The trees were naked. The sky a soft, woolen blanket – grey and lazy over the mountain tops. I was walking on the gravel road down to the river.
Yesterday afternoon it had been raining heavily. In the night there was frost. Now the forest floor was full of frozen water droplets, like jewels of diamonds and pearls.
The cold, crispy air on my face. The sound of my shoes on the gravel. The silence, that expands when I listen to it. I love this time of year.
I almost stepped on him. He was laying there, in the middle of the road, with his wings dressed in shining diamonds. Frozen. Dead, I assumed.
I stopped by his beauty. Kneeled down to see him close. To study the drawings of his wings, the color of his body.
Carefully I put my fingers underneath him, to lift him up. His feet grabbed my finger. I saw them, they were designed almost like these axes climbers are using, when they climb ice or mountains. I didn´t know if it was a sign of life, or if it was just the form of his feet that gave the impression that he grabbed my finger.
I carried him home, to study his beauty with my camera. I brought a rock from the forest, and placed him on the rock on the table in my room.
For hours I immersed myself in photographing him – his delicate wings, the intense blue color – while his frozen jewels slowly melted into water.
Outside the window, just above the Ganesha mountain top – a crack appeared in the grey. A ray of shining. Suddenly he moved, he stretched his front legs, lifted his upper body.
I stopped. Saw him as a being. Sat down, and looked into his face.
I have always been fascinated by the beauty of dragonflies, their fine wings and strong colors. But never before have I looked into the face of one, and never would I have thought I would see what I saw; the smile of a dragonfly.
He placed one foot in front of the other, lifted first his upper body. Then the back part, like he was stretching and bowing down.
I asked google, if dragonflies are dying or hibernating when the autumn comes. I didn´t find a clear answer. There are many types of dragonflies.
But carefully I carried my new friend outside, found a safe place for him, where no cats or cars would come. I laid a hand on my heart, touched by the mystery of an autumn morning – with nature stripped naked, dressed only in jewels of diamonds and pearls – and the smile of a dragonfly.
Text & Photos by Savini Aspholt
Savini has been involved in the work around Swaha’s retreats for many years. She enjoys writing and photography, and loves to dive into the depths of her own soul and of the forest. More about Savini: www.aspholt.no