On this hot Iowa afternoon, a dragonfly repeatedly bounced off the snout of a 16-inch snapping turtle. Surely there were more peaceful venues nearby, more hospitable hosts, but here was this dance to the silent music on our pond. For fifteen minutes the dangerous flirtation continued. Are dragonflies suicidal? Can snappers be charitable? Did these skittish beasts not notice me in my kayak just two yards away? If I had done a crossword puzzle, I would have missed them.

No, they are not faithful companions, not contributors to Iowa's economy. We scarcely notice such wild creatures. The whirring of dragonfly wings is drowned out by our chatter. Turtles slip beneath the water when we start down the path to the pond. Still, they are among us with their beauty, complexity, and mysterious behavior. We have only to notice.

And, we have only to protect places where such dances occur. Every day they are dredged up, paved over, and given names like Turtle Ridge and Dragonfly Circle. Someday, when we desperately need to see a dragonfly, no one will be able to draw up a blueprint for such a wild place and rebuild it. No one will ever teach a dragonfly to dance on the nose of a snapping turtle.

There are such mysteries going on all around us, and even a glimpse brings delight to the heart. We have only to notice.