A Butterfly: I was almost run over by a butterfly walking the streets of St. Louis—a big black-and-yellow butterfly flew straight at my head. I ducked, and then thought, “What? Did I just dodge a butterfly?” And laughed. And watched it flit all around. Stay with me, I thought.
Another Rabbit: As I walked the same St. Louis neighborhood, I saw a little brown rabbit in the grass between the sidewalk and the street. He froze at the sight of me. I squatted down a few feet away, and since I didn’t have a cat to scare the rabbit, I decided to just wait, breathe deeply, relax, and let the rabbit know, I just intended to be good company. The rabbit loosened up, hopped around a little, came a bit closer, and we shared a little corner of the earth for a time. Then a car whizzed by and scared the rabbit off.
Damesflies, spiders, butterflies: On a lake in Missouri out at Innsbrook, I paddled a kayak one morning. A spider crawled up on the bow right on the center line; then a little closer to me, landed a damesfly on the same center line. A couple of butterflies flitted around on the sides. Escorts. The damesfly kept returning after the others left. In the morning light it looked jet black. It flew close and lit on the kayak where I could watch it closely. It was smaller than a dragonfly with 4 wings, but right on top of one another, not spread out like on a dragonfly, and with a shorter, smaller, stick-like body. Later that day, I was floating on the lake, lying on my back on a raft, and the damesfly came back. This time he was a shimmering, shining, midnight royal blue—my favorite color—the color of the sky at a particular time of night. He lit on my stomach, and I watched him for a long time. He flew off, and came back with his mate. One’s tail curled under, and the other mounted on top, latching on to the space between the head and the tail, with its own tail straight out. The one on bottom looked black, and now the one on top was black with 2 turquoise blue patches—one on the head and one on the thorax-area. They mated on top of my stomach for a long time; flew off; came back; off and on, all afternoon. They looked like Sanskrit when they were together.
Paddlefish: Meanwhile, on the same lake, kayaking the same morning, about 10 feet from my boat, a huge fish jumped straight up out of the water. It was about 4 feet tall and very thick with a huge paddle-shaped bill. It looked prehistoric. “What was that?” I paddled back as fast as I could. As I floated that afternoon, my only concern was whether that fish would jump up underneath me. It never did, but it did jump all around. There was more than one fish. All over the lake, huge fish with paddlebills would leap high in the air. I watched them all weekend, and asked a man who was kayaking by the shore what they were. He said they were paddlefish, and they were stocked in these lakes because they were bottom feeders and kept the lakes clean, and they were also sources for caviar. According to Wikipedia, the American Paddlefish is the Missouri State Aquatic Animal.
Another Rabbit: As I walked the same St. Louis neighborhood, I saw a little brown rabbit in the grass between the sidewalk and the street. He froze at the sight of me. I squatted down a few feet away, and since I didn’t have a cat to scare the rabbit, I decided to just wait, breathe deeply, relax, and let the rabbit know, I just intended to be good company. The rabbit loosened up, hopped around a little, came a bit closer, and we shared a little corner of the earth for a time. Then a car whizzed by and scared the rabbit off.
Damesflies, spiders, butterflies: On a lake in Missouri out at Innsbrook, I paddled a kayak one morning. A spider crawled up on the bow right on the center line; then a little closer to me, landed a damesfly on the same center line. A couple of butterflies flitted around on the sides. Escorts. The damesfly kept returning after the others left. In the morning light it looked jet black. It flew close and lit on the kayak where I could watch it closely. It was smaller than a dragonfly with 4 wings, but right on top of one another, not spread out like on a dragonfly, and with a shorter, smaller, stick-like body. Later that day, I was floating on the lake, lying on my back on a raft, and the damesfly came back. This time he was a shimmering, shining, midnight royal blue—my favorite color—the color of the sky at a particular time of night. He lit on my stomach, and I watched him for a long time. He flew off, and came back with his mate. One’s tail curled under, and the other mounted on top, latching on to the space between the head and the tail, with its own tail straight out. The one on bottom looked black, and now the one on top was black with 2 turquoise blue patches—one on the head and one on the thorax-area. They mated on top of my stomach for a long time; flew off; came back; off and on, all afternoon. They looked like Sanskrit when they were together.
Paddlefish: Meanwhile, on the same lake, kayaking the same morning, about 10 feet from my boat, a huge fish jumped straight up out of the water. It was about 4 feet tall and very thick with a huge paddle-shaped bill. It looked prehistoric. “What was that?” I paddled back as fast as I could. As I floated that afternoon, my only concern was whether that fish would jump up underneath me. It never did, but it did jump all around. There was more than one fish. All over the lake, huge fish with paddlebills would leap high in the air. I watched them all weekend, and asked a man who was kayaking by the shore what they were. He said they were paddlefish, and they were stocked in these lakes because they were bottom feeders and kept the lakes clean, and they were also sources for caviar. According to Wikipedia, the American Paddlefish is the Missouri State Aquatic Animal.
Heh. Reminds me of a time we were walking in the woods near Austin and you saw a rabbit. Your reaction was a bit different all those years ago.
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