Magic

June 21st, just after dusk. They call it the Strawberry Moon. It hung low over the fields as I was driving home. I just had to walk back with my wife so that we could share it. The stars were not quite out yet. Maybe just a few twinkling faintly. The sky still had a tinge of lightness, but the sun was below the western horizon and the red of the sunset was gone. We held hands, walking down to the end of our tree shaded street to look out over an expansive field and see the moon. Low to the horizon, it has the illusion of being larger, and at this moment it had a somewhat orange red tinge from the sunset, now below the curve of the opposite horizon from our view. We crossed the street and stood looking at the moon over the field. It was beautiful. Then we noticed that the stars were not in the sky, they were on the ground. The field was blanketed with constellations of fireflies as far as the eye can see. A few weeks earlier, we had walked out into this field for the first time and found that it was filled with Bobolinks. We had sat in the middle of it for an hour and listened to the bubbly songs as the Bobolinks flew overhead and then settled back down into the tall grass. There were also Eastern Meadowlarks, a few Blue Birds, and Tree Swallows. It was a peaceful, calming experience. Now, we imagined those Bobolinks settled in for the night all across this field. We walked out into the middle of the field in the near darkness until the fireflies were all around us. As we walked in, fireflies further out became visible to us. We walked in until the periphery of visibility of the fireflies came between us and the road. Now we were surrounded. There were fireflies flaring in every square yard as far as the eye could see. The strawberry moon glowed above the horizon. The car sounds had become distant. It was magical. We stood in amazement and soaked in this awe inspiring creation of nature, knowing that it was safe, because it would not be mowed until fall.

—
Nicodemus