Tiny toads and fireflies

I grew up on a farm out in the middle of the country, and it's taken some adjustments to get used to living in town. Sometimes I really miss the sights, sounds and smells of a world full of birds, fields, ponds, and trees. The backyard at my townhouse consists of a concrete patio and a gardening plot that's hardly large enough for the tomato plant, balloon flowers, and mums I currently have there-- so I hardly ever spend time outside enjoying nature. I do have bird feeders out for the birds and the squirrels, but Squirreligig has this nasty habit of tearing the bird feeder apart every time I put seed in it. In the country, squirrels aren't that brazen.

The things I miss most about life on the farm are the little things--literally. Baby ducks, little minnows in the pond, baby chicks, tadpoles, tiny baby frogs and toads, fireflies (or lightning bugs, as we call them here in the South)-- these are the things that take me back to another time and place. But even now when I go back, I hardly ever get to see these things. My visits to the homeplace are so spaced out that I usually miss lightning bug season and the tiny window when the baby toads are hopping all over the place. I miss those little fellas most of all.

I may be a girl, but I love scooping up those tiny amphibians in my hand and examining them. They're so tiny and so perfect, with their cute little eyes and their tiny spots. I love how they blow bubbles under their chin as we stare at each other. I adore the way they hop all around trying to get away from me. :) They used to be everywhere at my grandpa's pond, so many of them that you had to watch where you were walking or you would squash one of them.

It's true that you can't go home again, but sometimes you can find a new place that reminds you of home. I found that place last week at a community park less than five minutes from my place. The park has a rather small pond, not nearly as impressive as the many lakes you find in the Triangle area, but my friend Jen and I decided that we'd take a walk around it since we needed some exercise. Imagine my surprise when, a little more than halfway around, I spotted a small dark creature hopping along the path in front of me. I stopped in my tracks. I knew at once what it was, and I wasted little time bending down and scooping the little toad up. He only let me gaze on him for a moment before leaping away, but it was enough to make me happy. The remainder of our walk yielded at least a dozen more sightings of these fascinating wonders of the universe, and you can bet that I took each opportunity to hold them in my hands. Some of them peed on me, but it's par for the course and I've come to expect it. I was in heaven.

But wait, that's not all. As the sun slowly went down, the fireflies began to light up the woods all around us. On our second trip to the pond earlier this week, we sat on a bench in the trees and watched as hundreds of fireflies lit up all around us. Many of them were close enough for us to reach out and touch, and I delighted in sitting there and watching the flickers of light. It was like being in an enchanted forest. I haven't seen fireflies like this in years, and it was the perfect complement to the tiny toad reunion.

The park would be an ideal spot if it weren't for the fact that it's not safe to go there alone (there were quite a few sketchy people there on both of our visits), but at least I have Jen to go with me. I guess it just reinforces the fact that you can't go home again, and the world's not nearly as safe or innocent as it was when toads and fireflies were the most amazing things in your life.