Yesterday I saw the first fireflies of the year, as the monsoon rain moves inland and the warm summer becomes cooler .
This year the summer was really short and the heat unrelenting. For us hillies the fan which never usually sees the light of day was used over the day and night.
Fireflies usually come out during the middle of the monsoon, with the cicadas and the rhinoceros beetles, the former with its high and low notes and the latter beating against the windowpane. We have less cicadas than those who live on the western ghats.Our noisiest creature would be the headache bird or the Barbet whose "kutroo-kutroo"gets from one octave to the next and oft times is the harbinger of rain.
Somhow the years of living either in towns or cities have not stripped of my countryside love and time and again as I grew up and my life after marriage has brought me back to those roots.
I must be thankful to my Dad for that love for it was Him and his love for nature that gave me my lessons.
Fireflies, as I remember reading in many a Enid Blyton would be caught with a net into a glass jar by little boys chasing them as night fell. I don't recall my brothers doing that, too much energy would be required. I do remember the nights my father would catch a stray one and lay it on my palm. It would lie there unglowing and then take off sending its little beacon as it searched for a way out.
Once we moved to the city and college beckoned I forgot about most things country and loved every part of the colour and fast paced life that challenges one everyday .
The year my son was born however changed us. I had moved to the hills and I want3f him to know the thrills of seeing nature in all her glory (of course it now makes little impact the fact he didn't sleep all night ) and hubby and I would put him in the car and take him rambling through the dirt roads, mostly bereft of any vehicular traffic unlike today. We would stop on a road, witheither side darkened with coffee bushes and majestic silver oaks, cut the engine and wait.
Within a few minutes there would be tiny twinkling lights moving in from below the coffee bushes to above and oh, they sometimes filled atree akin to a Christmas tree all decorated and we would hold our breathe and take it in..
I wonder somtimes how much we who live where we are take all this for granted. I wonder if the city could give you that much pleasure and if children yearn for a simple life. I am blessed that me children have like me a chance to savour both..
Today is father's day and there isn't a day I don't remember my father and many balmy nights when I look up at the stars I see him there and his spirit continues to guide me and I know no matter where I go and what I do hes there and the firefly is his way of telling me life goes on.
So whenever you can get to the country and the fireflies are there, be amazed and remember that even on a dark night the little beacon of hope will lift your heart as nothing else will and share the wonder with your chikdren.
This year the summer was really short and the heat unrelenting. For us hillies the fan which never usually sees the light of day was used over the day and night.
Fireflies usually come out during the middle of the monsoon, with the cicadas and the rhinoceros beetles, the former with its high and low notes and the latter beating against the windowpane. We have less cicadas than those who live on the western ghats.Our noisiest creature would be the headache bird or the Barbet whose "kutroo-kutroo"gets from one octave to the next and oft times is the harbinger of rain.
Somhow the years of living either in towns or cities have not stripped of my countryside love and time and again as I grew up and my life after marriage has brought me back to those roots.
I must be thankful to my Dad for that love for it was Him and his love for nature that gave me my lessons.
Fireflies, as I remember reading in many a Enid Blyton would be caught with a net into a glass jar by little boys chasing them as night fell. I don't recall my brothers doing that, too much energy would be required. I do remember the nights my father would catch a stray one and lay it on my palm. It would lie there unglowing and then take off sending its little beacon as it searched for a way out.
Once we moved to the city and college beckoned I forgot about most things country and loved every part of the colour and fast paced life that challenges one everyday .
The year my son was born however changed us. I had moved to the hills and I want3f him to know the thrills of seeing nature in all her glory (of course it now makes little impact the fact he didn't sleep all night ) and hubby and I would put him in the car and take him rambling through the dirt roads, mostly bereft of any vehicular traffic unlike today. We would stop on a road, witheither side darkened with coffee bushes and majestic silver oaks, cut the engine and wait.
Within a few minutes there would be tiny twinkling lights moving in from below the coffee bushes to above and oh, they sometimes filled atree akin to a Christmas tree all decorated and we would hold our breathe and take it in..
I wonder somtimes how much we who live where we are take all this for granted. I wonder if the city could give you that much pleasure and if children yearn for a simple life. I am blessed that me children have like me a chance to savour both..
Today is father's day and there isn't a day I don't remember my father and many balmy nights when I look up at the stars I see him there and his spirit continues to guide me and I know no matter where I go and what I do hes there and the firefly is his way of telling me life goes on.
So whenever you can get to the country and the fireflies are there, be amazed and remember that even on a dark night the little beacon of hope will lift your heart as nothing else will and share the wonder with your chikdren.
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