Backyard Magic

For 49 weeks out of the year, my backyard is ordinary. It sports a large walnut tree, a sprawling patch of lily-of-the-valley, and a cringe-invoking view of the neighbor's above ground pool. I rarely enjoy my yard.

But for 3 weeks out of the year, my backyard is extraordinary. Dreamy. Magical. For 3 weeks, just past the summer solstice, the starry firmament bends low and sweeps stardust across my lawn. For 3 weeks, my backyard is lit with the come-hither dance of untold numbers of fire flies.

Like pagan lovers, they emerge at twilight. For one fleeting hour they sparkle and twinkle and form constellations on my lawn. For one fleeting hour, 3 weeks in a row, I stand breathless and mesmerized before them.

Each little point of light is on a mission. Each one has an objective, a goal, a purpose in life. With limited time to accomplish their goals, they waste no time on stage fright. There are no fire flies wavering in uncertainty at the bottom of a blade of grass. At twilight, they get right down to business. The business of being themselves. Just as God made them to be. And just how do they accomplish their goals, their objectives, their purposes in life? They shine. And they shine. And they shine.

They reveal their light to draw towards themselves exactly what they want. They reveal the light that shines within. Unabashedly. Magically. With purpose. With no apologies.