Life After Fireflies: day 13

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.

We noticed our first fireflies in Effingham, Illinois, as we traveled this past summer all the way from the wilds of our beloved Alaska.  It's difficult leaving behind that rugged grandeur, and moving into tame and civilized society, if you will.  Everyone has their art, and words are mine, but I am at a complete loss to express the emotional impact which has resulted from this transition.  Never would I have guessed that something so tiny, an insect nonetheless, would be such a balm to my soul. 

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.

 

Indeed I felt as though we'd stepped into the scene of a fantastic fairytale, as the entire meadow filled with fireflies, the darkness grew, and the moon rose.  Tiny, tantalizing, fantastical lights blinked all along the ground and high up in the towering tree tops, above the river, near, and far.  Everywhere.  Our eyes gazed and soaked them in.  Each little glow, a continuous show.

We moved into our rental home on the eve of August.  There are yards and a large, grassy field surrounding our home, along with towering, mature trees of various types.  It's a spectacular backdrop for the evening light show.  We strain to see each one, to truly see it, but they light and extinguish, so very quickly.  I want to catch the next one, to be looking right where it begins because the ending will be so instantaneous.  The beauty is too much.  I just cannot soak it in enough.

Through the remainder of summer, I looked forward to dusk every day.
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.  

More posts in this series are available here.