Baby Dragonfly

Baby Dragonfly

The night before Ragan had taught me to listen to the the city. He
pointed at three different trees and identified the species of insect
singing in each.

This morning I sat at the El station trying to clear cobwebs from my
head and shake off the lingering feelings of forgotton dreams. I was on
the raised platform early enough to be alone. The sun was just up
shining at nearly horizontal and making me feel like the world was
tipped sideways. It was well before rush hour when the trains come
every three minutes. I would have checked the schedule if I'd had a
watch. Instead, I just put my bag down and settled my back against the
metal bench.

I closed my eyes, but the sun was up and I was well awake now. There
was a rough chirping sound in the air. I looked across the tracks and
saw that I was level with the treetops. The insects were singing again.
There were two different kinds at least, but I didn't know the names. I
concentrated and tried listening to the platform the way Ragan had
taught me to listen to the city streets.

Immediately I noticed another buzzing, not the bugs this time. I looked
up to see flourescent lights flickering above me. They were louder and
a little lower in pitch than the insects.

Then came a gentle drumming on the tin roof over my head. For an
instant I thought it was rain, but then I looked again at the clear and
sunny August morning sky. The pigeons arrived, all at once like they
had planned it. It was their footsteps that scratched and clattered on
the roof. From there they fluttered down to the tracks, either ignorant
or careless of the "Danger Electrified Tracks" signs placed every ten
feet above the rail. The mass of pigeons descended and settled on the
tracks like confetti on parade streets. But even as they hopped about
the tracks the birds nearest each other continued to joust for
position. The winners remained while the defeated rose up and hovered,
searching for an open space or more friendly place to land and pick at
the litter on the rail.

Every time a pigeon made the effort to fly it beat its wings with such
vigor that they came together both above the body of the bird and
below. The resulting sound was a chorus of applause, as if the whole
flock were in celebration.

I left the pigeons to their breakfasting, making a conscious effor to
find more.

I had been leaning forward to watch, but now I sat back again and
listened. As I did I heard the deep and rythmic hooting of an owl. I
knew it had been sounding since before I arrived, but I only just
noticed it now, calling out to the traces of night that disappeared
before the new morning.

A movement by my foot drew my attention. Flys, I hadn't noticed them
either. They were buzzing about in circular patterns or landing
periodically and carefully tasting different objects with their
twitching legs.

I looked up to see the pigeons leaving, just as suddenly and
unanimously as they had come. I knew the train was coming, and before
long I heard its rumbling come from up the track. There was a puff of
air as the flat front of the train passed me. The whole thing squealed
to a stop. As I stepped onto the train a mechanical voice said, "Doors
Closing." With a hiss of released air the sliding double doors closed
behind me.

Inside the train I was no longer listening. My hearing was buried under
the white-noise roar of the air rushing by outside. Inside the car the
lights and air conditioning contributed their regular buzz and
hum.

I put on my headphones and reached to adjust the volume. And there it
was stuck to my pant-leg. I tried to brush it off quick, but it clung
to my pants. Then I looked more closely. It was bright green, a few
centimeters long. It had two rows of legs all of them with the pointed
ends stuck into the cotton fibers of my pants. On the back it had four
thin and papery wings. The head was almost completely covered by two
black eyes. I thought it was a baby dragonfly, but I couldn't be sure.
I pinched one of the four wings and gently pulled it free. For a moment
longer I examined the tiny dead creature that I held.

Then I smiled and let it drop from my fingers and fall between the
seats of the El train. I did not dwell on it for long. I did not need
to. It was all clear enough.