Magic

I was born and raised in California...which explains a lot. I had a wonderful, carefree childhood, running free in the neighborhood and the hay field across the street. My brothers and I spent countless hours outside till the streetlights came on and then sat on the front porch until were called in for baths and bed. Summers were always special. But it wasn't until I was 25 years old and had moved from California to the east coast that I discovered the magic of fireflies. I can vividly remember the first time I saw them. We were walking on the parade field at Ft. Belvoir,VA. As darkness fell the field became a fairyland of sparking white lights. Blinking lights, moving lights. Magic.




I remember thinking that Disney had got it right. Before this I had been only exposed to the twinkling white lights in the trees at Disneyland and the moving faux fireflies while we rode through the Pirates of the Carribean. But this was the real deal. Magic. One of God's little gifts. Who can watch these flashing little bugs and not feel happy? It's been more than 25 years since that night in Virginia. Since then we have moved many times. Sometimes to places without the magic. They are here. They start showing up in June and will hang around for a couple of months.

Rufus and I took a late night walk tonight.
As we walked darkness fell and the show began. First just one or two, then more and more. In the dark under the trees and shrubs blinking for each other. I hope I will always feel the magic of fireflies, the gift of summer.
California may have great weather and great summers...but they don't have fireflies.