Spots of Light

Last night, walking back from the Metro later than usual (I went to see a movie with another intern after work), the sweltering day had slipped into soaking night. The intermittent rain had let up. The trees by the sidewalk merrily pelted passers-by with leftover drops, spurred on by the wandering gusts that blew in no clear direction. The hazy glow of the streetlights cast an unsettling orange over the roadway, giving the few other pedestrians an unhealthy pallor. Above the dark violet clouds shifted uncomfortably, periodically erupting in a pale purple neon as lighting bolts vainly tried to pierce their dense mass. Aside from the growl of passing cars, the walk home promised to be quiet and wet, most sounds muted by blanketing moisture.

I approached the bridge that runs over the bottomland, the flat areas on either side of the creek, just a little ways up the road. The houses gave way to expansive trees overgrown with vines and underbrush. Suddenly, to my right, I noticed a small grass path leading into inky darkness, ivy covered tree limbs arching over the untrampled trail. But that wasn't what caught my attention. No, what had turned my head wasn't the menacing gloom, but rather the hopeful light. Down a little slope, just before the trail disappeared into the tall trees, the tall grass and bushes created a semblance of clearing with the trail carving through it. And there, against the dark backdrop of the trees, and extending into the black, little points of light popped arrythmically. Tiny neon bulbs, an odd blue-green, nipped in and out of existence, never in the same place. I only noticed one or two at first, but as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, the scope of the lights became apparent. Hundreds, if not thousands, of fireflies put on a light show, one part sparkler, one part Chirstmas, and one part winking eyes.

Mesmerized by the sight, I clambered over the low fence, stumbling down the embankment through the brush to the grass trail. Before I knew it, the fireflies had surrounded me. I backed my way haltingly farther down the path, spinning from side to side in a vain attempt to capture some semblance of the entire picture. The farther from the road I traveled, the darker it became, and more spectacular grew the dots of light. A cool flame would erupt near my finger, then as I moved to touch it, a pair would light up just in front of my eyes. Tiny tongues of fire passed behind leaves and blades of grass, congregating around trunks and punctuating the shadows.

I soon realized how far I had gone. No longer in the open brush, I'd wandered deep down my grassy wooded lane. An alternate trail stretch off to the left, barely more than a goat-track, and pitted with ponds, courtesy of the passing storm. The lightning had bested the clouds in its contest and I started at seeing the only glimpse of sky through the rips shatter in the face of a massive, veined bolt. The rumble of thunder seemed to shake the water from the trees, and the chirping of the crickets grew dim. Even the moistness of the air seemed more oppressive. But the fireflies still laughed at me, winking their way aimlessly about. The delight I had felt risked turning to dread as these will-o-the-wisps' smiles became mocking chuckles at the fix I was getting into.

I spun about, quickening my pace. I strode quickly back down the path, soon emerging from the darkness. The lightning approached faster than expected and the crackle, pop, and rumble drew right overhead. The wind's gusts grew more forceful and the clouds sent out scattered warnings of a shower to come. I scrambled up the slope and onto the road, hastening my way home.