Now that I know what life is like with fireflies, I will never be able to forget. No matter where I find myself,
for the remainder of my life,
if those dainty beauties are missing,
I will know it,
and miss them.
Our family's first encounter with fireflies was fun and exciting. That's it, just fun. And exciting. We caught them, and made a lantern-of-sorts as a centerpiece for our picnic table supper. And I say "our family's first encounter", because having been born and grown in the Midwest, I've seen them before. But I have never seen them as I see them now.
As we continued south, their numbers increased, and the regularity at which we'd see them. Arriving at our first temporary home in Tennessee, a country campground near a misty river, we began to notice that the fireflies would begin to light at dusk, every evening. Upon camping beside a meadow which separated us from the river, the effect was nothing short of magical.
Through the remainder of summer, I looked forward to dusk every day.
no matter what that day held, the amount of work, the stresses of logistics and the emotional aspects of such a major transition, I looked forward to the upcoming magic of dusk, when I could step out into the backyard and soak in the wonderland. The fireflies became to me in Tennessee, what the mountains are and will forever be to me in Alaska. The beauty of creation of a Loving Father, who cares to delight us with such magnificent details.