We
laid our work and burdens down to observe a lightning bug. That meant letting
go the shovel and dishtowel. The prodigal. Naysayer.
We lifted our heads at dusk to glimpse summer’s first golden
wink—the winged beetle’s signal of survival. After several weeks of drought,
the first sight of their bioluminescence surprised us.
Although countless generations of children have trapped them
in canning jars and smeared their tails on their skin for amusement, glowworms
have thrived to mate nonetheless.
Here, there. Everywhere, the language of blinking lights.
They flew in like family to celebrate the longest day of the
year, to allure us with their laser show. They called us to sit and rest—to witness
Nature’s faithfulness and handiwork.
The air was calm without mosquitoes. We lingered upon the
hilltop where the sweep of land and sky grew darker and the twinkling light
brighter. I wished every living thing on our dear planet could sense this sublime
passage of time and season.
For God designed all creatures great and small with a
portion of the firefly’s “glow” element: adenosine triphosphate, the chemical
that converts energy within cells for metabolism.
What a marvelous thought as nightfall enveloped this Summer
Solstice: we’re all born to shine.
It is a matter of heat and humidity for the firefly. Forests,
fields, rivers, ponds, and streams provide the ideal habitat to trigger the
insect’s ATP.
According to firefly.org, the Great Smoky Mountains National
Park and the Allegheny National Park attract a species of firefly that lights
in synchronization. Their performance ranges from mid-May to mid-June for smart
folk who purchase tickets in advance and shuttle into the forest for the sold-out
show.
Sounds like the perfect vacation to me.
And in Southeast Asia, another genus of firefly glows in
mangrove forests year round. Imagine that.
Some species illuminate during all four stages of its life
cycle. I’ll have to find naturalist Terry Lynch, a firefly specialist, and ask
if that species has a higher ATP level than the common lightning bug. And I’d
like more information on treating human diseases with doses of ATP.
Meanwhile, there’s plenty standing water down our road and
tall grasses behind our property for firefly eggs and larvae to propagate. I am
concerned, though, about development’s light and noise pollution creeping up
from south of us.
Mr. Lynch recommends planting pine trees to provide a canopy
of shade and sound barrier that fireflies need to find a mate. Furthermore, in
the future I’ll refrain from raking needles from our white pine cove because
firefly larvae feed on earthworms and other small animals that feed in pine
litter.
For this Appalachian Michigander and her mate, the calm, summertime
twilight is reserved for watching fireflies, the glow of a resilient bug that speaks
of the simple pleasures of childhood.
Dear Reader, in their short lifespan, their love language
reminds me to lay disappointment down and let my light shine.
