Fireflies At Close of Day

Reader Contribution by Z.D. Brenton
Published on June 27, 2013
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A drowsy-dusk summer sunset crimsons the Ozark landscape with evening hues, washing the day away without remorse. This is my home.

Easy warm-humid, insects buzzing, hovering helicopter wings beating, leaving skin itching throughout one’s dreams.

Fireflies dance exotic constellations across the ever-deepening darkness. Patterns change as they flit here and there; recharging, flickering, no rhyme nor reason — on, off, off, on, on — Tiny torches in need of new batteries. This is the beginning of an Ozark summer.

Careless children capture fragile beads of lights in glass jars, releasing behind locked bedroom doors. Mothers do not want to know! Thank God it’s not a school night.

How can we preserve these fireflies-in-the-palm-of-a-child-in-the-backyard-at-sunset memories for future generations?

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