Welcome to the Celebrations Blog Hop.
It is a good way to pause, take stock, and see that your world is actually a fairly nice place to live. A time to focus on the small things that you tend to overlook.
Today I am celebrating fireflies.
I just stepped outside holding a leash which had, on its other end, a three-month old puppy named Chester. Night had fallen, but a glow remained to the west. The moon rode high in the sky, still bright from the vanished sun. A breeze, still carrying a touch of early spring coolness, stirred my hair. Chester was snuffling in the grass and deciding whether he wished to ‘do his business’ or just sniff the wind.
Chester’s preoccupation with sniffing the wind was a good thing, I thought, savoring the scent of still-tender grass and flowers. It was a perfect evening, the stars beginning to glitter in the sky’s zenith, mirroring the fireflies that sparkled below them.
I had forgotten fireflies. I forget them every year only to remember them in the spring with a sense of finding an old friend that I had once thought lost.
I remember driving through a summer night heading toward my grandparents’ house in rural Vermont, seeing the woods so alive with the pale light of fireflies, they seemed to be full of tiny fireworks. The woods were a sea of flickering light, and if I looked up into the sky I could see them trailing upward.
My father liked to watch the fireflies with us… Like any child, I tried putting them in jars as night lights. I stopped after perhaps the third time. They always died, and they were so beautiful and so harmless, how could I put them somewhere that they could die? Later, I learned more about them:
For example, male fireflies flash in flight, seeking females while females return the males’ flashes from the ground on the on vegetation. Well, that may be the case. Propagation of the species is always important, but as the years pass I become more convinced that things are often done because they are enjoyable. The glitter of fireflies is a joyous sight for me, and I would not be surprised to learn sometime,, somehow, that fireflies enjoy flying and flickering.
If you are in Florida during firefly season, you can visit a park that features them:
,,,and do visit Lexa Cain and her two delightful co-hosts L.G. Keltner @ Writing Off The Edge and Tonja Drecker @ Kidbits,
What lovely gifs! I remember catching fireflies when I was young. We lived in SC. Now I am in upstate NY and I'm not sure if we have them. I don't recall seeing them and the sun sets so late this time of year (almost 9:30 pm, if you can believe it) that my kids are getting ready for bed before dusk.
I love your gifs! I remember fireflies with the same joy as you. I lived about 8 years in Mass and there were always a lot there in the summer. None in the other places I've lived though. I miss them…
I love fireflies. I've only seen them a few times, but they're magical.I used to know a Chesapeake named Chester. Give your an extra pat for me.
We don't get fireflies down here in NZ, but I've always loved the idea of them, and the way they look. What a wonderful thing to celebrate, Diana!
How was the cat show, BTW?
Thank you, Tamara – Well, they did have them in Vermont, so I imagine Upstate NY has them, as well. Though I haven't gone farther north there than the fingerlakes region. I would think tucking kids into bed has its own special joys…
There's always something you miss. I missed those huge clouds rolling across the New Mexico sky when I moved to Hawaii (!). If you will believe it, I'd forgotten about fireflies until just before I posted that. It was fun to remember them.
Chester's been patted, hard to do while he is still teething. One of those things you forget when they're over with. I pity nursing mothers! Fireflies certainly ARE magical.
With all the beauties of New Zealand (that I have read of over the years as someone who has longed to visit) I don't suppose fireflies would be missed. For myself, I really want to see the South Island…and the Southern Cross.
Hi again, Beth – Well, he whomped all the other cats in his breed. Not bad for a twelve-year-old great-grandfather. And he enjoyed himself and was charming to everyone who stopped by. The big mush!
Good for him. He must be a very special cat, as well as beautiful. My sister-in-law's cats turn into ghosts when we visit. I see glimpses peering from around corners. Congratulations on another win.