It is the summer of 1999 and I am young and I am alive. My sister and I are racing outside now, our bare and naked feet fly across the hardwood floor and onto our tired deck. My prescient mother, resting in a green plastic chair, is already waiting for the two of us to dart into the nightly confines of our very Philadelphian backyard. She’s looking at the pair of us, her smile the starting pistol to an evening of adventure.I’m grabbing a glass jar and tossing one to my younger sister now. Her and I now dash down the few steps of our porch and step onto our playing field. I can see them all, now. The lightning bugs. They dot our lawn like incandescent snowflakes, occasionally lifting off to find a new temporary resting place. I can almost hear the beat of a thousand tiny wings right now. There must be hundreds here. They paint our yard now, never satisfied with their place on the canvas.But this wonder is nothing new to my sister and I. We have done this as far as my memory will stretch. We’re dashing off in different directions now, as to cover the most ground. There isn’t a second to waste, not a moment to spare—I’m not sure how much longer the fireflies will glow for us. Now that I’m over by the big tree at the edge of the lawn, I can begin my work.A particularly gleaming bug is drifting past my eyes right now. I’m going to turn my jar to the side, very carefully now, and… got him. Quickly I’m screwing the lid back on my jar. I eye my twinkling prize. It’s crawling on the side of my jar now, exploring his new home, I’m sure. I can’t think of a name for him quite yet, but there will be time for formalities later. Right now I need to continue the hunt.Bending down now I scoop up a bug at my feet. I’m feeling the minuscule legs of the thing tickle my palm now. I’m assessing my catch. This one is too small. It simply will not do. It needs to grow and mature before I could even consider capturing this luminous soul. I’m going to let it go. I open my palm and it flits away from me, surely rejoining his glowing brethren but this time with a story to tell.My baby sister and I are darting across our lawn, back and forth now, for what has seemed like only a few moments. We’re laughing, enthralled in the beauty and wonderment of the scene.“Hey, Dea, I found a really big one right here!â€? I’m exclaiming to my sister now.“Fabio, Fabio, I see a really bright one! Come here!â€? She’s yelling back.It hasn’t been long but our game is over now. We’re saying good night to the fireflies now and sprinting back up to our wood deck, exhausted from the chase but running on an adrenaline high. I briefly and proudly show my mom the night’s catch and before she can say ‘Oh, wow,’ I’ve already begun staring at my jar, full of little lightning bugs. It’s glowing bright, my suburban lantern.My usual request to bring the jar inside has been denied again, per usual. Now it’s time for me to make this glass jar for my lightning bugs a home. I’m poking tiny holes in the top of the jar using a pen now so they can breath. I’m going to place some grass in too so they have food. What a nice home I’ve made for Steven, Ross, Fireman, Lightdude, Ember, Doug, Nick, and Eric. I’m going to say good night to you now, little guys. I’ll see you in the morning!Morning is here now and I’m running outside to check on my prized jar. Only one of my fireflies is alive now. He’s slowly crawling across the bottom of the glass, navigating through the bodies of his mothers, brothers, sisters, aunts. His belly is smoldering ever so dimly now, barely casting a light in this hot morning sun. I don’t think they liked the grass I gave them, either.“Mom, why do my bugs always die in the morning? I even gave them grass this time.â€? I’m asking my poor mother now.“Because…â€? She begins. “Because their light only burns for a night. They burn bright and hot, some more bright than others. Their bellies are big and glow at night but it will only last for so long. In the morning their lightbulb burns out and they die. Their lightbulb burns out, that’s all.â€?Shaking my now lifeless and lightless jar out into the yard now, I’m wondering how bright my lightbulb will burn.
