Hervé was riding his motorbike around town. He arrived back home with a dragonfly attached to his headlight. I promptly took a photo. Its colours are beautiful, and it was huge as you can see. We all gathered around him, trying to will him to live.
We marvelled at his compound eyes, the fragility of his wings and the vibrancy of his colours.
As the minutes passed his strength diminished. I tried to learn how to pronounce dragonfly in french. Libellule. I aborted the ability to say that word and decided just to call him Monsieur le Hélicoptère. All the while he slowed raised and lowered his broken middle leg as if to help us understand his ailment. Alas! We were unable to help.
He sat on the kitchen table that night as we dined. He had lost his life and we mourned the passing of one of God's most exquisite creatures.
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