Mosquito

It happened tonight. I was outside tending my rain-weary pansies when I saw the first one land on my arm. I felt it and thought, “Ah-ha! Got ya!”, and in a very winter-like attitude, I blew hard on my arm to make the mosquito fly away.
Wait. What was I thinking?! By the end of my pansy patch, I had four mosquito bites and was screaming up the stairs for the Cortaid. I think the only thing that made the whole episode worthwhile was when I asked my husband for some help with the one bite that was in a hard-to-reach spot on my back, and he rubbed in the anti-itch cream into the bite for at least 20 seconds. Ah! Now that was sinfully satisfying, yet not something that would have garnered the admonishment of “STOP SCRATCHING!” from a grandmother.
But...aren’t we supposed to see fireflies before mosquitoes?!

Spring has sprung

In March, the Robins began screaming through the trees in clusters of threes and fours fighting for the hen of their dreams, while subdued Cardinal couples bounced around the forest floor gathering fallen dogwood berries. And plump squirrels scavenged for nuts and twigs as if they, like I, were not convinced winter would ever end.

Spring taunted us. Two days of warmth, ten days of chill…a day of sun, three days of gloom…wind, rain, cold, hot…. The first signs of spring were subtitle, as they always are. Even though it was still cold, the plants knew. A crocus here, a paperwhite there…then a daffodil sprout, bulges on tree branches where leaves wanted out. And then, all at once, spring was announced by an explosion of cherry blossoms, daffodils, tulips, forsythia, pear blossoms, dogwoods, and budding azaleas.

Even so, it wasn’t until today that it really felt like we had broken winter’s grip. It was 77 degrees under a brilliantly blue sky, and the nursery was hopping. I bought my weight in flowers and herbs and spent the rest of the day arched over my gardenette (it really is small), tilling up worms in black soil, brushing aside bugs, and marveling at the prospect of warm summer nights, annoying mosquitoes, and the season’s first firefly.

The much-anticipated spring is here.

The Firefly

The first firefly of summer drifted through the twilight this evening.

It brought with it a flood of memories. Memories of warm evenings in my grandmother endless back yard, chasing little yellow flashes until it was so dark that their light was nearly all I could see.

I stood in the silence of my front porch tonight, watching this lone firefly dance through the air. It seemed to whisper “summer is here”, and then vanish into the neighbor’s yard.

All creatures have a purpose. The firefly’s must be to make us smile.

(None of these photos are mine. The last one, the one in the golden light, can be credited to National Geographic, but the others were just out there on Google.)