Return of the fireflies
The fireflies are back.
My desk faces a window. On summer nights, fireflies seem to be attracted to the light in my writing office, or maybe the lights on the computer.
They crawl up the window screen, blinking. So far, my computer has not responded with a pledge of undying love; it has not run off to raise a new batch of fireflies. (My computer must be known in the firefly world as Hard to Get.)
I was sitting here thinking Serious Writerly Thoughts* and then I was distracted by this green light winking at me, and now I'm celebrating another milestone that marks the cycle of the seasons. It's firefly time again, time for those faery-like lights on the lawn. It's summer, my favorite time of year.
*Like, "What should I blog about?" and, "Should I have potato chips tonight?"
My desk faces a window. On summer nights, fireflies seem to be attracted to the light in my writing office, or maybe the lights on the computer.
They crawl up the window screen, blinking. So far, my computer has not responded with a pledge of undying love; it has not run off to raise a new batch of fireflies. (My computer must be known in the firefly world as Hard to Get.)
I was sitting here thinking Serious Writerly Thoughts* and then I was distracted by this green light winking at me, and now I'm celebrating another milestone that marks the cycle of the seasons. It's firefly time again, time for those faery-like lights on the lawn. It's summer, my favorite time of year.
*Like, "What should I blog about?" and, "Should I have potato chips tonight?"
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