When They Start Blinking, May You Remember
Dusk on a Swing
It’s dusk on a summer night. I’m sitting outside on the porch swing with Jeff, my husband. We’re watching the birds at our new bird feeder (sorry squirrels, it’s not for you!), trying to identify bird songs and double-checking our answers with the Merlin Bird ID App.
And then—there they are.
The lightning bugs.
At first we see only one. Then two. Three. Then dozens. Little flickers of light floating across the front lawn.
We sit there quietly, just watching.
Our phones are put away in our pockets.
No glancing at the time.
Just two grownups sharing the kind of moment you don’t plan for, but somehow holds great meaning anyway.
A Memory Jar of Light
We break the silence to reminisce about childhood summers, staying outside to chase lightning bugs (or fireflies, if you prefer).
And memories surface from when our own daughters were young. When the lightning bugs appeared, we’d run into the house to find an empty jelly jar. Punch breathing holes in the lid. Help the girls catch as many bugs as we could (well, technically they’re beetles). Then head inside to a dark room and watch the bugs perform their light show.
It felt like holding wonder in your hands.
And then we’d release them back into the wild later that night. (Hmm, I hope we did. I think we did? I know I would now.)
The Light Still Here
It felt like magic back then.
It feels like magic again tonight.
I don’t know when we stop paying attention to lightning bugs. Maybe somewhere between:
- Rushing to clean the kitchen after dinner
- Dashing to mow the grass before the sun sets
- Hurrying to get from here to there on time
But even when we don’t notice them, they still show up.
And maybe that’s true of more than just lightning bugs.
Notice What Matters
There are lots of tiny, quiet moments of magic around us every day, every night—if we’d only be still long enough to see them.
Things like the crackle of lightning in a summer storm. Flowers perking up after a rain. A neighbor stopping to chat in the driveway.
Moments like these don’t make the daily headlines. They’re not trending topics on social media. They won’t go viral on TikTok.
But they matter just as much—for their beauty, for their amazement, and for how they gently contribute toward human flourishing.
Let This Moment Ripple
So tonight, I’ll let the lightning bugs remind me:
- To watch their flickers a little more closely
- To linger outside a little while longer
- To appreciate life a little more intentionally
The whirl of time will spin again soon enough. But for now, I’ll stay in this moment—just long enough to let it ripple—then gently release it as a memory for tomorrow.
When have you had a quiet moment lately that reminded you to linger a little longer? (And do you call them lightning bugs or fireflies?) Share your thoughts in the comments.
What a beautiful post, Lisa. We need more and more of these quiet moments where we take time to be quiet and enjoy…especially during troubling times like we see all around us these days.
One of my favorite parts of these summer days is seeing the lightning bugs emerge at dusk. It takes me back to my own childhood, and to my children’s and grandchildren’s experiences with catching them. Always, always, there is delight to be had in witnessing these small miracles. Have a blessed weekend, Lisa!
I so enjoyed this ‘memory’ making post, Lisa. Growing up in a military family (my father’s career), we often lived on the east coast. My brothers and I would catch the fireflies (we don’t have them here on the west coast) and were fascinated by these tiny miracles. When I was on an east coast trip in 1990, and spending a week in the Amish country, I sat on a back patio area in the bed and breakfast where I stayed and gloried in seeing fireflies again…better appreciated but still magical in my adult years!
Oh Lisa, you are BACK IN MY INBOX! YAY! Have no idea which server was not communicating, but it matters not, b/c we are back in business . . . AND just in time for this gorgeous, glowing post!
Oh how I love fireflies. We love being at our cabin, deep in the dark Missouri woods, where the fireflies “light show” as you so aptly put it, brightens the night sky. Somehow, they’ve always given me hope.
And here we are, in the midst of a dark night of the American soul (in my personal and Evangelical opinion). And your glowing post gives me hope, so much so that I wrote a “Buried Treasure” poem, excavated from yours. It’s a ripple effect from what you, yourself, wrote. I’ll let it gel a bit, the tweak a bit and then post it here. This is a poetic post of yours (you ARE a poet!–so there!), and I could not help but let it be a springboard–a ripple, if you will–for my own thought and creativity.
Keep shining the light, dearest Lisa. We need it, and we need you!
xo
Lynn
Great memory! Often in the middle of a warm summer night, when my restless legs kick in and I walk around the house I go outside and breath in the night air and watch those fireflies. good company in the middle of the night as we stargaze together!
I love this, Lisa. It brings back those childhood memories when we would catch those fireflies also in a jar. Then we would take them deep into our parents’ closet and sit and watch them light up the darkness. 🙂 And we would let them go later, too. I love how you tied this moment of wonder in with your word “ripple.” Love and hugs and blessings to you!
This is such a beautifully written post, filled with such important gems! <3
There are two Adirondack chairs sitting up on the hill near the garden, and we plunked down in them a few days ago. We’d been weeding the garden and were tired, but felt a sense of accomplishment as we surveyed the recently-mowed lawn and the gorgeous day seemed like a gift from God.
