These dragonflies live only for a season, but every new season, they exist again. I've looked at them for years and they're always the same, exact copies of one another, precisely like their parents in every detail. It could be said that, from a dragonfly perspective, they see each other as individuals, but as for my point of view, they're interchangeable. From their perspective, they live complete lives: they start as eggs, then they swim in the pond as larvae, and finally they dart about as flying adults. But to me they simply reappear, they reincarnate when the whether turns warm.
Now you take me, for instance, 137 years old and barely able to walk. It's fair to say, I've lived. It's fair to say, I've danced all I had to dance. I've had my fun. You would think I'm ready to let go of life and put this ugly body on the ground to rot. You would think I had time enough to do whatever I set up to do when I realized that something has to be done with a lifetime. But I'm not ready, no sir, I still have many things to do. I've wanted to accomplish something distinct and extraordinary, but in all these years, I have not yet managed to do so. And even at my advanced age, I do not now how near or how far I am from attaining my remarkable thing. Now I won't live much longer and, likely, I'll die frustrated. I've lived my season, sir, and I will not come back.
Size: 2.75" x 3.5"
Price: Part of a larger piece. Not sold separately.