Ranking quite high among the things you don't expect to find on the pavement of a busy shopping street is surely a dead dragonfly. But there it was. At first I thought someone had dropped a rather gaudy bracelet, but a closer look showed that it was indeed a large, brilliantly coloured and newly dead dragonfly (a Southern Hawker, I think). I lifted it by one gauzy wing to take a closer look, and was inevitably reminded of the Grandaddy song The Group Who Couldn't Say, about a band of co-workers who win a day out in the countryside - in particular the verse
'Becky wondered why
She'd never noticed dragonflies
Her drag and click had never yielded
Anything as perfect as a dragonfly'
(How's that for an internal rhyme?)
Here's the whole song, one of the best on a great album, Sumday -
Nige, who, like Mr Kenneth Horne, prefers to remain anonymous, was also a founder blogger of The Dabbler and a co-blogger on the Bryan Appleyard Thought Experiments blog. He is the sole blogger on this one, and his principal aim is to share various of life's pleasures. These tend to relate to books, art, poems, butterflies, birds, churches, music, walking, weather, drink, etc, with occasional references to the passing scene. His book, The Mother of Beauty: On the Golden Age of English Church Monuments, and Other Matters of Life and Death, is available on Amazon or direct from the author.
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