with not one, but two of them throwing spikes and blooming at the same time!
Photo by Enchanted Seashells
Best of all, they’re one of the few flowers that don’t trigger my allergies!
Photo by Enchanted Seashells
Slightly different shades of fuchsia bring joy.
Photo by Enchanted Seashells
I don’t know why anyone would discard an orchid; they’re not that difficult to maintain and there’s immense satisfaction when they rebloom.
I found an obscure poem about orchids by José Santos Chocano, written in the 1920s:
The Orchids
Freaks of bright crystal, airy beauties fair, Whose enigmatic forms amaze the eye— Crowns fit to deck Apollo’s brows on high, Adornments meet for halls of splendor rare! They spring from knots in tree-trunks, rising there In sweet gradation; winding wondrously, They twist their serpent stems, and far and nigh Hang overhead like wingless birds in air.
Lonely, like pensive heads, all fetterless. Lofty and free they bloom; by no dull chain Their flowers to any tyrant root are bound; Because they too, at war with pettiness, Desire to live, like souls that know no stain, Without one touch of contact with the ground.
According to Google, Shams Tabrizi (c. 1185–1248) was a wandering Persian Sufi mystic born in Tabriz, Iran. While he traveled extensively, he is best known for being the spiritual guide of Rumi in the 1240s. He later lived and died in Khoy, Iran, where his shrine is located.
(I figured this was more positive than commenting on current events.)
I’ve been trying to capture this photo for a few days and my patience and persistence finally paid off. I think she’s searching for a suitable nesting site, or maybe she really thinks this hummingbird wind chime is a cousin, I dunno…
I had to snap the pic through the screen door so I wouldn’t scare her off, but I’m completely happy with the result. It’s these little joyful moments that make life worth living, don’t you agree?
I discovered a poem written by D.H. Lawrence about hummingbirds:
Humming-bird I can imagine, in some otherworld Primeval-dumb, far back In that most awful stillness, that only gasped and hummed, Humming-birds raced down the avenues.
Before anything had a soul, While life was a heave of Matter, half inanimate, This little bit chipped off in brilliance And went whizzing through the slow, vast, succulent stems.
I believe there were no flowers, then In the world where the humming-bird flashed ahead of creation. I believe he pierced the slow vegetable veins with his long beak.
Probably he was big As mosses, and little lizards, they say, were once big. Probably he was a jabbing, terrifying monster.
We look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of Time, Luckily for us.
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 