Life lessons from insects in Autumn

The arboretum in Guelph, is, unsurprisingly, absolutely stunning this time of year. It’s full of life - dragonflies, praying mantis, finches, butterflies, and various insects. But even though it’s really teeming full of little insect communities, it’s easy to miss just how alive the bushes and grasses are.  During a walk a couple of weeks ago, I paused to take notice of this dragonfly, above, and my boyfriend snapped a picture of it. He posted it on Facebook, and received a number of questions about the type of camera he used. I found it interesting that people grew excited about the equipment that was used, but no one commented on the subject matter. This dragonfly blended in so well with the grasses. Its brown and green body are perfect colours for this time of year. Even its copper, rust-coloured, shimmery wings camouflage nicely with the long, crunchy blades of grass. This dragonfly easily could have been missed, and the picture never would have been taken. This picture reminds me that the most important tool is not the camera; the most important tools are our eyes, and our ability to pay attention.

This dragonfly, which makes such a beautiful photograph, would be easy to miss - but look out stunning! Look at the complexity of the wings, the incredible shape of its body built for dynamic flight.

On another recent visit I said hello to this praying mantis.

It seems to have an expression! He seems to have… a personality! Funny, isn’t it?

And this butterfly: Look at how paper-thin these wings are. They look so delicate; it’s amazing what they can do.

Perhaps it is a good lesson, not only in photography, but in regards to many of the other activities we do, and goals we set. To do anything great, even to live well, first we need to notice what is there. With practice, giving attention and noticing what is present, we see what is beautiful, what has grace. This practice becomes second nature, and we can begin to engage with the world at a deeper level.

And what is also brilliant is that these opportunities to practice exist everywhere; with a camera, or without. In a simple garden or lawn. If we can learn from insects, surely the lessons must be truly abundant.