Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Better Fireflies

Rowen and I won’t tell Wes, but we are agreed: he has the better fireflies (lightening bugs to us).  Last night we drove over at dark to Wes’ place on invitation to come and see the best fireflies.  Wes is right – it is an amazing sight.

Stand in front of the house and stare at the fields all around and it’s like the tall grass is filled with dancing light.  Turn around and see the treed hill with more of the same.

And another thing – the fireflies at Wes’ place are way faster than here in “town” (what folks living out call McDowell, a village of maybe 30 people).  Whatever we did, we just couldn’t catch them – they were just too fast.  So another, unexpected difference develops: country fireflies are faster fliers than their town cousins.  Who knew?

It was a magical night, or as Rowen said, it was more magical.

Running through the grass to starlight, dancing and turning in circles with a soon-to-be 6-year-old, I watch as this beloved of my heart jumps and shrieks his enthusiasm which his little body just cannot contain.

And all is well.

Heading back home, we get the tent out and our night of joy is complete, for this is the first night Rowen will manage to sleep the night in the tent with me.

And the stars smiled.

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