I was thinking about fireflies the other day.
When I was little, the idea of going out at night to look for tiny glowing insects felt like the most magical thing in the world. On the very rare chance we would see one.
And then I grew up.
I don’t think I’ve looked for a firefly since.
Which is a bit sad, really.
When you’re a kid, you notice everything. Weird bugs. Tiny flowers growing through cracks. Feathers on the pavement. Funny-shaped clouds. A really good stick.
You’d put a shiny stone in your pocket and carry it around all day like you’d discovered treasure.
Somewhere along the way, we stop doing that.
We get busy. We walk faster. We look at our phones. We stop looking under things and staring at things and wondering what things are.
But none of it went anywhere.
The moths are still hanging around porch lights.
The moon is still ridiculous.
Foxes are still sneaking about after dark.
Beetles still look like tiny pieces of jewellery.
Birds are still flying halfway across the planet and somehow knowing exactly where they’re going.
The world is still really, really weird.
And brilliant.
Maybe growing up doesn’t have to mean becoming less interested in it all.
Maybe we should still go outside after dark just to see what’s there.
Still stop for the tiny things.
Still get excited when we spot something we’ve never seen before.
Still keep the occasional good stone.
Still look for fireflies.
Even if we don’t find any.
The world is full of magic.
You just have to remember to look for it. 🥹