The rain keeps falling here, a steady patter against the roof, a damp dripping in the eaves. The downpour sloshes against the pool--it's threatening to overflow. The ground is saturated and water pools in gullies, creeks and ditches. Fields of early corn look like lakes today, reflecting a sky heavy with clouds. The slight shift in the rhythm woke me up last night--quicker and harder--followed by the grumble of thunder in the distance.
Barefoot, I stepped across Lego-strewn carpets and smooth tile floors on my way to check open windows throughout the house. Then I paused by the back screen door to admire the lightning flashing in the dark sky. The sound of frogs came to me and my eyes adjusted after a bright flash to spot a twinkle against the shadow of willows and tall grasses at the edge of our back yard. I blinked and stared into the woods, wondering what I'd seen.
There it was again--a pinprick of a light in the distance. The glow of an animal's eye, a fox's perhaps? Or the remnant glitter of a lightning strike? Slowly but surely more tiny lights appeared, hovering and blinking at varying heights. I focused on one glowing beacon floating past and then another to make certain. Fireflies!
I'd seen the first ones of summer and imagined them hatching out a day or two ago, hundreds of them searching for love on this rainy night.
It's been muggy and hot. Sweaty back of the neck hot. Damp clothes clinging to skin hot. Wait until dusk to get your chores done hot. A perfect week for growing plants and I swear you can watch the tomato and bean plants get taller if you sit still enough. After being trapped indoors and beneath layers of clothing all winter, I lovelovelove this kind of sticky heat.
Plus, summertime brings magical moments like seeing the first fireflies of the season.