Running through Central Park tonight I hit the wall of a different kind. The one that smacks you in the head with a childhood memory that had been lost for 30-plus years. You see, catching lightning bugs was a traditional part of our summer evenings on Long Island in the 1960s. We loved the way they seemed to dart around knowing we were after them  — not to hurt them —  but rather to cherish their magical powers up close — just for a few minutes in a jar while they lit up our nights.

I moved to Southern California in 1985. I never thought about those bugs once I left home. But now I realize how many summers I’ve missed the opportunity to dance with and chase these elusive sparks. My run through the park stopped short tonight when a virtual  battalion of these little treasures lit up the lush green path. Flooding my head with really lovely accutane memories of those carefree days I got a bit choked up, a little misty, and then I wept.

I had  to find out why these special creatures don’t live – and light – on the West Coast. Well scientists say they love warm, humid climates, an in the U.S., almost no species of fireflies is found west of Kansas. I also learned:

a) they are nocturnal, the reason they light up is to attract a mate, and they are part of the beetle family

b) the females have brighter and bigger lights (Too obvious, don’t go there.)

c) their enzyme luciferin — that allows them to glow — generates light, but not heat.

From my favorite poet:

Fireflies in the Garden