Crickets. Their sound buzzes in my ears. It's calling me. Grabbing my clothes and pulling me out the door. The old rickety screen squeaks open and slams shut behind me. On the front porch steps I sit, and wait, listening to the melody of the crickets. The sun has left a honey-brown glow on the horizon; it's not quite dark enough to see them yet. A light breeze sends the long willow branches swaying, moving their long arms beckoning me closer. My feet bare feet find their way across the damp, soft grass. It tickles my toes as I scurry across the yard. I run my fingers across the long, drooping branches of the tree as I climb. Higher and higher, I can start to see further and further. Finally, my feet find the last foothold and my perch is there. High up in this tree, I can see the world below. I look at the horizon again, this time it's a bronze-purple color. Soon! I think to myself. I pull the small Mason jar from my pocket and hold it up to the last drops of sunlight. The colorful sky is warped and swirled through the jar, but it's kind of pretty. That's when they start to come out. I see the first one, and it's like someone dropped a tiny star onto the earth. It hovers above the ground, its glow increasing with each wing beat. I watch in fascination as more appear just like the other. The sun is gone now, but I won't need it. Their light is bright enough.
It looks as though the sky was dumped onto the earth, a million tiny stars glowing beneath me. I admire their glow for a while before slowly climbing down. With each step, the tiny sky of stars gets closer, and starts to look more like a field of wild flowers. I reach the bottom and leap the rest of the way down, letting my toes squirm around in the long, soft grass. I approach the fireflies carefully at first, sinking down to where each one was at eye level. I open the jar and reach forward slowly, letting them fly into my jar rather than chasing them. Once I'm satisfied with the number, I close the lid, careful to make sure the holes are wide enough for air. I straighten back up and look around me. Hundreds of tiny fireflies swim around me through the air, dancing in the false moonlight that they cast.
Again I sit on the porch steps, the peeling white paint illuminated with a green glow. I hold the jar up to my face again and watch them fly around, their lights flickering on and off. I breathe in the cool summer air, the smell of moist grass and rain fills the air. I look up at the sky to see a million tiny stars staring down at me. It's as if the stars were the fireflies' reflection in a black lagoon. I take a look at the jar one last time before setting it on the step next to me and unscrewing the lid. I watch as they slowly find their way out of the jar and back into the air. I smile and take another deep breath. Turning around, I open the creaky door and step inside, letting it slam behind me. I can hear the light breeze as it rustles through the willow trees, its branches waving goodbye.
And the crickets, they're louder than ever now. Together, it's nature's symphony.
The world's song.