Early summer on Westhay Moor is dry and dusty. The main road, if you can call it that leads from the busy mayhem of Glastonbury Festival out to tranquillity and a wilderness full of colour and life. It was just another girly camera day. We don't do shopping. Our escape is with a pair of boots, a picnic and a selection of lenses. Heading along the track, the first damselflies start dancing around us. Green, blue and brown they hover, taking us in before darting off to the next thing that takes their fancy. Dotted amongst the grasses are small plants. Lovers of the dry, flourishing like frivolous party goers the morning after a rave.
Following the dancing damselflies we are drawn away from the main path. Seeking moisture and shade in equal measure as much as basking sun these darting blue streaks tease and delight. The moor creaks and booms with the life hidden in the reed beds. The harsh call of a coot merges with the boom of a bittern. Instantly over-ridden by the chuckle of a blackbird in the tree tops above. The senses bubbling with sight and sound as well as the distinctive scent that this warm peat moor exudes. Along the edges of the now green and shaded paths the uncurling bracken fronds support the daily activities of the damselflies.
Immersing ourselves in the damselfly frenzy surrounding the lakes showed different stages of life. From basking to gain energy for flight, obelisking to lose heat and the bizarre mating wheel that forms as they reproduce, these jewel encrusted beauties kept our attention. Time and again we were going to leave and move on. Only to be drawn back into the moment. Time is precious, but so is time away from your mind. Watching the damselflies allowed the mind to relax, to unwind and absorb the beauty that these creatures present.
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