We left downtown Washington D.C. for some unknown reason and as day ebbed into night, my Mother read a kid's book about packing for travel which contained the line, "Oops, I almost forgot my toothbrush; I can tuck it right inside..."
I was probably six years old. Sometime during the night as we traveled to "Sugar" (Grandmother's) house in Southern Virginia, the generator went out, and our car ground to a halt in front of the old Country Store with a screen door and a proprietor preparing to close. The "Rainbow Bread" blond little girl smiled at me from the ad on the door, and I knew that at some level everything would be OK. My Dad persuaded the guy who was closing his store to let him make a phone call. "Reverse the charges," no doubt. And in the darkness of the night, my Uncle Bill would begin to make his way toward us to haul us to Grandmother's...
Fast forward a few days to Independence Day. Before and after that particular year, we would all plop down on a hill in Arlington, Virginia, and watch as best we could the fireworks trying to climb their way above the Washington Monument from the Mall below. The parents did this to avoid traffic jams, which were mild then in the late 1950's when measured by today's standards...
At "Sugar's" house, things were simpler. In the dark of night on her rural hill, we played with sparkler's that were twice the length of modern versions and lasted seemingly forever. There was never a worry then about precaution, and we fearlessly threw 'em up into the shadows of the night like fiery swords...
"Sugar" and Granddad had vocabulary unique to their home place. Skunks were "polecats," and fireflies were "lightening bugs," and will always remain so with me... Which brings me to the most profound joy. On Independence Days in the intervening years, forget fireworks... Give me acres of Lightening Bugs, like those on the field-carpets - undulating pinpoint lights I saw on Monday evening a week ago just past dusk along Austin Road in Saline Township.
Last evening, while people played with a myriad of explosives, I quietly sat and watched pinpoints of light rise with the sweet warmth of the evaporating light and wander-wave toward the heavens. I watched them with wonder from the very porch from which children and the occasional grandchild would chase their ancestors with jars and high hopes of catching a few. I found the most profound joy in simply remembering all of the above in a rush of minutes punctuated by the most wondrous sight of wandering pinpoints of flame, the the Creator's best display on this particular Independence Day.
If one looks closely above... ;)
