“A trip down memory lane to when life was much simpler, sweeter, and where innocence lived. Where there was a magic that we all experienced as kids. I look around now…at the summers of my adulthood…and wonder, where has the magic gone?”

“Everything good and everything magical happens between the months of June and August.”  – Jenny Han, The Summer I Turned Pretty

I remember the first time I saw the “glow.” My young mind was convinced that everything around me was magic. I was older than six, not quite nine, and magic was in no short supply back then. I’m now convinced that all that time ago, magic lived in my little part of the world and took up residency in my backyard.

I would see them outside my window at night, lighting up the sky, setting the apple trees all aglow, like Christmas lights in the summer. Sometimes, they would crawl on the screen of my room begging me to come out and play. Flapping their little wings and sending little messages with the flashes of light. I would always return the favor by talking to them. I didn’t know much about them, but I was convinced that was how they spoke. Why it hadn’t dawned on me to use the flashlight that always sat on the dresser to flash my own little messages is beyond me.
I remember them being terribly loquacious critters. Coming and going, inviting friends into the conversation and even trying to sneak in through the tear in the screen to get a better look at my room. I put up no protest, but thought to make their visit a lot easier by ripping that hole just a bit more.

One night, in particular, it was ridiculously humid and there was the threat of a storm rolling through. As I remember it – we got that storm and managed to keep power for a few minutes on our block. After that though, we lost it. The darkness was something otherworldly in our neighborhood. The place took on a new atmosphere, even the air felt different. I’ve always been a fan of the way the earth smells after a storm. I don’t know if lightning has a smell, but I swear it did then.

After the thunderstorm and heavy winds came and left, when my family thought it was safe again, we ventured outdoors to assess the damage. We were so eager to see what happened after hearing the lightning strike something nearby and hearing crashing noises, that we all kind of ran outside when it moved on. Even my grandmother, who couldn’t get around as much, sprang into action. She was worried about the apple trees. They were heirlooms and valuable to her. We were safe from the trees doing damage to the house. They were set deep in the middle of our corner lot, away from us. But still, I sensed her worry and held her hand as we ventured out. These trees had been planted by her husband who’d passed before I was born. So, we set out into the yard armed with flashlights. We had no fencing around the front of the house, but there was some on the side that led to the back which meant anyone could just walk through our yard when they wanted – and often times they did to get to the street behind us. No one in their right mind would have been out in what felt like a hurricane in the middle of the Midwest.

Things had cooled off. There was a breeze still blowing the water off the trees in the front yard and it felt like a drizzle of rainfall to me. As we made it to the back, all that could be seen was the downed limb from one of the huge apple trees standing at the center of the yard. Everything else was fine. We looked around back to see how the aluminum sheds had fared against the heavy winds and they were still standing. The swing set, however, had one of the swings wrapped around the top pole. Bad news for the kid who’d have to scale the rickety structure to unwrap it so we could swing.

I noticed though – standing in total dark save for the flashlights – there were very few lightning bugs in the yard. I thought perhaps the storm had taken them away. I was a little saddened by the thought that maybe they didn’t survive the storm. My grandmother was upset as well at the sight of her tree. When I thought about that tree and realized that the downed limb was the same perch I liked sitting on after climbing up. At the thought that it would no longer be there – I grew even sadder.

We’d taken the sight of everything in and had gone back inside to light the candle. And raise the windows for the breeze since the power outage meant no air conditioning or fans. It was a hot night in our house. I remember sleeping on top of the covers in my “Beat- It” nightgown which had Michael Jackson’s moonwalking glitter socks on the front. It was purple and made of a strange material that all little girls’ nightgowns were made of in the 80’s. Some poly blend that stuck to my skin that night. I was miserable and could barely sleep. I was terribly worried about the fireflies. Where had they gone? I would toss and turn and look out the window then look over to the other window over beside my sister’s bed, where she was sound asleep. Nothing but total darkness. Not one little signal.

The next morning came with the sound of men with chainsaws chopping the downed limb into pieces. As I rose from my bed, I saw that my little sister was already up and gone from the room. The house was a little cooler than I remembered it being when I went to sleep. It had cooled off through the night and the day was a bit overcast and muggy. I did as I was told that morning and bathed in cool water which actually felt good. I decided I wanted to wear a summer dress – the kind that tied on top of the shoulder, and went to have a breakfast. Cereal was on the menu. We had to preserve the food in the fridge since the power was still out. That meant no opening the door to decide what we wanted nice and leisurely.

After breakfast, I headed outside to see my friends gathering on my front porch to come and see what happened. The neighbor’s grandchildren, I was only friends with two out of the three of them, came across the yard as well. The third, a boy, had decided that girls couldn’t be his friends, but still he was constantly in my yard asking me to play kickball and tag.

We all pondered the same thing…the downed limb…how strong had it been? It was pretty thick and the lightning seemed to have sliced through it like butter. No more playing that far up in the tree. Our parents, in particular, my grandmother, forbade it.

We watched the men, a few guys from the neighborhood that my grandmother called on, cutting and stacking the wood in the back for anyone who wanted it. We didn’t have a fireplace but there were neighbors who did and they gladly claimed it, telling us that the wood of apple trees always smelled sweeter burning. I wouldn’t know – we never got to burn it.

