It is the first day of the dragonflies but they won’t last long if my cat has any say in the matter. They have that look of prehistoric wisdom, a proven design. All that existence compressed into just one week on earth, a millennium stamped on a marble-sized head. But they are iridescent and don’t bite, they don’t make much sound or give off bad smells. They just drift from scene to scene as if it is all new, these silver wings, these fresh scents. No matter how many thousands of years it’s been this way, by spring it all feels new again.