I saw something the other evening that I haven't seen in 40 years: lightning bugs.
Some Florida friends who were in town visiting and I were sitting on my screened front porch when one of them shouted, "Hey, look at that!"
My initial reaction was, not another 1970s Impala on 24-inch rims, which my neighborhood seems to be overrun with.
Nope, it was a firefly. We spotted one then another and another. Pretty soon my side yard and the field across the street were thick with them.
This is my fifth summer in South Carolina and I haven't seen them here before. That doesn't mean they weren't around, but I never noticed them. In fact, I had forgotten all about them.
I can remember as a kid in Ohio chasing them around, and sometimes putting them in a jar. But I haven't given them a thought them in decades.
Yet, here they were, nonetheless, in huge numbers well within reach. I resisted the urge to run out in the yard and capture one. The fact that, these days, they may well be able to outrun me had nothing to do with my self discipline; I really just wanted to sit back and admire them.
Lightning bugs. Wow. I guess I'm easily amazed.
I still remember one night in Louisville when my backyard as filled with lightning bugs. It was like my own private light show. Don't want to get too schmaltzy here, but it was the night my younger son was born, which would make it almost 36 years ago.
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