There’s nothing quite like the view from a mountain to make you feel just how big the world really is. The landscape stretches ahead of you for miles and miles. Towns look tiny, nestled in the valley. The long, brown road snakes in and out of mountain. The great pines look like nothing but dabs of dark green on a landscape of white and tan.

It’s a whole new perspective. It’s getting the bird’s eye look at the world while feeling like nothing more than a mouse.

Something surreal tends to happen right before a big storm. The beautifully painted sky is slowly consumed by big, dark, billowing clouds. A sometimes eerie silence descends on the earth. Birds and bugs alike go silent, waiting for the moment. In the distance, faint rumbles of thunder can be heard. As the storm gets closer, they get louder and more frequent.

And then it happens. The first few drops of rain fall on the dusty, parched fields. The silence is deafening as the creatures of this earth wait. And as if to answer the prayers of farmers, the heavens open to release the waterfall of life. Lightning illuminates the sky as the dust settles and those who depend on the soil breathe a deep sigh.

This is a picture of luck. And a lot of patience. I had already spent quite some time, lying on my back, contorting my body this way and that, just to get the perfect shot of a simple dragonfly. I tried low angles. I tried high angles. But nothing quite captured the feel. I didn’t want all the background noise. I just wanted the dragonfly. Pure and simple.

So I took photo after photo. And then it happened. I focused solely on my subject. I took a deep breath and pushed the button. And  there it sat; the perfect, focused moment. A snapshot of a single moment in time, as a dragonfly hangs carefully onto the end of a stick as the backdrop of the world circles around it. Nothing fancy. No editing. Just life in a moment.

There is something so powerful yet gentle about these creatures. With their long horns, they can be a bit scary. But if you really look into the eyes of these Highlands, you’ll see a tender softness. This particular Highland had just become a big brother, although he wasn’t much older than a year himself. He was very curious about the new little bundle who tried to run on such wobbly legs.

There was a lot of sniffing and poking. And, eventually, a great long tongue emerged and licked just the tip of the little baby’s nose. It was as if to say, “Welcome to the long horned, cinnamon colored, Highland Family, little one.”

How delicate and fragile they seem, floating on tissue paper wings. The warm breeze pushes them through the air. They land so delicately on the flowers, holding on with perfect balance. Oh, to have the grace and beauty of a butterfly.

With a little luck, they’ll perch upon an outstretched hand or shoulder, soaking up the warmth of the sun. These creatures of winged elegance flutter against the expansive backdrop of a periwinkle sky.