Lightning Bugs

Last night, we sat out in the hammocks, catching up, and watching the lightning bugs. I’m still not convinced, completely, that they are lightning bugs. Their lights stayed on for too long and none of them seemed too interested in each other.

But this has been a weird spring. Maybe everything is having trouble finding its groove.

It’s fun to watch people who are uncertain about hammocks get into one. Hell, I’ve been there. I can remember when I used to regularly get stuck in the hammock, unable to figure out how to get my feet beneath me to get out. But I love the look of delight on a person’s face when she lets go of standing and the hammock catches her and she realizes it’s going to hold her and swing her.

I was completely obnoxious, showing Brittney all my flowers, discussing my weeds, pointing out buds that may or may not come to anything. But Mrs. Wigglebottom was very well-behaved, surprisingly well-behaved, which was nice.

The internet has changed so much. It used to be, when I was little, we moved and pretty much everyone at those old places was lost to us. Yeah, maybe one or two people you could kind of keep track of, but in general, they were gone. They moved on with their lives and you moved on with yours and it was only under very exceptional circumstances that you met up again.

But now, it’s like, here’s this place where we can find each other, check in on each other, and touch base.

When Brittney showed up in my driveway, she was not someone I used to know before she moved away. She was just a friend I hadn’t seen in ages.

And I am grateful to the internet for that.

We had a really nice evening catching up. And then I came inside and learned Katie Granju’s son has died. I don’t know. You know how that is, every day. Some people’s lives are just happening nicely while other people’s lives are broken open.

I don’t have anything profound to say. My heart is just broken for Katie.