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Hotaru (Fireflies)

The night we went to see the fireflies near the stream, I thought to myself, ‘There aren’t many places like this.’ That might not be even remotely true, but then I suppose the dark and the quiet are felt more than seen, or heard. To be sure, the dark and quiet are things I’ve not often felt in their profundity; I suppose living in the city means living with the opposite: light and noise.

The water and the trees and the cricket-sounds were almost familiar, except that we weren’t in the tropics. 16°C was bliss, and I didn’t have to worry about any flying insects other than the ones I wanted to see. And what a sight they were.

I heard someone consider (out loud) composing a poem. Another someone actually obliged, out loud. I remember hearing something about stars, but I also remember thinking they were more like heartbeats. The lights would go on for a bit, fade off, and turn on again, at intervals as regular as heartbeats are regular. (Which in my mind isn’t all that regular.) But now I think it’s more like breathing. Which, I realize, is necessarily momentarily irregular when you start to think about it. So, I won’t think about it.

(Excuse me while I turn off the light and noise.)

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Categories: Writing Tags: , , ,
  1. 24 June 2008 at 11:55 pm

    nice ‘D’.

  2. Cuthbert
    25 June 2008 at 12:45 am

    Nice ‘D’?

    Edit: Oh, right. I remember.

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