I have always loved fireflies.
This week as we took our evening walks, we saw them flicking all around us along our local path.
And– they will light up their surroundings even if no one is watching.
Lisa, not sure I should post my buried-treasure poem, excavated from your blogpost here, b/c it would be fairly long. But wow! you’ve really inspired me. I love how this lays out in a poem, and the inspiration you have provided me not just in creativity, but the lessons you are sharing. The poem seems to emphasize them. THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!
XO
Lynn
I really want to see the poem! If WordPress will let you, please post it here! If not, could you email it to me? Thank YOU! I know it will be wonderful. 🙂
LISA, YOU’RE SO KIND. I DOUBT THIS WILL FORMAT CORRECTLY, SO I WILL ALSO SEND YOU A PDF PERSONALLY, BUT HERE ‘TIS (HOWEVER IT APPEARS). THANK *YOU* FOR THE WONDERFUL INSPIRATION!!
Flickers of Light: Hope for Today, Hope for Tomorrow
A Buried-Treasure Poem
by Lynn D Morrissey
Excavated from
“When They Start Blinking, May You Remember”
by Lisa Burgess
Dusk on a summer night swings with birds
and bird songs.
And then—there they are—
fireflies.
First, see flickers of light
floating quietly,
just watching.
Moments hold great meaning:
A lightning bug blinking
on a blade of grass.
Memories of light break the silence,
so don’t chase what you prefer.
Stay here and
let memories surface
till the light appears.
Don’t run into the house
to find emptiness in a dark room.
Instead, punch breathing holes,
breathing into the light,
holding onto the wonder.
Then release back into the wild
your one, bare hope
glowing
with fireflies at twilight
The Light is still here,
still there
(still everywhere).
What felt like magic back then
can become magic tonight
and again and again,
tomorrow.
Somewhere between rushing
dashing,
hurrying,
hiding,
we don’t notice.
But trust all that’s true
will still show up.
Notice what matters,
like lots of tiny, quiet moments
of magic
every day,
every night.
Be still long enough to see …
crackles of lightning,
flowers perking,
neighbors stopping.
They matter for their beauty and amazement
toward flourishing.
Let these moments ripple …
Let the fireflies’ flickers remind
you to linger longer,
to appreciate intentionally
even in the whirl of time,
the soon-enough spin.
For now,
stay in this moment long enough
to let it ripple
into your heart and mind—
then gently release it as hope for today
and
hope for tomorrow …
Wow–just wow, Lynn!!! What you do with your poetry is amazing. The fewer words in your poem are much better than my post; I should trade it out! lol. For someone who says she uses a lot of words to say things, you have such a gift also to strip away unnecessary words to get to the heart of the matter. Thank you for putting this together and sharing it with me. It’s a treasure that will ripple with me a long distance!
I’m continuing to reflect especially on these lines:
Instead, punch breathing holes,
breathing into the light,
holding onto the wonder.
Then release back into the wild
your one, bare hope
glowing
with fireflies at twilight
I must admit I’ve never seen a Lightening Bug Lisa. Apparently we do have them here in Australia but not in the regions I have lived.
We also have glow worms which are majestical in cave entrances. I have seen the Fluorescent Algae in the sea though which shows it’s presence in a bright blue Fluorescence in the water & the waves at night when disturbed, absolutely majestical.
Yes there is definitely the extraordinary in the ordinary.
Blessings, Jennifer
I love this! We were just reminiscing about this very thing last week when we saw lightning bugs at my parents’ house. Beautiful post!
I haven’t seen lightning bugs in a while. Sitting around outside right now gets me a new arrangement of red-dot constellations on my skin, especially at dusk. I love this post, Lisa. Lightning bugs are fascinating, and they are a wonderful reminder to enjoy the miracle of the moments. Thank you for eloquent reminder, especially this line: “The whirl of time will spin again soon enough. But for now, I’ll stay in this moment—just long enough to let it ripple—then gently release it as a memory for tomorrow.”
Lisa, as I suspected: It did not indent properly. I love to indent lines, b/c it emulates movement. That said, you get the gist.
These are generally called “found” poems, b/c the poet finds his/her poem midst the words of another’s. The original author is due real credit; and yet, the new poem is a new creation. I learned tons from your wonderful insights, and further ones when I fleshed out a poem
The rules for found poems (which I prefer to call “buried treasure” poems) is that there are no rules. Generally, the words are yours, though many are obviously originated and re-lineated. Plus, to make it sensical, sometimes the poet needs to add words of her own, whether to finish a thought grammatically, or perhaps to add another twist, such as I did with the word, “hiding.”
Anyway, see what you think, and thank you again so much for your creative, thought-provoking inspiration!
Muchlove,
Lynn
Too sleepy to proof!
Beautiful post, Lisa.
Chasing fireflies is one of the purest joys of childhood. I am glad you were able to recapture the feeling, even if only for a few minutes.
Stopping by from the July One Word Link-up.