Countdown to PA: Day One--Fireflies

Oh the exotic Firefly.  Around here, you are also called Lightning bugs which I think ridiculous.  You are not lightning bugs.  You are lazy little bugs, which every so often glitter your green butts.  You are hard to capture on my camera.  Therefore, I will not post a picture of you tonight. 


Instead, readers will have to wait and see them for themselves.


Seriously, I love fireflies.  They're pretty magical.  They're very Summer. 

The other day, I literally gasped out loud because I saw the first one this season.  It was drunkenly swinging across the grass, glowing sporadically all by its firefly self. 

That's how fireflies come these days, mostly by themselves. Read that line anyway you want, I give you permission. 



Around here, baby boomers tell stories of how the streets were lit with the little buggers.  They were everywhere.  They were easy to catch.  They were easy to catch and squish and then yell at your friends, "hey, look! My fingers are glowing!". 

But now, in our conservationist culture, we refrain from squishing fireflies.  Instead, we sit back and watch them float. 


You can't find fireflies in Seattle.  They don't float that far. 


I bet you can't wait to see them.  We can't wait either.