Linda and the Dragonflies (July 6, 2012)

Linda and Pata

It was a hot day (something like 93+ degrees) and we rode over fifty miles to Geneva State Park in Geneva, Ohio.  As we pulled into the park to register for a campsite there was a lovely and warm woman who greeted us.  Her name was Linda and she was the park naturalist.  It turned out that she had planned a program on dragonflies for the park visitors, however no one had showed up (probably due to the heat). 

Now dragonflies loom large in David's and my life.  I have a Fuji RC Supreme racing bicycle at home that is as light as a dragonfly and as quick.  David named her dragonfly two years ago on my birthday.  (On that same birthday, right after he named the bicycle, a good friend of mine gave me a beautiful dragonfly card.  It seemed the name was confirmed by the Universe!)

I also had had a dragonfly hitch a ride with me on the Canal Trail through New York.  It landed on my stem and stayed with me for a good five minutes.  I kept looking down and seeing it still there.  Finally, it flew off, probably preferring to travel with a bit more speed than I could muster.

And just the day before our encounter with Linda, a dragonfly had landed on David’s water bottle while we were at camp.  He took this picture of it.  It was amazingly cooperative, as he turned the bottle for a better picture, and it stayed.  David showed that close up shot to Linda, who enjoyed the synchronicity. 

DW: Later in the day Linda came to our campsite on her bicycle to say  a follow-up hello. Her friendliness made our visit so much nicer (contrast this with a New York ranger who, when seeing me pull up to the park's entrance booth asked me bluntly, "What do you want?"


This GSC was very nice with plenty of shade trees at our site and facilities close by. The only drawback was a nearby tethered dog who barked incessantly throughout the afternoon and well into the night. I laid in the tent wondering the penalty for dog strangulation.

The other ubiquitous sound are the train whistles throughout the day and night - whether we are camping or or pedaling the train whistles carry across the landscape as they roll through the countryside. Sometimes we will catch glimpses of the trains pulling what seems like a mile long length of cars; at other times in certain camp sites it seems as if the trains are coming through our tent with their furious thunderous rhythmic clacking, giant jets with no wings.