The flickering silent dance of a hundred fireflies over the dusky field. It drew me from the porch out into the night. Away from the constant hum of fans and air conditioning inside our home. The drum of the dryer, the occasional babble of the baby who is still not asleep.
Just to be quiet here for a moment. Just to be. To listen, to participate by bringing full awareness to the night song that goes on every night, that is missed and droned out by loud flashy tv shows and chatter. Just to be fully awake to this moment.
To hear the playful trickling of water, my husband silently watering the garden behind me after weeding it for the past hour, stealing the very last of daylight.
The far-off cry of the whippoorwill that sings to us every summer.
The cadence of the frogs in the new pond dug into the valley below our house.
And the dance of the fireflies, like sparks flying upward from the earth.
Nothing else can fill this place in my soul. No amount of human interaction, social media, mindless entertainment–all the things I turn to in loneliness. Only this: me alone before God. Waking up to Him here, in this place, the always-with-me Presence. Simply savoring and enjoying Him.
It is enough.