A translucent olivegreen film rests on the far surface where the wind has directed, a crescent upon the pond. A thin brown ring circles the pond’s edge separating the water from the brushed up bank, sign of dry weather. The bank is choked with thick green tough tough tough weeds and grass and saplings that arise, some in tendrilled clumps like hydras. Cut off one head and five more replace it. Dragonflies skim in acrobatics ceaseless swirling hairpin turns. There — one of them streaks in a hard linear flash and another rises improbably high to the pine boughs.
July.