When a dragonfly flutters by, you may not realize, but it's the

Louie Schwartzberg, the master of imagery who has spent his life capturing the wonders of the natural world, once proclaimed: “When a dragonfly flutters by, you may not realize, but it’s the greatest flier in nature. It can hover, fly backwards, even upside down.” At first, these words seem only to marvel at the insect’s grace. Yet beneath them lies a timeless truth about perception, power, and the hidden majesty of creation. The dragonfly, often overlooked, is a miracle of flight, a symbol that greatness may dwell in what appears small and ordinary.

The origin of this quote is found in Schwartzberg’s work as a filmmaker of nature, who has devoted his craft to slowing down the world so that our eyes might finally see what they normally miss. Through his lens, the common becomes extraordinary, and the fleeting becomes eternal. In speaking of the dragonfly, he reminds us that what the eye dismisses as a mere flicker of wings is, in truth, the most masterful performance of aerodynamics on earth. What science now tells us—that dragonflies can hover like helicopters, dart with precision, and even fly backwards—Schwartzberg elevates into poetry, a teaching to awaken our awareness.

Consider history’s love for such symbols. The ancient Egyptians revered the scarab beetle, a creature that rolled its ball of earth with relentless determination, seeing in it the eternal cycle of life, death, and rebirth. To them, even the smallest of beings could embody divine wisdom. So too with the dragonfly: it becomes not just an insect, but a living parable, reminding us that what appears fragile may carry unmatched mastery. The dragonfly, like the scarab, whispers to us that truth is often concealed in the humblest forms.

The meaning is also heroic: to see the dragonfly’s flight is to witness the triumph of adaptability. Where other creatures are bound by forward motion, it can reverse; where others fall in turbulence, it can hover in stillness; where others cling to the ordinary, it dares the impossible—upside down. Here lies a teaching for the soul: greatness is not found in brute force, but in flexibility, agility, and the courage to move where others cannot.

This lesson shines also in human stories. Think of Leonardo da Vinci, who sketched flying machines centuries before their time, inspired by the wings of birds and insects. His genius lay in looking where others did not, in drawing wisdom from the unnoticed. Like Schwartzberg, Leonardo saw the miraculous hidden in nature, and sought to teach mankind that mastery could be learned from the smallest teacher. Just as the dragonfly defies limitation, so Leonardo defied the boundaries of his era, teaching us that vision is the true engine of progress.

Thus, we are called to train our eyes and our hearts. Do not dismiss the ordinary. The flower opening, the bee gathering nectar, the dragonfly dancing in sunlight—all are sermons of creation, speaking of resilience, beauty, and excellence. When you walk through the world, walk not as one who merely passes, but as one who beholds. To see with reverence is to learn with wisdom.

Practically, this means: slow down. Watch. Learn from what is small. When the dragonfly hovers, let it remind you of balance. When it darts backwards, let it teach you that retreat can also be victory. When it dares the impossible flight, let it inspire you to break free from the limitations that bind you. Carry the image of the dragonfly into your own struggles, and remember that mastery often comes not from strength alone, but from grace, adaptability, and awareness.

Thus, Schwartzberg’s words endure as more than admiration for an insect—they are a summons. The dragonfly is the master of the skies, and yet it is silent, fragile, overlooked. So too, many truths of life flutter by unnoticed. But if we learn to see, to honor, to marvel, then we may rise with the same freedom, able to face the winds of life with agility, courage, and wonder. For the greatest fliers in nature are not only in the skies—they are also within us, waiting to be set free.