The World: Too Much with Us; Late and Soon

We have returned, obviously, from our annual excursion to the NJ Shore. This one was postponed so long that naturally the weather was just awful the entire time: cold and just POURING rain. We barely could see the ocean through all that mess, let alone don swimsuits (a blessing in disguise, for me at least, in this post-baby mess!) and venture into the ocean. We had one still-very-grey-and-misty-but-non-rainy day, and we all went for a long stroll on the boardwalk. I have decided that I am really a displaced Water Girl at heart. While I love the forests and mountains, LOVE them, something in the ocean really speaks to me (never mind that I am a terrible swimmer and mostly afraid). Water, the sound and sight, calms and soothes me in ways that are always surprising. I also love everything about beach architecture and culture. There is a sense of relaxation that I urgently want to make my own. I find more and more too that this sense of peace comes more from the Atlantic coast, not the Pacific. That, too, is surprising.

Suspended Between Light and Dark

Fireflies in the Garden

Here come real stars to fill the upper skies,
And here on earth come emulating flies,
That though they never equal stars in size,
(And they were never really stars at heart)
Achieve at times a very star-like start.
Only, of course, they can't sustain the part.

—Robert Frost

Car-less for a while last night, so I walked to the grocery store for some stuff for this evening's small holiday festivities. There is one experience each year that always makes me smile, always makes me infinitely happy: seeing the very first fireflies of the season.

Everyone, it seems, has a firefly story that also makes me smile, particularly stories of those who are seeing them for the very first time. They're so common where I'm from, that I always take for granted their existence, forgetting that they don't even exist on the other side of this US landscape.

My welsh friend B., upon seeing fireflies, thought for certain she was hallucinating, for there are no fireflies across The Pond (nor skunks, interestingly). She believed she, and only she, was seeing fairies. No one with her at the time made any mention or seemed to notice at all the flickering flashes of light surrounding them. Both intrigued and terrified by the phenomena, B. told me she was unable to confess to anyone what she'd seen until many weeks later.

E., who is from eastern Washington state, discovered his first fireflies during a family vacation back east. He decided that the western US needed a firefly population, so he captured many many of them inside a glass jar with holes poked in the lid. He and his parents were traveling by train. Not a single poor firefly made it even as far as Glacier National Park. E. was devastated.

I feel sad for people who have not seen them, who don't get to see them annually. they are truly one of the only things i've really missed during the times I've lived out west.

Happy Happy Midsummer!