Dragonfly wing

Today I saw the dragonfly
Come from the wells where he did lie.
An inner impulse rent the veil
Of his old husk: from head to tail
Came out clear plates of sapphire mail.
He dried his wings: like gauze they grew;
Thro’ crofts and pastures wet with dew
A living flash of light he flew.
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
A murky moisty occasionally bright sort of day with the sea patchily azure. I had to do the shopping. This is usually Himself's job but he was busy trying to create an online shop. I'm not very good at it (neither the shopping nor the technology) and my list got damp and I forgot a lot. I did however show some Ukrainian women how to cope with the trolleys in Lidl and gifted them a euro to use one. The mime was interesting. I'm pretty bad at that too.
And the blip is all that remains of a dragonfly thingy on a stick which you could hide amongst the flowers - now lying on a small sill on Himself's man shed. Himself built said shed and the windows, rather nice old sash ones, were recovered from an old shop that was being modernised.