Last Saturday, a big dragonfly fell among our bogu. I realise it couldn't fly because its right wings and feet were tangled up in some sticky clump of dust and web, and as my kendo mate held it by the tail, I gently took away the sticky clump, after which we set it free and it flew high up again.
Then last Wednesday, I arrived at kendo practice a bit late, and they were all doing waza already by the time I was taking out my bogu and stuff, and then right there, next to where my bag rested, was another dragonfly, slightly smaller than the one we found last Saturday, and this time, it was just on the floor and could hardly move, because both wings were webbed with sticky dust, and its feet had an even thicker clump. I took the clumps away and up it flew.
The illustration above was born from these recent incidents, mixed with all the thoughts I had and emotions I felt, with each of about the hundred times I listened to Wings.