Last night, just after sunset, while the sky was still light and blue, we sat down in the middle of our driveway and watched a group of swallows, accompanied by at least a dozen dragonflies, dash and dive across the sky.

The swallows, their wings catching the last golden light, burst from openings in the trees like fireworks. We whipped our heads around, never quite sure where the next one would appear or where it would dart off to. The dragonflies—harder to follow with their transparent wings and slender bodies—filled every quiet space with their own aerial acrobatics.

I imagine they were feasting on the clouds of gnats that seem to have sprung up overnight here in New Jersey. But the logic of that was lost on our kids.

They kept calling it the show.

"I can't believe they came here."

For a few minutes, the swallows weren't hunting and the dragonflies weren't chasing insects. They were aerial performers, here to entertain us with their prowess and agility.

Instead of rushing in for baths and bedtime, we all savored tonight's "five more minutes" to watch the show.

This photo doesn't do it justice. I didn't have my camera. The dragonflies were too small, and the birds were too fast for my husband's phone to catch. Some performances are meant to be watched with our own eyes, not photographed on an iPhone.