It’s the first day of “official” summer, but by that measure, it’s not summer yet.
No, that moment comes late tonight — at 11:32 PM local time, to be exact. Which means that only 28 minutes of this day are summer; the season’s first full day, by colonial reckoning, at least, is tomorrow.
Not that the colonial world bothers with such details.
In our world, it’s been summer for some time now. We are fortunate this year that the weather patterns alone are now proof of that, suffocating morning heat followed by monsoonal afternoons and cooling temperatures, with warming sunsets to follow. But the other relatives with whom we share this land know it, too, and are already in residence. The hummingbirds, of course, have been here since April or so, seemingly already aware by some avian sense that they needed to return to their refuge here early. The bees, too, have been in evidence for a while, as have the small butterflies. One mourning cloak and one Western tiger swallowtail have joined us, spending their time flitting among petals and leaves during the warmer hours of the morning, mostly.
But that most summery of spirits, the dragonfly, has now returned, and more than only one. I’ve seen at least three distinct species in recent days, including a smaller skimmer-like individual yesterday, arcing across the afternoon air in a moment between small showers. We have also had at least a couple of the larger ones join us, one of them likely a giant darner. And their sudden presence gives me hope that despite the weather of recent summers and a surrounding half of the country in flames, we shall have a good and healthy season: that amid the fire comes the water, too
It’s an elemental song and dance that used to be the very essence of summer here, high temperatures and cooling rains and an earth fertile with medicine al at once. We know now, beyond any shadow of even the smallest doubt, that such conditions are not guaranteed; indeed, lately they are vanishingly rare. And so, given the gift that such conditions’ small but measurable return is for us now, it feels as though the creation of today’s featured work was itself a harbinger, or perhaps a means of summoning these small messenger spirits back home. At the time of its creation, it became an instant personal favorites, with its mix of Art Deco geometry and Art Nouveau grace in the design, perfect hosts to its equally bold mix of the spirits of fire and water that animate it. From its description in the Necklaces Gallery here on the site:
Water Song and Fire Dance Necklace
Dragonfly is a messenger of the spirits, a manifestation of summer’s water song and fire dance. Wings summons the strength found in such fragile wings to carry the message safely through the season’s storm and light. The dragonfly pendant is cut freehand of a single piece of solid fourteen-gauge sterling silver and stamped similarly freehand, a repeating crescent pattern forming the segments of its lower body and long, flowing lines veining the wings in a design that evokes the elegance and natural grace of Art Nouveau imagery. The head is teardrop of perfect sky-blue Kingman turquoise set into a saw-toothed bezel; the upper body, a stunningly radiant rectangular cabochon of Rosarita (gold slag) nestled in a plain, low-profile bezel similarly hand-made. The bail, lightly flared at the top and tapered at the ends, is hand-milled in a feather pattern whose flowing lines pick up the veining in the wings. The pendant is buffed to a glowing Florentine finish and hangs suspended from an extraordinary strand of burnished sterling silver round beads. Bead strand is 18″ long, excluding findings; pendant hangs 2-7/8″ long, including bail, and is 3″ across at the widest point. The bail is 1/2″ across at the widest point; the turquoise cabochon is 5/16″ long by 1/4″ across at the widest point; and the Rosarita cabochon is 5/8″ long by 1/4″ wide (all dimensions approximate). Full view shown below.
Sterling silver; Rosarita (gold slag); Kingman turquoise
$1,450 + shipping, handling, and insurance
It is the perfect tribute to the summer season now “officially” only hours away — a seasonal spirit solidly in residence here for a few weeks already. That it’s wrought in such traditional form and shape and style only adds to its power, an honoring of ancient spirits and the skills and work of the early smiths among our peoples.
And it has much to teach us, too. It’s no coincidence, after all, that Dragonfly is regarded as a messenger by some cultures: He is one of the few spirits whose form allows him to fly in six direction, and to hover besides, all necessary skills when one is tasked with delivering words from the spirits to mortals too often distracted or simply unwilling to hear.
Right now, the message they seems to bear is one of hope, that we shall have an actual summer this year, with all the possibilities of future abundance that such a season entails. Amid the fire comes the water, and if the clouds to the smoky, hazy west are to be believed, we may have a little of it yet this day.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2021; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
