When I take the Beagle out for his nighttime walk these days, I have been seeing two sets of lights in the sky. Down the hill from the house, between the yard and the corn field, is the gravel road. This road is the corridor within which the fireflies tend to congregate at this time of night. There are dozens of them, flitting about, showing off their bioluminescent capabilities.
When look up the slope of the corn field toward the night sky and blink quickly, I cannot tell which lights belong to the fireflies and which belong to the stars. In those snapshots of sight, the stars hurtle closer to the earth, and the fireflies zoom into outer space. And I stand still. And the Beagle sniffs around for signs of opossums.
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