Focus
"How you gonna make your way in the world,
when you weren't cut out for workin?
And you just can't concentrate?"
Warren Zevon

I'm on the phone. It's an important call--they all are, for one reason or another. I'm talking and taking notes when I notice, in the harbor behind me, movement on the water. It's out of the corner of my eye, ripples on the otherwise smooth water, gun metal blue this time in the afternoon.

The talking continues but I'm looking now and seeing a dragonfly struggle in the water, sending out ever-widening circles of distress from its fluttering, complex, and apparently non-working wings. It's movement is better than any lure I've ever used: sputtering like a child's windup toy. It is the perfect advertisement for a hungry fish. I don't know who to root for, the dragonfly to free himself from the watery clutches, or a fish to get an insect meal. I decide to stay neutral and just watch. I'll be Switzerland in this life and death struggle.

There are hundreds of people in this building overlooking the harbor. I wonder if anyone else is watching right now, or even if they would give it a second thought. I can't abandon this drama now that I've noticed it.

The conversation continues. People and their problems. I'm taking notes again and asking questions. The fluttering is continuing and the dragonfly is actually moving in the water, either from current, wind, or its own efforts. The ripples continue intermittent, like Morse Code on the water. Is the dragonfly trying to save his strength or is he getting nervous about making so much commotion? I expect any moment to see a swirl, splash, and disappearance of the insect, like what I imagine while pulling in a lure out on the flats; I'm expecting (hoping) for the tug at the other end, the acknowledgement of another life force.

Something gets said that captures my attention. I turn automatically to the notepad, scribble it down and ask a follow-up question to flesh it out. Details, details, details, that's what's important. Everyone gets the big picture, but who sees the reflection in the glass?

I hang up the phone. I look out over the harbor. No ripples, no dragonfly.

I go back to work.