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Fireflies
By Sara Wadington
The day had been terribly hot. My dog Harry took refuge
in the tub filled with cold water for most of the day,
only to get out once in a while to run around the house
with me chasing after him with a towel, yelling;
Wait!! Let me dry you off! Not on the bed!!
No!!!
I sat there in front of the fan waiting for the sun to go
down bringing with it the cooler evening air. At dusk we
headed out into the yard. It was wonderfully cooler, and
the stars were just coming out -- a perfect summer
evening. Suddenly I noticed the fireflies for the first
time this season.
They had come out in full force. They were all over the
place, more than I had seen in years. I stared out across
the yard, mesmerized by the blinking lights flying all
around. I suddenly remembered years ago as a child the
same feeling I had now. I allowed myself to believe in
the magic that seemed so real back then. Hanging out with
my first best friend Richy, in the cool of the evening
watching the fireflies and making up stories about them.
We used to catch some to put into jars. We would put
holes in the lids so they could get air, and then would
bring them into our rooms to watch at night as we fell
asleep.
We would also love to taunt the thunderstorms from the
safety of my garage. If it was just a little lightening
strike, we would yell, Come on, you can do better
than that, what kind of wimpy little storm are you?
Until the big strike, which would be first followed by
screams, and then cheers of There you go!
Thats more like it!
He used to be little Richy; I was a year older and a lot
taller. But we had so much fun together. I was a tomboy
at the time, my hair was very short and I was often
mistaken for a boy. Which was cool with me. I liked
riding bikes, and playing baseball. Being a little boy
was so much more fun. Dolls were not my thing at all. I
hated sitting inside on a lovely summer day playing house
with the girls. I liked to play Star Trek. Richy was the
captain, and I was Spock, and the apple tree was the
Enterprise. Various other neighborhood kids would join
in, and in our collective imaginations we had some
wondrous adventures.
Well, as we grew up we grew apart, he went to the right,
and I went to the left. But a few years ago, some
twenty-five years later, I ran into little Richy in the
grocery store. He was about a foot taller than me, and
ever so handsome. I was standing there in shock as I
looked up at him! We talked for a little bit, he told me
he was a lawyer now, and married. Very good for
you, I said.
So here I sit, in my yard, watching my dog watching the
fireflies. He caught one just once, and shook his head in
disgust. Hes never gone after them since because
they must taste real bad. I know what makes them flash
now. My husband, also a Richard, (funny, Im even a
bit taller than him) is my best friend now. He explained
to me how fireflies light up, but its all so
technical. I prefer to think it's magic as I watch them
twinkle in the twilight of an enchanted summer evening.
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