We played as much as the weather allowed us to play in the humidity…stopping only to get water, as we were ordered to do by the adults. Somewhere, the lines were down and the Ameren trucks were rolling through to get to the location of the damage.

Power had been restored by midevening. We barbecued that night and played well into the evening in the park directly across the street from my house. The Popsicle truck was a godsend, making multiple trips through the neighborhood. There would be no walking to the candy store that day. It was too humid and much too far away without being able to ride our bikes. Our parents wanted us to stick close to home.

Our barbecue was done before dark. The entire family and some of the other families had cleared their houses to sit out on their fronts, in their yards, or driveways in order to feel the cool air blowing at a steady breeze. The grass wasn’t as damp, but it seemed to be full of all manner of bugs after the storm – mostly mosquitoes. They ate at my legs and arms and even bit my face once the sun had begun to sink behind the clouds. I itched everywhere and was told on several occasions to go in and have a bath, but I stubbornly refused. I needed to see something.

As it grew darker, my attention turned to the yard where the men had cleared the limb. We’d had a few neighbors asking if they could have some apples earlier in the day – and they came with their bags and filled them up. We gathered the apples from the limb that fell and stored them in the house in two big wooden bowls in the kitchen. My sister and I sat on the porch eating our caramel apples, which my mom had made with those caramel sheets from the grocery store. A sticky sweet surprise for us.

At last, the street lamps came on and we had light! The lights in the house fluttered on and then we heard the kick of the air conditioning roaring to life. But neither of us went inside.

My grandmother requested that we turn the lights off and close the windows to keep the house cool with the air running. She was parked in her favorite lawn chair on the porch, one of those fold up things with springs underneath. She sat with her cane resting beneath her hands and her chin resting on the back of her hand…as I’m sure all wise elders do before they impart knowledge at the top of a mountain. Only, she remained quiet. I don’t know what she was thinking, I just knew it must have been something deep enough for her to hum a song. I think that must have been what contentment looked like on her. She broke her silence to ask me what I was looking at. I was scanning the trees for my little friends. I still couldn’t see them. I told her that I was worried about the lightning bugs and how they left.

She picked up her cane and pointed to the side of the yard where the apple trees were. She said, “They prefer sweet leaves.” I looked and to my surprise, there were sparks of light dancing in the darkness. My sister sat on the porch with my grandmother. My remaining friends leaped from the porch and ran with me to the large part of our yard. My eye grew wide and couldn’t believe it. There were so many! They were in the tops of the apple trees, in the blades of grass, in the air, on the ‘snowball’ bush and in the grape vines that lined the backyard. I’d never seen so many in my life. This was the magic of summer for me.

It seemed to me that the glow had picked up after the storm. And rather than the fireflies being blown away they had been blown in. Our whole yard, the corner lot, was lit up and I couldn’t wait to go talk to my little friends. Running through the damp grass full of mosquitoes and chiggers in jelly bean sandals was something only little girls would do with no issue. Those shoes weren’t made for comfort or performance – strictly for fashion.
Feeling the damp blades slap against my legs was both a comfort and a curse. If my friends were out playing in the humid air – lighting up the night sky, then their evil cousins were just waiting in those blades ready to attack. They had been biting for the better part of the day.

I remember smiling so much. I was just so happy to see that the glow had returned in full force. I walked to the yard where there were the most lights. I had no jars that night – they were all full of grandma’s applesauce and preserves. I just had my hands. I ran and caught them, whispered little secrets to them and let them go. We played until my mother called us in from the yard. I didn’t want to go in and asked if we could, instead, sleep outside. The answer was a firm NO. When I got inside, she stood me in front of the mirror so that I could see for myself why that was a No. I was covered head to foot in bug bites. That night, I was given a bath and Calamine Lotion to cure the bites to my arms, legs, feet, and face. I conceded but wasn’t too upset. They were back and soon they’d be back at my window talking to me again, sending me signals and inviting their friends to dance and play with me.

Just last night, I sat outside on the porch in the slightly cool air taking in the night, like I like to do, and noticed only two of my little friends flying around the yard. I thought, maybe they are trying to reach each other – one was on one end of the yard the other was near the porch. So, I decided to close the gap between them. I walked down off the porch to the yard and caught one to bring it back to the porch, where the other one was flashing its little beacon from the awning. I let it go nearby to see what would happen. One flew away in one direction and the other stuck to the awning. Two ships in the night…It was worth a try.

What saddens me is that there seems to be a shortage of magic now.  No abundance of fireflies lighting up the night or kids running after them. Kids today are all too preoccupied with tech. Were we a different breed back then? So much magic lost – or maybe the magic is still there waiting to be rediscovered? I don’t know.
The last few nights, I’ve noticed nothing but a small number of fireflies…a handful maybe, in the yard. But as I write this – the weather radio in the house has just announced that a severe thunderstorm is approaching and I feel my hope rise. I miss home. I miss the magic. I miss the glow.

Though I no longer live on 5950 Jefferson and the house no longer stands, it’s just an empty lot now in a vacant neighborhood due to the Airport buyout that happened years ago…I wonder. I wonder if they roam the shrubbery that is still there lining that space. The apple trees have been cut down and the lot is flat now but still I wonder. Our yard was thick with honeysuckle and berry bushes…the sweet leaves. I wonder if they are still there, waiting to send a little girl a signal to come out and dance and play.