Tangerine merging into golden hues was the sunrise mirrored off the calm lake. The smallest of bubbles lifted at the surface and emerged from that was a tiny little nymph. The dun sat atop the water, awaiting its next transformation. It is vulnerable here, fish might see it as a meal, albeit a small one. The cute little colorless winged creature shimmies across the surface to hide in the banks behind and upon stalks of cattails and lush water grass.
The imago reveals itself as it takes flight to land on the tall greenery. It is now a more colorful version of itself. Several hours have passed and the noonday sun warms the shallow waters.
I shall sit and become…. might be the thoughts of this magnificent insect. Whiling the hours, with nothing really to do but wait for another revision of itself, a final becoming. Other creatures skitter across the glinting sheet of lovely drink, oblivious to this little fly awaiting the only thing he lives for. The calm waters produce the mouths of hungry fish, in search of sustenance.
A breeze ripples the reflective blue of the sky. Dusk is upon us, now. Only the final stage remains. It is becoming. The mayfly flutters high then swarms with the many others. The females dive into the fray and copulate, only to drop and imminently dip into the water to attach their eggs. Most often, they succumb to the currents or as a meal. This one, well, he flies away to perch himself on the greenery. Not long now and he will meet his end. A day in the life is the entire life of the mayfly.