When the Porch Comes Alive

A curious visitation by winged wonders on a summer breeze…

It started quiet. Just a few dragonflies at first—clinging to the rail of the porch like they'd been called in from every corner of Indiana. And then suddenly, they were *everywhere*. On the porch posts. On the truck. In the yard. Like lacework wings gently fluttering in the hush of summer, thousands of them settled in as if they belonged there all along.

I've never seen anything like it. You could hear them flutter—soft, papery rustles rising and falling like nature's own lullaby. I stood there, caught between awe and wonder, thinking how maybe they were messengers, or maybe just one of God's quiet marvels making an appearance.

It’s not often the world slows down enough to let something like that happen. But for one little stretch of time, our Indiana porch was transformed. And I like to believe it meant something.

Dozens of dragonflies clinging to a wooden beam — They came all at once, clinging to the porch rail like prayers on the wind.

Maybe it was just the weather. Or the time of year. Or maybe, just maybe, the ancestors decided to stop by and check on us awhile—riding in on dragonfly wings and a warm breeze.