Fireflies and Prayers

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The first night of 2014 that I can comfortably sit on the veranda and watch the sunset, and the fireflies rise. There is something magical about fireflies and dusk. A feeling of peace envelopes me as another Shabbat begins. The neighborhood falls into silence as the first stars appear, the dogs stop barking, even the traffic seems to pause.

Too soon, something breaks that magical moment, and I fall out of the eternity into the eternal now. Tonight it was a teen coming home, his auto roaring around the curves and the sub-woofers at full rumble. So much for magical moments. But then, if magical moments persisted, they would become common.

One new addition to my summer evening ritual are holy incantations said softly. A special moment for reflection, even musing. So much of my spiritual life is done with others, and I am not complaining. But there is freedom in a moment of reverie on the veranda, accompanied by quiet streaks of light from the lightning bugs.

But back in the house now, Snook in the living room watching CSI, me in the studio, Annie-Annie, our black stray something or the other fast asleep on the daybed, tablet put on the charger and my world back in order. Time to kick off the sandals, take some medicines, and crawl into bed for the night.

As we say here in pick-up truck heaven, night y’all!


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