Lightening Bug

A few mornings ago I was sitting at my desk trying to do some writing when I noticed a lightening bug on the window in front of me.  Those of you who have read this blog for well, even a week, will know my thoughts on nature.  I’m probably the only would-be writer who can do without it.  However, I adore lightening bugs.  I could watch them for hours, and in the daylight I feel so sorry for them because they can’t use their beautiful lights. They need the dark.

I stopped what I was working on and watched the bug on the window.  It was really humid out and there was a lot of condensation on the pane and as the bug moved, it made this pretty curlicue pattern. The marks the bug made were a little shaky and she moved slowly as she worked.  I wondered if it was slippery on the window with the water droplets, and hoped she wouldn’t fall. After awhile, she stopped making a pattern.  She still moved along the window, but there was no longer the loopy mark of her  careful dance.

I wondered why she stopped making marks, and why she started to do it in the first place.  Was she feeling her way around?  Was she unsure of the substance that she landed on and needed to study it for a time before she could move more easily?

I liked her pretty pattern; her little mark on my window. Soon, the sun would dry it up and then it would set and she would be flying around in the dark, shining her light. No need for her to feel her way around then.  Flying is what she was created to do.