Fireflies and Keeping Hope Alight
The Cover Doesn't Always Tell the Story
When I was about eight-years-old my parents loaded me, my little brother, our red and white dog, Rebel, the green and white Coleman ice chest I still have to this day, and a whole lot of junk food and clothes into a red Ford station wagon and set out from the foothills of Washington state bound for Oklahoma. It would be the first time I’d met any of my relatives because, approximately ten years earlier, my mom had left her first husband (my uncle) for his younger brother (my dad).* So, they literally had to get outta Dodge (AKA Oklahoma).
The trip was a grand adventure packed with cherished memories, but for me, above all others, were the fireflies. I was instantly enchanted. Each evening, I waited with great anticipation for the dark to flow in and the glowing pops and streaks to emerge. The magical, slow-moving beings were so plentiful we could catch them in our hands or even in a large jar for up close wonderment.
Twenty-seven years later I was camped in a screen tent in Smokey Mountain National Park. Fireflies danced up and down the screen like strings of fluid, blinking Christmas lights. I tried not to fall asleep so that I could stay with them as long as possible.
Twenty-one years after, in 2023, I was back in Oklahoma to clear out my mom’s home and get it prepped to sell. There were virtually no fireflies. Pesticides and light pollution have decimated firefly populations across the globe. That trip dealing with family affairs was emotional and unpleasant, but the most crushing blow was personally witnessing the absence of enchanting beings from the very place I had first encountered them. The world felt diminished.
Fireflies are extraordinary. Also known as lightning bugs, they are beetles in the Lampyridae family that produce light through bioluminescence, a chemical reaction in their abdomen. This light is primarily used for attracting mates but also to lure prey and stave off predators. Fireflies spend most of their life as larvae, often referred to as glowworms, underground voraciously feeding off snails, slugs and worms. After up to two years, the larvae pupate and days later an adult firefly emerges.
Female fireflies are typically flightless. Flying males flash their “lanterns” in elaborate displays hoping to attract a receptive female who is flashing her own signal from the ground below. They live in glowing fly form for approximately two months before laying eggs and dying.
As I write I am perched in my little travel trailer at Unity Village in Missouri. I serve on the Board of Trustees of Unity Worldwide Ministries and this week was the Unity People’s Convention and Board meetings. Instead of flying, I decided to drive from my home in Central Oregon, pulling my small trailer. My Border Collie, Olive, and I did a couple of dog agility competitions on the way to the Village.
The RV site at Unity Village is located on the edge of campus next to large fields and oak trees. Within moments of arriving, as dusk was settling in, tiny lights began flashing in the grasses and dancing across the sky. I was overjoyed!
Each of the five days we’ve been here, I’ve anticipated dusk and gleefully and gratefully welcomed my magical friends. My life partner John flew in a couple days ago and last night we celebrated summer solstice sitting out in the dark at forest’s edge, reveling in a glorious living light show.
My spiritual path is eclectic and could probably best be described as New Thought paganism. I have an animistic aspect to my faith and believe all creatures are spiritual beings having some sort of specific species experience at this time. All are sacred, of inherent worth. We are interconnected and can learn from one another.
Some indigenous traditions hold that our fellow species have wisdom to share, called “medicine”. Firefly medicine is associated with wonder and illumination. While flashy and spectacular at night, their daytime appearance is rather bland offering a reminder that what’s inside matters more than outward appearance. A loving heart and clear mind is more important than small flaws. Fireflies show that even amidst the darkness, there is a glow of hope and joy.
Thank you little brothers and sisters for shining your light and being utterly delightful just by being you.
Here are a couple extra vids of the amazingness:
Summer Solstice, 9:42pm June 20, light show in the forest’s edge:
Starting to spark as dusk arrives:
* My mom had excellent reasons for leaving her first husband but, given my dad’s tendencies it could be argued, in Okie terms, she jumped out of the fryin’ pan into the fire with that move. Ha ha! Mom’s a tough cookie.
Speaking of Judging Not by Appearances Alone – Travel Log
John, Olive, and I are now working (playing) our way West visiting wildlife reserves, conservation programs, and other natural and archeological wonders. This is our very first RV trip in the tiny trailer I’ve named Tortie (short for Tortuga which in Spanish means turtle or tortoise). I had some concerns going in because it is a very small trailer but I needn’t have. We are having a blast. There is more room than I realized and after a slightly rough first night we got the sleeping area reorganized and sleep is sound now for all three.
On the second morning we set out from High Plains RV park in Oakley KS. Surprising even to me this was my second time at this park this year because Olive and I had stayed there on the way to the agility nationals competition in March. I’ve only had the trailer for about six months and have so far stayed in half a dozen RV parks. High Plains is my favorite to date because it’s quiet, has nice, clean restroom facilities, and is surrounded by a large field area that’s perfect for Olive to stretch her legs and do her potty business.
Around noon we stopped in Goodland KS for lunch. Goodland has a population of about 4,500. Given that I was raised on mostly fried, hardly healthful, Midwest “cuisine” I wasn’t expecting too much. We thought the rather plain looking Mom’s Kitchen diner was likely to be as good as anything we saw listed.
Talk about an unexpected treasure! It’s a definite “mom and pop” affair owned and operated by Terry and Roberta Webb. The little pace was aglow with a warm “welcome” vibe. Terry greeted us warmly even as he served food and bantered with obvious locals.
The menu was a treat of simplicity coupled with diversity. Yes, there were classics like hushpuppies, biscuits and gravy, and fried pork rinds, but there was also an unexpected array of vegetarian options. While taking our order Terry talked about how some of the dishes could be prepared vegan. I was surprised and Terry explained that their daughter had health issues that had opened them up to plant-based foods.
John and I both ordered the black bean burger with a side salad. While waiting for the meal I went out and rewarded Olive’s patience with long trips by playing fetch, having her do some tricks, and giving her a long lap of water. When I popped back inside I noticed a dish on the counter and asked, “Is that apple crisp?” It was! One of my favorites. I hadn’t had homemade apple crisp in a decade.
The burger was delicious and hearty and the salad, far from being a pile of iceberg lettuce, was made of nutritious greens, sweet peppers and tomato.
Terry chatted with each of the diners including us and when he learned we were travelling through he delivered a two-page sheet listing cool things to see in Kansas.
When we splurged and ordered the apple crisp Terry mentioned the frozen ice cream tarts his wife had just made. We ordered a peach tart as well. Ahhh, the crisp was actually crisp and the little frozen tart was delicate and delicious.
The walls of the diner were festooned with artworks and posters with statements like, “We can complain because roses have thorns or rejoice because thorns have roses’, and, “This is a place where friends become family.”
Mom’s Kitchen delivers delicious, made-from-the-heart food and authentic, easy hospitality. I wish we had a Mom’s in Oregon!
I find fireflies fascinating. But I'm not finding it fascinating at all, the absence of fireflies in the city where I live, Akure. I keep on asking,"Where are the fireflies?"