I’m sitting out on the back porch at my grandparents’ house tapping out this post on my work laptop. I can feel the humidity in the air as I breathe in. It makes the streetlights have an eerie glow around them, and the smell of the humid air brings back memories of my childhood in indiana and the hazy summer nights I used to spend outside.

There is a light show going on in the backyard as I take in the night air. The fireflies are sending messages through the darkness. I remember collecting jarfulls of them, poking holes in the lid so they could breathe, and carrying the lanterns of green, glowing bugs around the yard.

It occured to me, as I was sitting out here, that I haven’t seen any fireflies in arizona. Initially I thought that I just don’t notice them, but I’ve spent enough nights out under the stars, and it was such an immediate observation out here, that I have to assume that they just don’t live in the southwest. It’s a little disappointing, but then again, the number of stars which are visible from my backyard in flagstaff form a more static nighttime show which no doubt rivals the dance performed by these tiny bugs.

The only disappointment is the inability to create the same lantern effect from the stars.