To me, I could always tell Summer was creeping up when I saw fireflies. I would get so excited at the site of the first one. My sister and I would run around the yard, trying to catch them, and then either put them into a jar or empty milk jug or let them go. Jessica used to make her fingers glow by pinching off their abdomen. After I learned that this lead to sudden death, I was quite sad and would yell at her when she did it.
The other night while racing to cut the grass before it got too dark and as quickly as possible so not to disturb the diners at the bar across the street, there, in the middle of Baltimore, I saw the flashing of my first summer firefly. I was so surprised and so ecstatic that I was going to be able to see fireflies this summer, since I had convinced myelf fireflies are only for the suburbs. After this winter's snowpocalypse I promised myself I would not complain about how hot the summer got. So I say, bring on the summer, the heat, the picnics, the BBQs, the sunshine, and the night time critters that help me remeber the simple joys of a cool summer evening.
For now, I will stick with my mock fireflies in a jar; not causing any more casualties. I bought this at Klaradal, the Swedish antique shop in Olney. How cute!
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