The other morning, I saved two embarrassed dragonflies from spending a long day with their wings half-submerged in a pool of water. At least I imagine, if dragonflies had feelings and those feelings developed through evolution to be similar to human feelings, that embarrassment was what they felt.
They were stuck in the water. Only a quarter of an inch deep. But enough to make life incredibly annoying as they couldn’t escape the pool. I’m one-hundred percent certain they were engaged in sexual escapades before things went horribly awry and the male nose-dived them into the water.
“Oh, good job, Larry. How are we supposed to get out of this mess?!? This is THE last time I take mating advice from my friends. You idiot.”
Dragonfly sex is like that. Chaotic and messy.
In witnessing these downed dragonflies and noting their position, I’m confident the female was in front. Anytime she would start to move, the male would flap his wings wildly to try to catch up to her. I’m sure if he was the last one in, this would have all made for a lovely story for their grandchildren.
Often, in Herradura, I would see dragonflies mating in mid-flight. The first time I saw them mating, I didn’t know what was going on until I got back home and did a little googling.
Humans have it so much worse with sex. For us, sex is so entirely tangled up in emotions of complete weirdness guided by social mores. In fact, it’s so bad that politics, religion, and morality have all jumped into bed with us. Meanwhile, dragonflies are having sex like coked-up bunnies in the mountains of Costa Rica without a care in the world.
We’re such weird creatures.