My town’s newspaper is called The Mosquito, and for good reason. Despite being less than thirty miles from Boston, this community is small (under 5,000 residents) because much of the acreage is wetlands. In the summer it sometimes seems as if the main thing that we grow are blood-sucking pests.
This is why there is one voracious and unrelenting predator that I welcome to my yard. The dragonfly. The dragonfly’s prey of choice are mosquitos, gnats and deer flies. I’d hesitate to work in the garden without this effervescent beauty clearing the air of biting insects. The dragonfly ignores humans. It’s as if we don’t exist. It’s not uncommon for one to land on me, as if I were just another plant. For a moment it’s like wearing living jewelry.