At the same time I was introduced to Dragonflies as a very young lad, I learned that my Great Grandmother, "Mamie" was much more nimble than she appeared.  It seemed to me, she was about the same age as the hills that ringed the town of Adams, Massachusetts. That she could bound across our backyard in a heartbeat was, in itself, quite astounding to me. That she could do it blindfolded was still more astounding.  She was dressed in her usual attire: a very old-fashioned dress protected by a long apron. A wide-brimmed straw hat shaded her wrinkly face from the sun. She occupied her usual seat on the swing set, and dipped back and forth through a shallow arc. I suppose the movement through the still air helped to keep her cool on this warm, lazy summer day. Suddenly, the tranquility was shattered as she shrieked and exploded from her swing.

"Oh my God, there's a sewin' needle!" She flipped the apron up and over her head as she streaked across the yard, and in an instant the porch door slammed behind her. She would see no more of the beautiful day, other than through the windows.  A little boy is very curious about such behavior.  I followed her in. After she recovered sufficiently, she explained, and I understood. Getting away as fast as you could was the only appropriate course of action when encountering a creature who could sew your lips together if it got close enough and you gave it the chance.  Apparently her strategy for staying out of harm's way worked. It seemed to me that if it hadn't, she would have had a much more difficult time warning me of this great backyard peril.