Thursday, June 07, 2007
Last night D.H. (Dear Husband) and I sat on our back porch and watched the water in our small lake ripple as the fireflies came out. We then noticed the silhouettes of three deer in the moonlight munching grass in a neighbor's backyard. I sighed deeply several times and silently gave thanks to God once again for moving us to this beautiful small rural valley.
Something of the joy I experienced in my youth returned to me. Back then there was much porch-sitting in the cool of the evening. My grandmother was usually shelling peas or cracking pecans. The rest of us sat quietly, talking little, just enjoying being together and watching nature's unfolding beauty as the sky turned various shades of dark. The best part was when the fireflies would appear and randomly light up, as if by magic. They were so plentiful back then, we kids would run around catching them and filling Mason jars.
Fast forward several years and they seemed to have disappeared. D.H. and I often talked about why we didn't see them anymore. They seemed to have become extinct, at least in our part of the world. He blamed fire ants. After hearing about someone buying ladybugs online, I thought about searching the Internet to see if they were available for sale anywhere. But I never did, and now I don't have to.
Twice lately we have walked to the back of our community at dark, flashlight in hand. There, where the cultivated property ends at a creek on one side and a ranch on the other, hundreds of fireflies on the dark hill beyond stand out against dark cedar and live oaks, twinkling like tiny Christmas lights, randomly blinking.
D.H. just read an article in the newspaper that in another part of the world - and only in that one place - there are fireflies that blink all at the same time. Everywhere else they blink randomly: here one and there another, all darting around leaving a light trail behind.
I've always liked watching lush darkness fall upon the waiting world but, without the fireflies of my youth, the joy hasn't been there ... until now. Sigh. Thank you, Lord!
Photo by Christine Wainwright
Thanks for the memory. :) And thanks for the lovely comment you left on my blog yesterday.
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