The Last Empress

We go to Bodnant looking for autumn colours. It is a glorious morning, and whilst the reds and gold are yet to reach their zenith, it’s still stunningly beautiful - azure  skies and sunshine after days of dull grey. 

What we do not expect is a lone female emperor dragonfly swooping around the lily terrace. It’s mid-October, but this brave Empress seems oblivious. She’s flying low above the water, her wings iridescent in the sunlight. Slower than her summer flight, she’s clearly tired - and desperate. Her preferred egg-laying sites, floating islands of weed, are missing from the lily ponds, and lily pads - still there, with flower buds - just won’t do for laying eggs. Instead, she chooses moss-encrusted stones to deposit autumn eggs, forlornly hoping  this will provide a secure haven for her progeny. 

And so she rests, against the setting sun of a russet lily pad, the Last Empress of this year’s noble race.