A dragon killer, cruising in the air above my garden, looking for prey, which of course have no showed up yet. I went out there this morning and began planting and tending, getting my patio bed ready for my critters. As I planted, and weeded and tended my soul began to heal from the awfulness that was this week. After my chores had been done and all the plants and bulbs were in the ground and two loads of laundry were blowing in the warm breeze drying, I sat with a cup of tea and just drank in the atmosphere. The dogs who had been outside with me all morning found a cool spot under and tree and after a little bit of digging a cool spot went to sleep. The birds were singing, and in the distance I could hear a Carolina Wren calling out his territory to the other birds. The red bellied woodpecker is looking for a wife right now so he is relentlessly rapping on the gutters hoping to attract attention. The lizards were out in force, no doubt enjoying the warmth of the sun, I saw a male running up a post which formerly housed a bird feeder and he flashed his throat in the hope of attracting a passing female, which it did, and in celebration he changed from his drab brown garb to his brilliant green livery and the female seemed impressed. A pair of eastern tiger swallowtail butterflies soared above me, oblivious to anything but each other as they performed their mating dance on the warm spring breezes. Bees buzzed around my Lady Banks rose, burying down into the petals and sipping the early nectar where they could. All around me the neighborhood was alive with activity, lawn mowers were coughing into life after a winter in the garage, accompanied by curse words from the owners of those that refused to do so. The birds, while wary of my presence, ventured down to the feeders to grab a late snack as the sun began to go down behind the trees in my neighbor's yard. A Morning Cloak butterfly flew passed, obviously looking for a scarred tree to drink its sap, and one by one yellow sulphers flew around the garden. Even a Cabbage White headed toward the vegetable garden and I didn't even mind. Later in the afternoon martins or swifts (whichever they were) flew above the house, gathering insects as they do, and then headed off to wherever it is they roost. I needed that hour. After an awful week, I needed that hour of rebirth and renewal, where life literally surrounded me, where all around me there was new life. Perhaps I can't make a difference to the world, perhaps I cannot help with global warming or world famine or even species going extinct. But there is one thing I know for sure, in my little acre I can make a difference. This year birds will thrive and produce young because I care for them, the lizards will reproduce in my cide free garden because I make sure that none of the insects that they eat will be contaminated, the butterflies will visit the flowers in my garden and then lay eggs on the plants that I have planted for that very purpose and the dragonflies will lay eggs in my pond and the next generation will hatch in spring next year, just as this year's generation are hunkering down in my weed infested pond and waiting just waiting for that moment when they know it is time to leave the water and take their first breath of air. And it is because of me. Perhaps I can't change the world, perhaps I can't save it. But I can save my little acre of it, and I intend to do so. And on the wings of a newly hatched dragonfly will go a little of my soul, and I will live forever.