There is a phenomenon in physics called entanglement. I do not understand much about physics, but I believe this peculiarity is not well understood by many people anyway. It occurs when astronomical bodies behave as if they are acting together when they are really so far apart that, given the limited speed of light, there is no way their activity can be related. Yet, they are synchronous. What is happening here? What is it that causes this celestial entanglement? Did they start out eons ago as one? Is it the remnant of something that happened so long ago it could not even be called prehistory, something at the dawn of time? No, that would not work; we are talking about something that predates life, predates even insects. As the king of Siam said, “It is a puzzlement.”
Recently I saw on television a little feature about families sitting out at night on lawn chairs, watching synchronous fireflies. I think it was in North Carolina. I have never seen synchronous lightning bugs. As a child I caught many, put them in jars with holes punched in the lids for air and grass in the jar for — I have no idea what, maybe to make them feel at home. I kept them in the jar for a while, probably even all night. I think I eventually set them free, however. I hope so. My children caught them also. I do not think I ever saw them flash in unison.
I wonder what causes this synchronized light show. Are the insects cooperating, harmonizing in a production that so-called superior beings cannot comprehend? Or are they entangled? If so, what causes it?
I have not seen lightning bugs in a long time. Are they still around? Have I just missed seeing them, or have they disappeared? Were they victims of mosquito control, good as that is? Come to think of it, where I live, I have not seen the “bug truck” recently either. Were the fireflies innocent victims when we tried to destroy disease carriers? Sadly, the mosquitoes are still with us.
Sometimes now I wonder also where have all the children gone. I do not have little children around me any more to watch — or catch — lightning bugs. They are no more. Oh, they are still alive, thank God, but they are not children now. In fact, their children are not children either. Actually, I don’t know if their children ever caught lightning bugs on lazy summer evenings the way our children did. (We even had air conditioning in those long-ago days, too!)
We lived near Lee Park then, and sometimes the uncleared areas of the park would twinkle like a fairyland with lightning bugs. I need to ride those roads at twilight and see if the fairies still fly there.
Sometimes we think we have just blinked and something familiar has disappeared. But it has been more than a blink, hasn’t it? It has been decades since I even thought about lightning bugs.
So I ask my readers — have you seen lightning bugs recently? Have I been guilty of just not looking anymore at one of nature’s delicate light shows? If so, I am ashamed of myself.
Robert Louis Stevenson wrote, “The world is so full of a number of things, it’s a wonder we’re all not as happy as kings.”
Sometimes I forget that things do not have to be earth-shaking, news-breaking, stupendous events to be important. Sometimes they can just be simple little bright spots of nature. I think I have become too insulated. We do not sit on front porches at night any more, talking with neighbors who happen to drift by. I miss that.
I think one evening soon, when darkness dims earth’s houselights, I am going to get in my car — I do not take solitary walks at night — and drive around my little world looking for a mini-show of tiny, star-like fireflies.
The Dispatch Editorial Board is made up of publisher Peter Imes, columnist Slim Smith, managing editor Zack Plair and senior newsroom staff.
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