Summer days here can be ordinary. Hot, humid, sunny, bird-chirping and wonderfully ordinary. But when the sun begins to set, and the shadows start creeping out from the woods and under the trees, that’s when the magic begins.
It starts with just a sparkle or two. A flash here and a flash there, in unexpected places. And then, as if set off by some silent signal, the night seems to explode into sparkles and flickers. For as far as eye can see, there are magical little lights blinking in a show that lasts until the early hours of the morning.
And then, as the sun begins to creep towards the horizons, the sparkles begin to fade. The birds begin to sing again and the magic is over for another night.
I could live here fifty years and never get tired of these summer nights. And if I ever move away, the thing I’ll carry with me from the days I’ve spent here are the sparkles of the fireflies just after the sunsets.
This video was taken by someone who was privileged to watch the synchronized fireflies in the smoky mountains a few hours from here. While ours are more individual flickers, the magical feeling I get from watching them is the same as I get when I watch this video.