Three weeks ago I heard a song.
Three weeks ago I heard a song. An instrumental version of Fireflies by Owl City. It wasn’t a particularly great rendition of the song, but for unexplainable reasons it stuck with me.
A week ago I had a dream. My wife threw me a birthday party and I was surrounded by friends and family. A wonderful night abound with good drinks and good vibes was winding down, and those who remained were in my backyard lamenting about how the fireflies weren’t around. But then an obvious idea dawned on me, so, full of hope, I quieted the light. With amazement we saw that the fireflies were there the whole time—the light was just drowning them out. If I wanted to assign meaning to the dream, it would be a reminder to not lose sight of what is around you. I thought no more of the dream, and went into the work week.
Tonight, after a week at work that felt like three, I found myself unburdened from the normal scheduling nightmares I get myself into. I was alone, at home, with no plans. I started it by eating too much and watching a show I have been half-binging before I finally worked up the courage to do something I kept threatening myself with—go for a walk. For the past few weeks I’ve had a deep desire walk with no destination. I finally did.
I walked out of my neighborhood until I was following a busy road that leads into the city. I walked along the busy road briefly before stopping on a bridge to look at a creek. I stopped to look for turtles and listen to water run over rocks, but instead I saw a raccoon at the bank of the creek. Now, I can’t explain why, but I was transfixed on this raccoon. It felt like he was the only thing that mattered at that moment. I watched for several minutes as he rummaged in the water, no doubt looking for food, before finally disappearing into the brush. Coming back to myself, I was ready to walk away, until the first firefly appeared. It was the first one I saw this year and it was beautiful. An effervescent orb suspended in the air in the way only fireflies appear completely unbothered. And then a second appeared, followed by a third. I’ve had mind altering experiences previously, and although I was 100% sober tonight, I could feel that this experience was going to be magical.
I *knew* that this moment was going to be special—one of those moments that you remember for a long time. The song, the dream, and the long week of work were all culminating to this. Until it was ripped away. Until the street lights flickered on. The fireflies, seeing that it was bright again, went dark.
It was like a midnight reflection of my dream, everything was dark and out of my control. The fireflies were gone and they took the moment with them. Recognizing that something wasn’t right in my mind, I tried to explore my feelings on my walk back home. I wasn’t sad, not really. Nor disappointed, depressed, or disturbed. I was resigned. Defeated. Empty.
As I approached home, deep in thought, I saw fireworks announce the end of the local baseball game over the industrial park behind my house. While I usually love watching fireworks, this felt like a sick twist to the end of my walk. There is no point to this story. I just want to see fireflies again.