cruising the wild alfalfa

Lately I've noticed some things about myself that prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I am indeed growing older: 1) I prefer listening to NPR over 96.5 the Buzz, and 2) I am finding beauty and recreation in simple things, like walks, sitting on my deck and listening to cicadas, and learning more about the world I live in. Beats pop culture any day of the week. To that end, the fireflies are here! Its time! Let me explain:
Summers in Kansas can be insufferable: as humid as South Florida at times (without the scenery!), while at other times, as hot as a desert (without the nightlife!) The worst of all worlds, it seems. There are usually a couple of weeks on either side of spring or fall that are fantastically beautiful; I have to wonder if the pioneers who settled here passed through during one of those deceivingly idyllic moments.
However, there is a natural phenomenon that happens some summers, that is so magical and occasional that it warrants mention in the local newspaper and photographers wait with lenses poised. Wet springs apparently mean prolific fireflies mid-summer; which means busy firefly mating season, which means fantastic light shows once the sun goes down.
I remember the first time I ever experienced the crazed blinking of a field of fireflies; the first summer I stayed in Lawrence after classes ended, I was trying desperately to impress the guy that lived next door. I had lived in Lawrence a year longer than him, and loved introducing him to my "discoveries." One thing I shared with him was Wells Overlook, a 4-story wooden deck built on a hill that provides a stunning, panoramic view of Lawrence and surrounding farmland. For some reason, one night, late, we thought it would be fun to go to Wells Overlook and see the lights of the city. Little did we know that Wells Overlook park was gated and locked at night. Instead, we made the amazing discovery that the field across the street was alive with more fireflies than I knew could exist in a single place. The lights of the city as seen from Wells Overlook were nothing compared to a million fireflies in a single pasture trying to attract a mate! It was unlike anything I had ever seen--a million mini flashbulbs doesn't really do the description justice, but I can't think of a good "flashing" metaphor!
The wooded area across the street from my house was alight tonight. Ah, Kansas. I hope we still live here when Elise is old enough to experience it.