I just got hit in the face with a dragonfly. Or was it by a dragonfly? Not sure.
It was a normal morning bike ride, freewheeling myself down my favorite slope, wind whirling around me in a happy, happy, happy moment.
When – BAM! – I get hit in the face. Splat between helmet and cheek, on the right side just above where the chinstrap buckles in place. A blur of iridescent purpley blue and then a crinkly, snapping sound like a plastic baseball against a plastic bat.
The thing didn’t knock me off my bike, though it was the size of a dinner plate. But it surprised me for sure.
Funny, I’ve learned to expect the unexpected in most spots in life. The late night call when someone is in a pickle. The delayed flight. The dog throw-up in the same spot on the new rug when I’d just replaced the old rug.
After MUCH practice with the messier side of life, I’ve learned to purse my lips and clamp my tongue in place when such stuff happens. It does little good to wail on and on about the inevitable ugh-y-ness of such moments.