I love to reminisce. It makes me want to write and explore the memory that just popped into my head. It’s like having my own personal, private holodeck where I can escape and spend time. This is what it’s like inside…
I can feel the air now, oven-warm and thick. Moist and still. Not a hint of a breeze. The light sky is fading into evening and we are waiting. Anticipating. We, my husband and I, rushed over to this special place we discovered, I’ve forgotten how or when we discovered it. But it is the best place, maybe in the world, at least in our world, to be rewarded for patience.
Soon the din of crickets becomes louder, more noticeable. It started earlier I’m sure, but I was not ready to hear it. Now, as we settle in for what’s to come, all my senses are on tingle mode and I hear, see and feel in a special way.
We wait, no other people or cars are near. Not far away people drive by the turn-off to this spot and no one seems to care that in a moment, a glorious resurrection will occur. From the old, very old musty ground of this place, hundreds of fireflies will rise, slowly, and leave their calligraphy in the night sky. It is such a pleasure to our eyes. Like a feast laid before the hungry. Slow moving glitter, they leave sparkles across the dark.
We sit and watch. We don’t speak, no dialog needed, I only ooo and ahhh. I take a video in my mind so I can replay it at will, since I know our time living here is growing shorter.
We moved from that part of the world and our new home has no fireflies at night. Growing up we called them lightning bugs. We ran around trying to catch them, like chasing slow-moving stars, and we ended our nights covered with chigger and mosquito bites. The fireflies were a visual treat for us, and we were a feast for the nocturnal blood suckers.
Many things I don’t miss about that geographical region with the black blue skies lit by insects and distant electrical storms. But a few things come back to visit in my happy memories. Memories where a midnight blue sky rimmed by old-growth trees and carpeted with ancient mossy grasses, comes alive with floating sparks of light. In my mind’s eye it’s a primordial Garden of Eden, but at night, while Adam and Eve are dozing and tiny bugs are scripting the night sky.
Have you ever seen fireflies? Did you chase them when you were a child? Do you remember the smell left on your cupped hands if you captured one?