Snip and snails and... dragonfly tails. That's what little boys are made of (and some girls too)

I was sitting on my brother's couch when my 11-year-old nephew sidled up beside me. Calmly he said, "I found something really cool floating in the swimming pool... but you may not think it's cool..." his voice trailed off a bit.

"Really?" I asked with all sincerity. He had my full attention. Rarely does he deem anything as "cool" let alone "really cool", and I know if he does, it almost always involves some sort of wildlife (a boy after my own heart).

"What is it?" I asked inquisitively.

"I found a dragonfly floating in the deep end of the pool. It's this big," he indicated with his fingers a large find.

"Is it still alive?" I asked.

"Maybe... I don't know... probably not..." he replied.

"What color is it?" I was thoroughly intrigued both in the dragonfly he had found and the fact that this normally unassuming, quiet, and cerebral boy had initiated the conversation with me instead of the other way around.

"He's kinda brown," his eyes twinkled with the delight of a boy who has found someone who loves bugs as much as he does.

"Where is it? Your dragonfly is going to be the first thing I photography with something new I got!" I was already headed to my tote bag in the hall and talking over my shoulder.

It was he who was intrigued now. He followed me to my bag as I extracted my latest fun acquisition still in the unopened package. I had thrown it in "just in case" and, at this moment, I was so glad I did.

I showed him as I unpackaged it (dropping my iPhone in the process--good thing it was in a case) and explained, "This is an Olloclip. It clips onto my iPhone so I can take close-up macro photos of things that are small. I want to try it out on the dragonfly you found!"

I clipped the lens onto the corner of my iPhone over the top of the built-in lens, and he led me to the dragonfly that had been carefully and lovingly laid out on a paper towel by his mom (my sister) in a shoebox to make a safe journey home with them later in the day.

He stood and watched as I gingerly dragged the paper towel to get the perfect indirect light from the kitchen window and began shooting. I was amazed at the details I was catching--details my eyes couldn't see. We both ooo'ed and aah'ed with each capture. Pretty soon we had an audience as other family members wanted to know what all the excitement by the kitchen sink was about.

After I felt like I'd captured every angle, the dragonfly was placed reverently back into its shoebox. Neither he nor I were happy about the dragonfly's demise. We never said it, but we both knew the other was thinking it. Also unspoken, was the sentiment that somehow by appreciating the beauty of this fascinating creature and honoring it through careful study, it's untimely death wouldn't have been in vain.

We stood afterwards and carefully reviewed on the iPhone what the macro lens had seen that we could not--the tiny perfect serration on each wing-edge and the luminescent panes of gossamer film. It is moments like this that remind me to strive to always see the world the way a child sees it.

I am not affiliated with the company that produces the Olloclip or Apple that produces the iPhone. 
I was not compensated for anything written in this post in products, services or monetary funds.
I simply wrote about them because they are cool.