You get a picture like the one above in the morning before the Sun has burned off the dew. Insects will often be lethargic and placid, not having warmed up for the day. The Blue Dasher is one of my favorites to photograph because it tends to be less skittish than other dragonflies and the males have gorgeous green-blue eyes.  I have not, however, often found early morning, dew-spattered specimens. Of this particular capture, the eye on the left shows some battle scars, probably from a territorial dispute, and to my imagination’s eye, the fettered eye on the right is covered with “dragon tears.” But it’s not. Bugs don’t cry, and maybe I should or should not envy them for that (or may be I should not “should,” quite possibly), but in contrast there is a certain enticing comfort in their stark realities. Humans have a more muddled path, it seems, one where our tears blur rather than enhance. What is lasting and what is temporary? What is real and what is imagined? It’s hard to tell sometimes whether our emotions bubble from the wellspring of weakness or the wellspring of strength.  I struggle with it, but I do know that, eventually, the Sun will shine our tears away, too. I’m not sure if that is a comfort or a burden for you, but in the meanwhile may we not cry, but rather fly, as the dragons do.