A six and four year old, a wonder, and a perfect evening helped me remember something vastly important. Neither of them had witnessed the magical phenomenon of the lighting bug (firefly) and they were determined to find out if this actually was true. Unfortunately summer sun sets long after they go to bed, and they made me promise if I saw anything I would wake them; I pinky-swore.
Each night the conditions weren’t right; no magic.
Then a sweltery summer storm began to brew and the air got thick. The little’s had stayed up late, just because. But they were now tucked and kissed and night covered the world in a blanket of dim light and humidity.
Then it happened. From no where came the sparkles of light. Off and on, off and on; hundreds of fireflies. I ran to their bedroom as promised seeing the backs of two babies, in the dark peeking out their window, and as I rushed in we both said together, “They have come!” We ran outside, barefooted, grabbing our jar that had been on stand-by at the back door.
…Then one sat at the bottom behind the glass–a bug, not a cute bug just a flying bug. It would not perform at will.
So we set it free and it landed quite gently on the arm of the four year old and shined it’s light; off and on, off and on, proudly. What joy! The six year old had a turn and the night was perfect. These bugs seemed to know this was their summer job tonight. To prove to two skeptics magic actually was true. We ran and jumped in the dark, together.
Right then I remembered summer is only one time a year. And even though it comes as a season, we have to take it in and honor it, personally. Or it will simply be missed.
I must not ever let running barefoot on a firefly evening go without notice. This is the time for me to stop, pick berries, run through sprinklers, sit outside in the golden hour and feel the breeze as the sun sets,…
It is allowed right this moment.
Only if you let summertime trickle inside.