The story of Icharus has long been one of my favourite myths. It’s probably supposed to be a parable about vain ambition and hubris, but I prefer to think of it as a parable about the tools you use to build your method of escape. The photo above was taken a few evenings ago when that cloud was the only cloud system of it’s kind in the sky, and it looked rather like a faltering Icharus to me, falling downwards.
But humans always wanted to fly. Part of that is because we see the grace of the flying creatures around us and wish for their freedom. Another fascination of mine which has been indulged here at the lake is watching the mating ritual of dragonflies. I see them hovering above the water or the ground in tandem flight, an amazing show. I don’t know why exactly it’s so captivating to me, but it’s like watching acrobats, except they’re dragonflies and so they never trained. It always leaves me awestruck, struggling to imagine what that kind of communication and synchronicity would be like between human beings.
It is a beautiful dance whether you attempt to extrapolate universal truths from it or accept it as part of the beauty of the wild things around you.