Dance of the Evening Flies

One of my favorite passing moments. The ritualistic cloud of evening flies in spring or summer backlit by the falling sun hovering meaningfully and purposely about five feetĀ above the backyard grass.

Always reminds me of a time one spring ago when a cloud of waxwings descended on the bird-feeder tray hanging from the backyard maple and did their own amazing slow-mo ritualistic dance. Something ‘built into’ Nature and instinct for different beings.

I suppose you could even say that this kind of illuminated/illuminating slow-mo dance goes on at human social functions as well. Fascinating to watch in a lazy, perpetual motion, each fly, bird, or human suddenly achieving some sublime state of pleasurable interaction and slowed-down ecstasy suddenly available to an observer’s perception and consciousness.

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