by Erin Fanning –
Ian and Grandma floated along the river in a double kayak. The tops of pines broke through the mist like turrets on a castle. A frog hopped onto driftwood in the shape of a sword.
“I’m Sir Ian, Knight of the Kayak.” Ian looked over his shoulder at Grandma, who sat behind him. “And you can be Queen of the River.”
“I’d be honored, Sir Ian.” Grandma chuckled and bowed her head.
Sunlight broke through the mist. A yellow and black dragonfly darted over the kayak. Ian ducked. The little boat rocked from side to side.
“Dragons are attacking.” Ian raised his paddle to swat at the dragonfly. “Don’t worry, Queen. I’ll protect you.”
“Stop, Sir Ian. The dragonfly is protecting us,” Grandma said. “It eats mosquitoes and flies but it doesn’t bother humans. This one is called Dragon Hunter.”
The dragonfly landed on the kayak’s forward hatch. Tiny veins crisscrossed its wings.
“And dragonflies are much older than the dragons in your books. Scientists have found fossils of dragonflies more than 300 million years old.” Grandma rested her paddle in front of her and spread her hands apart. “They were much bigger back then too with wings two feet long.”
“Wow!” Ian drew in his breath. “Almost like a real dragon.”
The dragonfly clung to the kayak as the current pulled the boat along. Grandma navigated around rocks.
“Looks like Dragon Hunter wants to come with us.” Ian’s paddle sliced through the water. Drops sprinkled onto the kayak and the dragonfly took flight. It skimmed over the rippling river.
“Goodbye, Dragon Hunter,” Ian said.
The river tugged them around a bend. A cloud of delicate blue and green insects flew beneath a cedar. Ian blinked. “Are those dragonflies too?”
“Nope,” Grandma said. “Those are damselflies, the noble ladies and lords of our kingdom.”
The kayak drifted beneath the tree and the cloud of damselflies broke apart. A turquoise damselfly rested on a branch in front of Ian. He drew in his breath and grew very still.
“Are they called damselflies because they’re smaller than dragonflies?” Ian whispered.
“That’s right,” Grandma said. “And damselflies are slower than dragonflies.”
The river narrowed as they continued. Dense trees blocked out the sun. The temperature dropped, and Ian snuggled into his jacket.
Grandma steered the kayak around a log. They brushed against ferns. On a spiky leaf sat a damselfly with an emerald body and velvety black wings.
“It’s so beautiful.” Ian pointed at the damselfly. “This must be an enchanted forest.”
“That’s an Ebony Jewelwing,” Grandma said. “It’s one of the bigger damselflies. And you’re right—it is magical.”
“Why isn’t it moving?” Ian asked.
“It might be too cold,” Grandma said. “It’ll fly again once it warms up.”
Ian took a stroke with his paddle. The water sloshed onto the shore. It covered the fern, and the damselfly tumbled into the river.
“Oh no!” Ian scooped up the damselfly and placed it on the cockpit. “Hurry, let’s get back to the sun.”
Grandma turned the kayak around. They soon left the canopy of trees. The sun warmed Ian’s hands and cheeks.
The damselfly’s wings pulsed. It fluttered to the bank and landed on a white birch.
“Well done, Sir Ian,” Grandma said. “You saved a damselfly in distress.”
Ian smiled. He felt like a real knight, the hero of his watery kingdom.
the end.
Question Time:
- Who did Ian pretend to be?
- What did they see while kayaking?
- What are the differences between dragonflies and damselflies?
- How did Ian help the damselfly in distress?
