- Books, Literature, and Writing
Fireflies: Summer Magic
Long, svelte fingers of fiery crimson and muted gold fused like molten lava on the horizon. Like fresh paint running from a canvas, colors fused and mingled, golden tones blending and swirling. The colors dripped slowly to the earth until the horizon became a thin, golden line. Bright pigments, rich with color, gradually gave way to more obscure, slightly chromatic shades, slowly slipping further behind the indigo curtain of twilight. The bruised and battered sky gave up its secrets, subtly revealing the last vestiges of purples and blues in soft, hushed tones of embattlement and charcoal. Small, bright contrasting pinpoints of light began to appear, scattered sparsely across the nebulous sky, like softly spattered paint.
Tiny fingers reached up and grasped the grizzled hand of an old man. She looked up at him as an innocent smile played upon her lips. The old man reached down, grasping her hand with tenderness and care, such fragility and affection in his gaze. His eyes were warm and inviting. His smile spoke volumes.
As they stepped off the back porch and into the black of night, her little heart raced with anticipation. If ever there was a night for magic, this was it. She looked around excitedly into the darkness, her tiny frame almost lost in the darkness. He took a few steps with her and turned first one way and then another. They walked over to an old log at the edge of an open field and sat down. Overlooking the field, he began to recount stories of many summers before. Her eyes widened with wonder and awe, as she stared into her grandfather's eyes.
Then, it happened. First, there was just a small pinprick of light, and then a flash. She drew a breath in. One, two, then more... All of a sudden the whole backyard lit up with soft flashes of light. They seemed to beacon as a lighthouse, pulsing from the air. Her grandfather leaned over and whispered in her ear. He smiled affectionately at her, and as the night sky came alive around them, he couldn't take his eyes off her wide eyed expression. Her smile alone lit up the night sky more than these many flashes of light ever could.
Here they sat, two souls under a curtain of darkness, and here on earth, past distant moons and volatile suns, past fiery comets and amidst planets tucked behind many constellations, here existed myriads of little creatures, here and nowhere else in this universe... barely as big as a pin prick, arranging themselves in glowing patterns of light... with no help of outside light sources, no storehouses of energy, no electric power plants or reflections of light, but simply glowing from within, as if the stars themselves had fallen from the skies and lay in bright splendor, twinkling here on earth.
Some of the fireflies, having newly found their wings, arose lazily from their leafy beds and flew away, like shooting stars streaming in slow motion.
No night sky was ever more lovely than this night sky, here today, right here, right now. It was a night this little girl would never forget. Neither would her grandfather. It was pure magic. This was summer magic!
The fireflies lit up the night sky the same way a child lights up from within. Carefree and innocent, young and unmarred, there are no scars, no burdens to bear, just innocence and light. There is wonder and there is awe. Then, slowly, over time, the lights fade, and the glow becomes a distant memory.
We are here for just a little while.
Stepping back into this house again, after so many years, was like stepping back in time.
She walked down the long hallway, past an echo, somewhere between a memory and a dream. She stopped about halfway down the hallway and turned to her right. Slate colored eyes looked back at her. Beside the mirror, an old photograph hung on the wall, slightly tattered and worn. A little girl, an old man, a small hand held in an embrace... a moment captured in time forever. Smiles adorned the faces in the picture, as they peered into a beautiful night sky, lit up with light, with life, with hope and promise, with the magic of the light only fireflies can give.
A thoughtful reflective smile came to her lips as she remembered. Her eyes clouded over somberly, yet joyfully, as she glanced down the hallway, past the kitchen, and towards the back door. That door once loomed so large, and yet now, seemed so small to her. She stood at the entrance. There was a slight creak as the door stubbornly refused to open. Then, slowly, the knob turned. Outside the door, trees shape shifted in the fading light and shadows.
She paused, but only for a moment, hesitating ever so slightly in the darkness. Then, she stepped down the walkway and into the field at the edge of the yard. As she meandered through the field, glancing to her right, she saw a weathered, old log, almost hidden in the leaves. She walked over and brushing the leaves aside, sat down on the edge of the log, as if going back in time, her own little time machine.
Fire In The Sky
If you love fireflies, you will love this. For a beautifully written and wonderfully introspective look from the perspective of a firefly, please check out this link:
Also, another wonderfully creative poem with vivid imagery about fireflies can be found here:
Don't miss these wonderful creations from fellow Hubbers, and let me know of any more interesting hubs on fireflies!
Silence filled the air around her and for a few moments, the quiet was deafening. The darkness engulfed her and became too loud to bear.
Then, it happened. One, two, three... then a multitude. Flash! Flash! Pulse, pulse, FLASH!
First, there were just a few pulses of light... then more and more until the entire sky was lit up in flashes of yellowish green. She stood up from the log and walked into the field, surrounding herself in the silvery yellow glow, immersing herself completely in the magic of the summer sky. The night came alive around her, with flashes of light here, there, everywhere. Muted green and yellow, like little strobes in the night.
She closed her eyes and she smiled, an image of an old man and a little girl played like an old reel in her head, like some old, forgotten movie with erratic movements slightly obscured in the frames.
“Like the waves of the sea, like the fireflies in the sky, I will always return to you, be part of you.”
His words, uttered so long ago, seemed to echo in the fair summer breeze.
She closed her eyes, turned around and around, and held her hands up to the sky, as if to touch the tiny pinpricks of light. When she opened her eyes, the fireflies surrounded her and she was five years old again, watching them for the first time, lost in the awe and wonder of it all, lost once again in the fields of pulsing gold.
At times, she was convinced that she could still feel her grandfather's hand in hers. All she had to do was to close her eyes and he was there with her, once again. A flash in the night, a pulse of gold, and he was once again by her side. She remembered his words to her that night and she knew he would always live on in the summer magic.
He would always glow inside her heart, and light her from within, the same way these little creatures lit up the night sky and brought back pure summer magic, so dependably, year after year.