either way, it's first flight was in the morning sun

The pool at my parent's house serves as a breeding and feeding ground for all sorts of beasts and insects. 
Squirrels. Bunnies. Chipmunks. Frogs. Birds. Bugs. 

Throughout the fall I monitored the growth of tadpoles from egg to frog. A few dozen made it. Their society was depleted by the elements: scorching sun, chilly nights, hungry sparrows. I even awoke one night to hear raccoons swimming and gobbling. I threw off the blankets, rushed outside and spooked them off with waving arms. As I fell back asleep, the swimming and gobbling commenced. Life is fragile. 

Now there's a new batch. They are smaller, darker and developing much more slowly. While the raccoons aren't interested in this brood, the dragonfly nymphs are. It's an all you can eat buffet and larvae eat for free. 

Everybody is interested in something: Seconds ago, I watched a dragonfly emerge and wiggle it's wings for the very first time, only to have them plucked and it's body consumed by a tiny bird. As the ants rushed in to take care of the wings, the bird flew into the light of the rising sun. 

Now my coffee is cold and I lost my place in a book.