My garden is demonstrating a last-ditch effort to produce anything fruitful due to the heat, and regrettably, a bug infestation that has taken place as well.  I fought valiantly, but eventually the bugs won.  A little while ago, I was in the garden picking dozens of cherry tomatoes from my amazing giant tomato plant.  It is approximately 10 feet tall and draping all over the place, despite my creative stakes tall enough to support it; I should have pruned it long ago.  Stooping under the graceful limbs, heavy laden with small tomatoes I couldn’t wait to gather, I caught sight of her, a huge iridescent dragonfly resting on top of a garden stake about 18 inches from my face.

I don’t really like insects at all, though I realize they are all very necessary to keep nature balanced.  But she was different; minding her own business with her beautiful stained glass-looking wings shining in what was left of the day’s sunlight.  I said “hello” out loud and she cocked her head towards me.  When I cocked my head in the other direction, she did the same thing.  If I moved forward, she moved back.  If I moved back, she moved forward.

Suddenly, in this big and chaotic world of ours, I found myself totally locked in a dance with her, enjoying a “moment” nature provided for this one-person audience.  For a minute, we observed one another.  She must have instinctively known I meant her no harm.

What took me aback was the intelligence I experienced in a living thing so small and common that I had never noticed before.  She did not demonstrate fear or wariness by my presence.  She was not startled or irritated.  She was simply in the moment and inquisitive.  I wish I could be more like that, instead of always worrying about deadlines and self-imposed pressure.

I also wondered if the dragonfly may be resting.  Maybe that was a sign for me to rest too, because my work has kept me juggling so much up in the air for the last year.  I went about picking my tomatoes and cucumbers after she flew off; I was left with the very weird sensation that it would be me who missed her, and not the other way around.  We really are connected to everything, and sometimes we all need to “take a moment” and learn a lesson from nature.

©2014 The Estate Lady®

Julie Hall, The Estate Lady®, is the foremost national expert on personal property in estates, including liquidating, advising, and appraising. http://www.TheEstateLady.com  She is also the Director of American Society of Estate Liquidators®, the national educational and resource organization for estate liquidation. http://www.aselonline.com.

No part of The Estate Lady® blogs, whole or partial, may be used without Julie Hall’s written consent.  Email her at Julie@TheEstateLady.com